Freaky Friday

And I used to tell other people that they needed to start saying "No."

Friday was such a mess that I can't even believe I got through it alive. Not a mess mess because I got to do everything I needed to do anyway, but I had one whacked-out schedule that just kept me in a tailspin from the minute I got out of bed until I fell back into it 20 hours later.

Late to school again despite rushing through my morning beauty rituals (although I had to change outfits a couple of times...argh). Plow through class, manage to put together a late-breaking quiz I'd forgotten I was supposed to give, then rush out to next job...as Mom's trusty "chauffeur." But before that, a little lunch at the Center to see if there is anything I need to get done - break away just as Kuya about to volunteer my services to our new househunting French volunteer. Off to take Mom to the mall - have phone fixed (again!) while at it - and spend a couple of hours trailing her around and trying to give good advice on interior decoration. Hurry back home to revise and e-mail copy of new project an ad/graphic agency is bidding for, finish up just in time to leave for an extended family dinner in Banaue. Chew, chew, swallow, line up at buffet, repeat two times...rush back home again to work on another copy study for same agency (kah, kah, kah...). Finish at almost 2 in the morning. Crawl into bed to die. Oops...can't die yet; it's Saturday again and Ate Ganda needs to resurrect from the sleep of the dead and be up and at it really early.

Needless to say, late Saturday afternoon the only thing I wanted to do was to go back to bed and sleep it all off. Just as I turned onto the corner of Tandang Sora, I had a blessed realization: the kind of exhaustion I experienced the whole day of Friday (there was nothing else I wanted to do but take a nap at 11 am, 2 pm, 5 pm, and 11:30 pm but duty kept calling!) was from that kind of hellish pressure that always leaves me thinking, "What the heck am I doing this for?!" It's the familiar emotional and physical assault that wreaks havoc on your general well-being and preys on your spiritual health (I did not even have time for prayer time in the morning...much less say more than a sleepy "Thank You" before turning in). It's exactly the kind of day that precedes a resignation letter on the boss' desk the next day (man, I should know).

And what the heck was I doing this for? For myself, mainly. For money, for family, for me. No wonder I wanted to quit. I was doing all this for the wrong reasons, and the combination of everything I did on Friday was something I wouldn't want to keep doing the next day, and the next, and the next...

But my Saturdays are different. And my Thursdays. My Wednesday afternoons and evenings, my Tuesdays, my "normal" Fridays... Hmm. I'm even more exhausted on those days - Thursday means waking up early after preparing a talk and/or worship to travel to Montalban and conduct a prayer meeting and then cook lunch and spend time with the household kids and then perhaps prepare for Thursday prayer group...which ends up way into the night. Tuesday is Quiapo day and He Cares council meeting day and then, if it's a good Tuesday, street ministry night... Wednesday is CLS night, and Saturday, wow...Saturday is the most intoxicating toxic day of all. What the heck am I doing all this for?

Let me rephrase the question. "Who in heaven am I doing all this for?"

The same Person who allows me the privilege of doing many of the same exhausting things and running on the same tiring schedule day after day, the strength to do it all in His name, and the grace of looking forward to the next working day in His vineyard.

And therein lies the difference. Thank you, Father. I'm going to try to do every little thing for You, every day. Save me from the other "reasons" that keep me from doing Your work and Your will; save me from me!

Heart's Desires

I want to cut hair. And walk the Camino de Santiago from St. Jean-Pied-de-Port in France to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Take editing classes, get a Theology degree, write a couple of travel narratives a la Pico Iyer/Peter Mayle. Live a simple life in a simple place far away from the city with a horse, a 4x4, and someone to watch over me...

My heart's desires. Kuya Joe Dean asked me about them the other day - soul-stumping questions like that are part of the "hazards" of riding shotgun in the He Cares van -and I've been thinking about them since. The thing is, I'm not even sure what they are anymore.

I've had weirder "heart's desires" that I thought I really, really wanted once upon a time. After my first time in Europe, I nurtured in my heart the secret wish to live in Paris, even for just a short time...to make true my daydream of carrying on a conversation, entirely in French, with my friendly neighborhood grocer. And so it came to pass, believe it or not, through God's grace. But the daydream had its nightmarish parts, and it's taken me two whole years to even imagine going back to France, let alone want to return. And just this week, that burning desire to return was inflamed into an uncontrollable blaze by a very simple remark from my Dad: "O, your sister wants to go to Europe next year...you should get ready to go with her." Man!

