God and a bag of peanuts

I had a good day today. One of the special treats was a bag of peanuts. Then I thought of God, how He provides me with little treats everyday. Problem is, they are so ordinary that I take them for granted. Yesterday, it was the kindness of a friend; today, it was a bag of peanuts. Who knows what special treat is in store for me tomorrow?
But isn't it blasphemous to sort of equate God to a bag of peanuts? After all, it seems so trivial. Why do I have to drag God into this thing. Wouldn't He be so busy governing the world as to be preoccupied with giving me a bag of peanuts?
Of course the bag of peanuts did not drop from above, but I believe that the good things of everyday life, and believe me, they are more than the clumsy ones, all come from God. He makes use of persons, like you and me, or natural events or of many other ways (after all, He is very creative) to give us His gifts straight from His heart.
So dear Father, thank you for the bag of peanuts. It made my day. Looking forward to tomorrow's treat.

Touch and believe

Now a week later his disciples were again inside and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, "Peace be with you." Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe." Thomas answered and said to him, "My Lord and my God!" (John 20:26-28)

There must be something miraculous about the human touch. I come from a culture where touching is not very much encouraged; but it isn't looked at with malice and suspicion as it is in some places. Anyway, this is not the point of this musing.
I have experienced, in many occasions, the power of the human touch. A big, tight hug, a tap on the shoulder, holding of hands, gave me comfort during many of my strongest experiences. They are signs that I matter, that I am not alone, that someone cares.
One of my favorite songs has a line that says "we climb our mountains all alone". Yes, we cannot run away from this feeling of aloneness. We have to go through the way of solitude if we want to grow and not remain infants. But the warmth of a human touch, at the right time, changes our whole perspective and attitude as we go through the journey of solitude in order to find our roots and wings.
I am not alone. I share the lot of other men and women who are in a journey of finding meaning in our lives.

A good priest, a real man of God

Yesterday I had the chance to talk to a priest-friend. I never thought that my friendship with him would last this long. I think it's been fifteen years.
I can truthfully say that I have always been edified by this man - very human, capable of showing his affection, but at the same time maintaining a distance. He is really a man of peace, always trying to reach out, to build bridges instead of erecting walls. At the same time, he is a man of solid convictions, inspired by the Gospel.
At the beginning of our friendship, I felt flattered to be on a first-name basis with a well-known and important person. There was a danger on my part to be dependent on the friendship because of the satisfaction it brought me. But Father knew when to be silent and to keep distance, without making me feel set aside or rejected.
I guess, when one is truly a person of God, he manages to be limpid and transparent in every aspect of his life, radiating the goodness of Jesus.
I have been privileged to have this kind of friendship. This, too, is grace.

Who do you say that I am

When Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" They replied, "Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets." He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?" Simon Peter said in reply, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God."

(Matthew 16:13-16)

Jesus is addressing to me personally this question. He is not asking for an answer of the formula-type. He looks at me in the eye and asks me, "Bing, who do you say that I am? Who am I for you? Twenty-four years ago, you were at the height of your fervor and you've left a happy family, a flourishing career, the love of special persons, and the promise of a bright future. Would you still do the same now, choose me above all else?"
The past twenty-four years are like a mosaic for me of different colors and hues.
There were experiences of highs when I strongly felt the presence of Jesus, giving meaning to my life, filling up the emptiness. There were experiences of a heightened desire to give all, to make as many people as possible to fall in love with Jesus.
But much more were the ordinary and every experiences of routine, of doing the same things; as if there is nothing to look forward to. It's always a temptation to look over the fence and see the greener pasture on the other side. Did I make a mistake in leaving everything for Jesus?
Jesus' call is a gift. It's not for any merit on my part. Jesus' love is a gift. I did not do anything to deserve it. But love is not euphoria. It is not all sentiment. Love is tested, proved and purified when one becomes certain despite the absence of feelings.
Will I still choose Jesus? I will, not because I am strong, but because my attraction to Him is already a sign of His presence within me.

Restlessness

At certain points in our life we feel a certain restlessness. It cannot be explained by our rational minds. We may choose to ignore it but it persists. There is really no answer to this restlessness. It's a reminder that we are not made for this life alone. As one of my favorite authors said, in this life "all symphonies remain unfinished".

An eye for an eye

When in the name of justice and hurt, I continue to punish the one who was unjust to me, I simply become unjust myself. Inflicting pain on the one who hurt me will never eliminate my own. It will simply continue the spiral of pain.

(sr. Joan Chittister OSB)

Dear life

Dear life,
thank you for our meeting forty-four years ago. You are the first gift that I have received, indeed, a gift, because I haven't done anything to merit you. You have always been with me through my ups and downs. Doors have opened and closed; dreams have been fulfilled or shattered; relationships have developed and grown deeper or got fractured or died. But you are constantly with me. Sometimes when things get so terrible, I think of you as a curse, a burden I cannot get rid of. But deep in my heart, I know that you are a blessing.
As I evolve, you also evolve, and at forty-four I do not and should not look at you as I did when I was sixteen.
I catch myself frequently saying these days that there is no justice in this life. But I can do you justice if I live the present moment to the full.