Bearing the loss

I have hit a wall. Since J left I have had to move on with life, attend to things that have been scheduled in my life, and act as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Sure, people commiserate with me, but I cannot possibly wear my heart on my sleeve and mourn as I feel deep inside.

So I bury all my emotions and just do, do, do. Life goes on. It does. But when night falls it is a different story. I fall asleep but I cannot rest for long. I wake up long before my body is rested. I pray, and I pray, for his soul, for God's consolation and healing for his immediate family. I go for weekday mass. I do everything I possibly can to lessen J's time in purgatory although I believe that he is already with God. The practical woman in me does the needful, and together with his closest friends, I have been helping to dispose of his belongings which he no longer has need of.

God has been very kind to me, sending me light in the person of P (thank you, P, for making me smile), but the sorrow runs deep. A part of me, when I acknowledge it, is weeping still, mourning. I know that this is all part of the process, part of my life's journey, and yet, right now, I feel oppressed by my heavy heart, and all I want to do is to retire into some dark hole alone and never come out.

Yesterday's Gospel from John 13 is the imperative to love one another in order to glorify God. As Father Romeo said in his homily, it is not an option, Christians must love one another: we need to rise to the challenge of loving imperfect people in an imperfect world with no mind for self gain or any form of reciprocity. He spoke about four things necessary to live out Jesus' new commandment to us:

We must listen. We cannot let our own preoccupations render us deaf to the cries for help around us.

We must be open, let the Spirit lead us to become more tolerant, more forgiving and more merciful in our families and faith communities.

We must be visible. Faith and good works are the mark of a good Christian. We are called to love one another in real ways, perform acts of love especially where the other cannot possibly reciprocate.

We must engage in life, fully enter into relationships and give of ourselves. Father Matthew took it a step further last Tuesday when he pronounced that Christians are called to give what is most precious to them for the benefit of others.

Somehow J's passing has become an invitation to me to LOVE as Father Romeo encourages us to for J lived his life that way: he was a great listener, open to others without judging them, he performed little acts of service for people wherever he went, and he engaged people, making them feel welcome and special.

To paraphrase Father Romeo, loving others means risking pain, hurt, betrayal and persecution, but it also means risking wonder, life, joy and peace. While the pain of loss may seem onerous to me right now, I am also grateful for this burden for it means I have loved well and lived fully. And that makes it all worthwhile.

Prepping for success

The Woman to Woman Ministry had our first outreach yesterday at Our Lady Queen of Peace and it was successful in touching the hearts of those who came. From a technical standpoint, there were many potential areas for failure to the point it was like a biblical literary device, the use of hyperbole to showcase the awesomeness of God.

We were pretty much an unseasoned team who ran a retreat programme that was overly ambitious for an audience of untold variation. There were young and old, cradle Catholics to recent converts; people from such different walks of life and on diverse points of their spiritual journey that it shouldn't have worked, but it did. There was something for everyone. Every activity was tailor-made for our audience who came with expectant or hungry hearts, and went home fed. As D told me two weeks ago, when I was balking at cantoring for the very first time (I know the limitations of my voice and I was reluctant to expose myself to criticism for I always wince at less than perfect voices): God does not choose the qualified but he qualifies the chosen.

From Moses, to Jacob, to David, from Sarah, to Rahab, to Mother Mary, each one of these people was chosen to play a role in God's salvation history. Let's not forget the apostles: from among them were unschooled and simple fishermen, sinners, murderers, cowards, and so on, but these past weeks of Easter readings speak of miracles and conversions of epic proportions.

There is only one requirement for each of us to continue the story of God's salvific love and mercy, and it begins with a fiat, a simple yes. A yes that speaks of commitment, obedience and  a complete reliance on the Holy Spirit. It was the Spirit who opened the hearts and minds of the participants so that they were willing to receive. It was the Spirit who put the right words into our mouths and spoke nourishing truths. It was the Spirit that bonded strangers and made them feel immediately at ease with each other. And it is the Spirit that brings us to Jesus and His Father.

What have I learned this weekend past? The success of every outreach doesn't require good marketing, a perfect programme or a team of experienced service team members. Certainly all the logistics do need to be taken care of, but more important is the disposition of heart of every service team member, and the effort spent in prayer and fasting.

We began praying for the outreach weeks before as we came up with the programme, and in recent weeks, we fasted and prayed. I also went for weekday mass and spent time in the adoration room whenever possible. The potency of prayer and fasting is unparalleled and it was proven yesterday. I am deeply humbled and I continue to include all the participants in prayer, that they will be inspired to go forth and spread the Good News with fresh passion.

Picking up the pieces

When a friend, E, sent her condolences to me over the sudden demise of my cousin, I said to her it's times like these that I wish I didn't love so deeply or were so involved in people's lives. I was in massive pain and could not stop crying for three days. I felt like I was going crazy for he was absolutely fine the last time I saw him. Plus, those younger than you have no right to go earlier.

She replied that's what makes life rich, meaningful and beautiful. I concur, and yet, it is also unbearably heartbreaking. I am ever grateful that many people prayed, and continue to pray, for not just the repose of J's soul, but for me and his immediate family. I managed to wake up very early on the day of the funeral, calm, which was what I needed to be to give J the proper send off, and it was a special one. The funeral mass was beautiful and those who came were touched by it.

Now that everything is over, here comes the really hard part, coping with the loss. On top of missing the person, one has to process feelings of guilt mixed with regret, of missed opportunities to show love, to have been more involved in that person's life.