Or have my own leather (oh, all right - pleather) chair in my window office with a view and my name given top billing in a law partnership...that too came to pass, as early as my 30th birthday. Gorgeous full-length 20th floor-glass-view of Metro Manila and Laguna de Bay and all. That view is still there, and my expensive chair is still there, together with my ego wall of diplomas, distinctions, and Bar certificates...but I haven't stepped into that office for almost two years now (my partners run it, they "consult" with me via mobile phone). Another heart's desire come true that wasn't so desirable after all.

So I'm a little more wary about what desires I entertain in my heart nowadays. Not too long ago, I used to ask God to burn away those desires that do not coincide with His, and to intensify those which are in His masterplan. I think I should start saying that prayer again, before my own ambitions get the better of me without my consulting with Him first. Despite all this time trying to follow His direction, I still get distracted once in a while. Only last Friday night I found myself tripping up on something that I thought I'd already relegated to my "past life"...horrors!

I gotta get my act together; I know at this particular point in time I'm not at my strongest or at my "right-est" before Him. Only He can make me completely "right" again...and I know that if I once more seek Him and Him alone, the desires of my heart are more likely to conform to His.

Goodness me. Need your prayers, especially that my first - if not only - heart's desire be to do His will. Thanks.

The Thank You That Refuses To Be Silenced

from Joy In The Journey by Max Lucado

"The people," Matthew wrote,"were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, thelame walking and the blind seeing." Four thousand amazed people,each telling a story grander than the other. In the midst of them all is Jesus. Not complaining. Not postponing. Not demanding. Just enjoying every minute.
Then Matthew, still the great economizer of words, gave us another phrase on which I wish he would have elaborated: "They praised the God of Israel."

I wonder how they did that? * * * In all probability, they just did it. Each one— in his or her own way,with his or her own heart— just praised Jesus. Perhaps some people came and fell at Jesus’ feet. Perhaps some shouted his name. Maybe a few just went upon the hillside, looked into the sky, and smiled.

I can picture a mom and dad standing speechless before the Healer as they hold their newly healed baby.
I can envision a leper staring in awe at the One who took away his terror.
I can imagine throngs of people pushing and shoving. Wanting to get close. Not to request anything or demand anything, but just to say "thank you."
Perhaps some tried to pay Jesus, but what payment would have been sufficient?
Perhaps some tried to return his gift with another, but what could a person give that would express the gratitude?
All the people could do was exactly what Matthew said they did."They praised the God of Israel."
However they did it, they did it. And Jesus was touched, so touched that he insisted they stay for a meal before they left.

Without using the word worship, this passage defines it. Worship is when you’re aware that what you’ve been given is far greater than what you can give. Worship is the awareness that were it not for his touch, you’d still be hobbling and hurting, bitter and broken. Worship is the half-glazed expression on the parched face of a desert pilgrim as he discovers that the oasis is not a mirage.

Worship is the "thank you" that refuses to be silenced.

Blessed and Stressed (?!)

I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once. - Jennifer Unlimited

Anyone who thinks that missionaries lead a blessed, unstressed life should spend a day like yesterday in my shoes. Oh, I'm blessed indeed, no question about that, wouldn't be able to survive a single day on this mission without God's abundant grace, but, once in a while, that demon of stress I thought I'd left in the corporate world likes to creep up in an attempt to ruin things.

My mission partner is off this week to do out-of-town apostolate work and I'm left to fill his Chuck Taylors...pretty big shoes to fill, literally and otherwise. Now there are many, many things I can do naturally, sometimes without the slightest bit of effort (e.g., write, make a good meal out of odds and ends in the kitchen, navigate the city's sidestreets, heck, even teach the law) and many things that I once couldn't do but which God has enabled me to do (e.g. bandage kids' bloody foreheads, play the tambourine, sing, and finally play B minor on the guitar!). But there are also many things that I cannot do (yet, or ever), things which come so easy for other people, and for which they seem to have been made to do: tune the guitar in ten seconds flat, put together a visual presentation, paint, change a flat tire, do magic tricks. So you can imagine what kind of stress I was under last night when I was making dinner while trying to tune a guitar, texting a friend who I was supposed to meet up with to do a favor for, running through my lecture on the common law, and mentally putting together a powerpoint presentation that needed to be e-mailed in by 9 a.m. the next day... And I'm not exaggerating.

I do not have AG's or Kuya Mike's or Kuya Joe Dean's or Ate Juwip's talents, and they do not have mine. God probably brought all of us together on this mission because of our unique contributions that make up a harmonious whole...and stress happens when we try to pick up the slack in one or the other's absence. In this particular case, picking up the slack had a domino effect: on top of a stressed-out psyche, I ended up not finishing anything a single thing on my list to my satisfaction (what the heck did I expect by spreading myself too thin?). Although I did make it to Quiapo for my weekly visit, I didn't get to buy some stuff I needed because I had to buy new tires before Servitek closed and by then I was late for the He Cares' staff meeting. I didn't tune the guitar properly (only got halfway through it, good thing a brother with tuning skills came to the rescue just in time), had to watch that the picadillo didn't burn while in the middle of worship, only to rush off right after worship, without finishing the empowerment session, so I could meet another sister I'd promised to help do a recording with. But I had to run off again at 2 a.m., even before the recording was done, because I had to do prepare a powerpoint presentation I was guilt-tripped into taking on. At this particular point, I knew that my next day's classes would be a no-show. Aaaagh!! And it didn't end there - not only did I miss the first day of school today, but I couldn't make it to the Center in time for lunch - and they didn't manage to cook anything with the stuff at hand. Good thing there was some picadillo left over from last night. Sigh.

As I crawled into bed at 4 a.m., dissatisfied with everything I'd accomplished in such a half-baked manner during the course of the day, I was grumpy, tired, resentful, and suffering from a migraine. And apologetic to the One I'd promised I'd always give my very best to.

This morning at prayer time, I laid my messed-up, stressed-out self at His feet, and just allowed Him to love me until I was better. I recognize now that this kind of assault - the frustrating stress brought about by busy-ness and taking on too much (even for the Lord!) than you can handle - is an enemy tactic that works so well in wearying my defenses and emotions. It's one of those things that conveniently trip you up just when a momentous event to glorify God is approaching - in this case the Outpouring of the Holy Spirit for He Cares' LSS participants next Wednesday. So I took all my weaknesses and my weary self to the Source of my Strength, in whom I know I can do anything. And, in His embrace, which I'd been a little too busy to linger in during the last several days, He spoke into my heart. "You don't have to work too hard. I love you no matter what."

That helped me to remember the real reason why I work for Him - not because He requires me to do it, but because it is the only way for me to express my love and gratitude for what I know He is and what He has done. It is not genuine gratitude when I overburden my schedule and keep running in and out of rooms, rushing here and there in a relentless race that He could not have asked me to run, because I have a lot less time to sit with Him. I'm reminded of the lyrics of the song that "led" to my conversion, Out Of Roads:

"I just ran out of roads again. Don’t know
where to turn. I started counting stars again,
then I lost my way.
I just ran out of time again.
Will I ever learn to stop my chase of hours
again, only learn I’ve lost the day?"

Except that I now know which Road I should be on, and in Whose direction I should be heading. Thank God He always sets me straight. May we never work too hard for the Lord that we neglect our relationship with the Master Himself. I need to get back in Mary-mode before the cranky, resentful side of Martha gets the better of me. I think I will just sit at His feet for a while...and just gaze upon the One who loved me even before I started to serve Him.

Day of Healing, Day of Rest

AG and I spent Sunday at the Day of Healing With Jesus at Mary at the ULTRA - and a long day it was indeed: although we were seated, for the most part, just listening to the speakers and praying for the various levels of healing, it turned out to be an exhausting eight-hour experience. Communal outpourings of prayer can truly be taxing, but thank God that His fountain is ever-flowing and overflowing and His Spirit always brings refreshment. And receiving Him through the Most Holy Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist - Holy Mass capped the day-long activities - never fails to bring new strength to continue walking on towards Him and in His footsteps, healing others as we have been healed by the Healer Himself.

Of all the many goings-on and reflections and revelations of the day, three things struck me the most. First was Fr. Arnie Boehme's statement that true healing has indeed occurred when one who has been healed picks up his mat and follows Jesus: true healing results in discipleship. The Gospel testifies many, many times to this, and so does real life in countless cases I know of - including my own: the Lord brings healing that enables those who were once in the throes of suffering and infirmity to be whole again, and to follow Him. What a profound realization - what a glorious truth!