We lament our busyness and self-absorption, our less than charitable thoughts, our less than admirable behaviour; if only I had known. If only... The thing is, we will never do enough even if we did do the best we could, and we will never fully appreciate someone, until they are gone. Sadly.

Letting go is very difficult but the words I proclaimed at the funeral mass from the book of Wisdom 4:4-14 console me and assure me that J is rewarded with eternal life now. He is with God, free to be the amazing and gorgeous person God created him to be, no more pain, sorrow, shame, tears, and fears. How much better can it get?

Even as I deal with the grief of losing J, I have seen many blessings that have come out of his leaving. The outpouring of love has been tremendous, from friends, family, fellow parishioners from Saint Teresa, and my ICPE communities. How can one not believe there is a God when His mercy is all encompassing and His love so abundant in times of tragedy?

J's leaving has taught me to treasure those I love a little more by being kinder, less impatient and more tolerant; to speak words of affirmation more frequently and tell those I love that I love them. It has also taught me to be less afraid of life, to go forth boldly and live fully, time is ticking, so what am I waiting for? But perhaps the biggest lesson would be to risk rejection by being open and vulnerable, and allow others to love me for who I am. If I do not let others through the front door of my heart, then I am only cheating myself of opportunities to encounter Jesus personally and letting Him love me.

Love is messy, painful, energy zapping, and it requires hard work and sacrifice, but love is also sublime, divine, and the call of every human heart. J, I have loved you from the day you were born, and I will love you to the day I die, and beyond. I look forward to our eventual reunion in God's embrace. In the meantime, I will honour your memory by attempting to be as gentle and hospitable as you were. This is how I will remember you best.    

Sudden departure

My cousin J passed away suddenly, unexpectedly yesterday. I am devastated and I cannot wrap my brains around this tragedy for we just met at mass on Sunday, and we hugged, laughed and chatted briefly.

Who is going to sit next to me at mass and give me the sign of peace by kissing me on both cheeks and hugging me the special way he did?

Who will praise my cooking, genuinely loving it, and eating it with such gusto as he did?

I am bereft. Utterly. He was my friend, my little brother, one of the special few I confided in and relied on for good advice. It feels as if a vital light has gone out in my world leaving me with a permanent ache in my heart from the loss.

Why, God? How can he be gone, just like that? The cute little boy with big eyes, who used to follow me around. The sensitive soul who understood my tears and fears, and made me laugh with his wicked wit.

While I know that life is transient, must parting be so vicious and awful? I will never understand why he had to leave so soon, although I know that heaven is definitely graced by his presence for his gentleness and wisdom touched many people here on earth and made this world a brighter and more beautiful place. He will be sorely missed. Requiescat in pace, my dear J, and chope me a place in heaven as you used to do in church. 

Easter signs and wonders

Talking to a couple of friends I was reminded that one can have everything, all the outward and material trappings, and yet still feel hollow and miserable. One can be liked and loved for who one is and yet not experience happiness because one feels fake, having no sense of identity or self-worth, and is therefore utterly lost.

I am at a loss at how I can help my friends, for they do not seem to want to do anything constructive. Perhaps they lack the inner resources to begin clawing their way out of darkness. I empathize for I was once like them. I can only be there for them, and let God do the rest, as He did with me.

Yesterday Father Valerian spoke about the importance of community, of being a part of a community of believers, for it is only with the help of others, others who believe in the power of love and who hope in the impossible beauty of the resurrection that we can move beyond doubt, fear and the limitations we place upon ourselves.

He asked if we had personalized the resurrection story, and encountered God's love up close, for if we had not, then we would remain as Thomas was, doubting and unsure of how God can move mountains in our lives. Our faith would not be able to grow for we would constantly refuse to see how much He loves us and we would not allow Him or His mercy to transform our lives.

Even as I journey with my friends, I realize that Jesus is asking the same of me, to take my faith to the next level, to get uncomfortably up close and personal, and expose my deepest desires to the resurrection story. I have to die to my self consciousness, my shame and my self-preserving fear; jump off the deep end, diving into the unknown with a humble, trusting and open heart.

Suddenly, Lent became a much less challenging proposition in comparison, and I find myself struggling to be a worthy Easter person. I am looking at Easter with different eyes. I don't like it as much as I used to... Why, Lord, can it not just be about rejoicing and feasting? Why must I participate fully in Easter by dying and resurrecting with you?

The Easter readings are filled with instances of physical manifestations of the resurrected Christ whom His followers do not recognize initially. There are stories of robust faith only after a conversion of mind and heart, à la Thomas. Scripture reveals a time of confusion, chaos, and challenge, but also speaks loudly of God's divine mercy: a time of many signs and wonders, of how putting one's self in the path of Peter's shadow could effect healing.

A large number of people from the towns in the vicinity of Jerusalem also gathered, bringing the sick and those disturbed by unclean spirits, and they were all cured.   
                                                                                                         Acts 5:16

The invitation of Easter is to live radically, on fire; to cast off the shackles of a constricting and deadly mindset, and adopt a whole new way of life, one that embodies a powerful, unitive love found in the resurrected person of Jesus.

Such radicality requires the support of friends and community. On our own, we can accomplish little. As I continue to lend support to my wounded friends, I rely on mine to help bring me to the side of the road where I can wait with expectant faith for the signs and wonders of Easter. Link hands and join in.