I envy the Tondo parishioners who are so blessed to have Fr. Erick Santos as their parish priest - what a riot, what a gift! He's probably the only priest who can pull off reflecting seriously on the painful topic of Healing Relationships while making people roll in the aisles with laughter at his Allan K-ish (oops, though I mean it in a good way, I hope he never gets to read this!) sense of humor. But most of what he talked about - on love and risk and forgiveness - was a reassuring affirmation of God's truths that He's been helping me figure out while on this journey back to Him. Live, love, forgive, and love even more when it gets hard. And remember Who loved you first, and most (who loves ya, baby?).

And finally, the video account of Julia Kim's (the Korean visionary of Our Lady of Naju) sufferings as a victim soul was almost too painful to watch. To actually see how the Lord and Our Lady hurt because of the world's transgressions - and how much they suffer, and continue to suffer, because of our refusal to turn from our sinfulness and selfishness - how could anyone not be moved by that? The most terrible vision was probably Julia's travailing of the experiences of an unborn child being aborted, the unspeakable suffering of the most innocent and defenseless of God's creations at the violent hands of people - of their own mothers - who actually call themselves human beings. Even animals do not kill their unborn young. Whew.

Anyway, it was a loooong, tiring, but blessing-filled week altogether, and today, Monday, is my day of rest. Time off to spend some quality time with God, and to catch up on some of the things He's allowed me to enjoy: a foreign film DVD festival, reading my new books (yahoo!), and in honor of the hundreds of Catholic Korean pilgrims of yesterday's activities, I will probably cook up some kalbichim. An nyong ha sae yo!

First Love

Saturday's subject for missionary formation was the "Joy of Serving the Lord," and Father Steve, instead of speaking at length on the topic, opened the discussion for sharing and questions. What gives us the most joy in our service - why do we keep doing what we do for God over and again? Kuya Joe Dean narrowed the field a little bit by helping us pinpoint what our "first love" is and how we keep returning to it.

I believe that we live according to the hierarchy of "dreams"...most of us first live out our parents' dreams: getting a good education, practicing a profession, making a comfortable living. In my case, I lived out my parents' dreams for a good 10 years, and I still maintain my name on a law firm "shingle" in honor of those dreams, just so they can boast of a daughter who happens to be a Bar-placing attorney with name-partnership status. Tonight at dinner my Dad whipped out the career question out of the blue: what about your lawyering? Thankfully, after a "Dad-I'm-a-gurrrrrl-I-don't-want-to-litigate-anymore-I'll-leave-it-to-the-boys" response, he eased up and changed the subject.

After seven years of living out their dreams, I began to live out my own. To travel the world, the region, and the country many, many times over. To write and write and have myself read by people who appreciated the stuff I was writing down. To be somebody whose opinions and public presence mattered. But, as things turned out, fame and fortune and frequent flyer miles did not make me very happy for long. In fact, I found myself more miserable than I'd ever been, despite my heart's desire of living in Paris speaking pidgin French everyday with the accompanying daydream of a romance and walking a dog down the Seine while pouring my soul out through my writing.

In the old community, we used to sing a very dangerous song based on Sir Francis Drake's prayer, Disturb Us Lord: "Disturb us, O Lord, when we're too pleased with ourselves; when our dreams have all come true, because our dreams are small and few..." I think I sang that song once too often that God actually heard me, and truly disturbed me - gladly disturbed me, I'd like to think. Because He showed me that there is no joy comparable to the joy of pursuing His dreams for me. A little more than ten years ago, He knew that He wanted me to become His missionary (I thought at the time that He was only kidding). And now I am, and I have never experienced more joy in the last year than I have in my entire life...the incomparable joy of letting Him take over and His will be done. Perhaps the most profound words in literature are from the pen of Dante Alighieri: "In His will, our peace."

My first love. Discovering His will and following it - in caring for the poor, in loving the unloved, in bringing His light to the darkest corners of the earth. Today's entry by Oswald Chambers, together with Bo's talk on discipleship at this morning's Feast, confirms this call:

A missionary is someone in whom the Holy Spirit has brought about this realization: "You are not your own" ( 1 Corinthians 6:19 ). To say, "I am not my own," is to have reached a high point in my spiritual stature. The true nature of that life in actual everyday confusion is evidenced by the deliberate giving up of myself to another Person through a sovereign decision, and that Person is Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit interprets and explains the nature of Jesus to me to make me one with my Lord, not that I might simply become a trophy for His showcase. Our Lord never sent any of His disciples out on the basis of what He had done for them. It was not until after the resurrection, when the disciples had perceived through the power of the Holy Spirit who Jesus really was, that He said, "Go" (Matthew 28:19; also see Luke 24:49 and Acts 1:8 ).

"If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple" ( Luke 14:26 ). He was not saying that this person cannot be good and upright, but that he cannot be someone over whom Jesus can write the word Mine. Any one of the relationships our Lord mentions in this verse can compete with our relationship with Him. I may prefer to belong to my mother, or to my wife, or to myself, but if that is the case, then, Jesus said, "[You] cannot be My disciple." This does not mean that I will not be saved, but it does mean that I cannot be entirely His. Our Lord makes His disciple His very own possession, becoming responsible for him. "... you shall be witnesses to Me..." (Acts 1:8 ). The desire that comes into a disciple is not one of doing anything for Jesus, but of being a perfect delight to Him. The missionary’s secret is truly being able to say, "I am His, and He is accomplishing His work and His purposes through me.

Be entirely His!

Online Again

Henyo, isa kang henyo, Jerry Jimenez. I'm back online - and in a matter of seconds after an SOS phone call to one of my most reliable, dependable, o sige na nga, lovable friends. All I had to do was report my ineptness and he came up with the diagnosis in three seconds flat - the same amount of time for me to fix the problem and reboot - and tadah! I'm cruising the information superhighway once again. Apparently my laptop's removable disk drive got jiggled loose during transport (no wonder my Windows' refusal to boot up only seems to happen to me whenever I subject my laptop to arduous travel circumstances) and it only took one sentence from me - "sinubukan kong buksan yung disk drive, ayaw" for good old Jerry to figure the problem out. Well, the fact that he's on his way to a Master's in Computer Sumthin-sumthin at the Ateneo should count for something, but he credits his knowhow to years of experience wrecking PC's (but if that's the case I should probably be the Stephen Hawking of computer technology).

Anyway, this isn't the first time that Jerry's come through for me - he's fixed my car (I already wrote about this a few years ago: my car's new battery wouldn't work whilst I was parked along Katipunan on a Sunday, and I could think of no one else to come to the rescue but Jerry with his jumper cables. And he did. Talk about dependable!) and my guitar (once upon a time, I owned an acoustic guitar that accidentally got cracked in my car trunk, so he took it home and lovingly bonded it back together, although today I have no idea where the heck I put the thing). He's also indirectly responsible for most of my car's body repairs - by introducing me to the magical Mang Max, he's managed to spare me from the grief of expensive restoration jobs. Mang Max, isa kang henyo!

Come to think of it, I think I appreciate my friends' practical talents more than their extraordinary ones - I'm not the type to be impressed by prowess in sports (Jerry's one heck of a badminton/basketball player, and I know some people who kick-a$$ in basketball, swimming, football, and what have you, but those things don't really matter much to me) or the arts (I like my artista and artist friends for reasons far beyond their lead roles in Repertory Philippines or international motion pictures or whatever exhibits their work has been featured in) or the academe.

What really impresses me is how someone can juggle motherhood and professional life without losing one's sense of self. Or how one can change a tire/s in the middle of a thunderstorm and still manage to smile. Or whip up a quality meal for the multitudes. Or take care of a household of reformed boys, full-time, 24 hours a day, while teaching them new skills and honing talents. Or minister to the poorest of poor, feeding these sheep with spiritual and physical meals. The practical ability to meet the most mundane - yet most essential - needs matters most to me, especially in the moments of greatest necessity. And I'm thankful that I have friends who fit the bill. If you're reading this, you're probably one of them. :-) Henyo kayo, henyo!

Offline

My laptop's been through a lot over the last three years - geez, has it been that long? I've hauled it all around the world more than a few times and up and down the country...it's been beaten up, slept on and scratched by cats, reformatted by a technical retard (yours truly) and now it's suffering once again from some software malfunction or whatever. I should take it to the shop tomorrow, or maybe attempt to rescucitate it with the guidance of my more computer-savvy friends (aka my 24-hour tech support). Tiboy hasn't replied to my text so I think I will bug Jerry next...

My sister's laptop (less than a year old and in immaculate condition) on the other hand, works like a dream, aaahh...no loose Shift key or cat hairs...but none of my digital photos or works in progress either! God bless my computer, hope I can get it up and running again tonight!