Perfect timing

A few minutes before noon, I remembered that our journals needed to be picked up from the book binder the following day. I had just copied out the number I needed on the back of the receipt when my boss comes in and asks about it.

"I was just about to call if the journals are ready for pick up," was my ready reply.

Talk about timing! 

Thank you, Lord, for reminding us of the things we are supposed to do at exactly the right moment. Help us to live in the present moment, carry our cross for the day, and follow you--especially when it hurts the most. May your will be done. Amen.  

Laba laba

Monday is laundry day but today, I'm a little lazier than usual. So I started the task late in the morning and finished the coloreds by lunch. The whites could wait 'til after lunch... But then a brownout struck at 12 noon. Oops. So much for that plan. If only I'd gotten over my laziness and finished everything before lunch as usual...

As I did the pre-machine wash ritual (kusot kusot ng kaunti 'pag may time--is that translatable in English?), I regretted my laziness again as I wondered if I'd have to do this batch manually all the way to the end. I squeezed out the soapy water from the last piece of clothing and put it atop the bucket.  

"What do you think? Shall I do it by hand?" I asked my mother who was standing nearby.

"No, let's wait for the lights," she replied. "Just cover it up with a basin."

I took the red basin and placed it atop the bucket. And just like that, I hear the hum of the refrigerator. Yehey! Electricity is back on. Washing machine, here we come!

Lord, thank you for the gift of technology that makes our lives easier. Thank you for the gift of plumbing, clean water, the clothes on our back, laundry detergent and fabric softener. And thank you for electricity coming back on at just the right time. Super thanks! 

Ipis 2

I never thought I'd be writing about cockroaches again immediately following the first story. But when I opened the light to my room, I saw one poised near the ceiling. It was in a definite flying mood and the thought that went through my mind was: am I going to ask God to guide the cockroach out again? Or would that be unfair since it might remain in the living area and scare my housemates as well? 

I decided to take the coward's way out and closed the door behind me. But I guess I had not closed it quickly enough because a few moments later, I heard a fluttering sound—there was the creepy crawler clinging to the curtain (hmmm... pwedeng tongue twister). So again, the prayer in a form of a question... Lord, pwede ba ulit...? 

In answer, the cockroach flew a circle around the room—as well as around my very worried head—and landed on the stairs. Gingerly, I opened the wooden door that led to the garden. Accommodatingly enough, the roach soon flew towards the door and landed on top of it. Then it hopped to the upper part of the outer screen door. I held the wooden door ajar enough for my other hand to keep the screen door slightly open. I turned on the lights outside. One part of me hoped the light would attract the cockroach, but it was more so I could keep an eye on the little bugger. With bated breath I watched it nearing the upper rim of the screen door and... finally sit atop enough so I could effectively nudge it out.

What a sigh of relief!  

Then I sat back in amazement that God would answer my roach-related request again, albeit in a different way. Where the prior cockroach took its zigzaggedy, fluttery time to tour the living/dining area, the latest roach made for the door and exited quickly.

Sometimes God answers in a crooked line--maybe/wait, sometimes it's a straight line--yes. But even if the answer is no, the one sure thing is that it's always answered with love. He always wants what's best for us. 

Thank you, Father, for the yes's, the no's, and the maybe's. May your will, love, and grace prevail always!

Ipis

I dread nothing more than cockroaches--except for maybe flying cockroaches. But I can't bring myself to kill them. So it was not a pleasant feeling to find a potentially flying one crawling around the tiny living room of the apartment I rent with B and S. As it crawled around the door near the kitchen, I asked God if he would guide the cockroach out--maybe by the hinge jamb where I could crush it, though even as I thought it, the idea made me cringe. 

The cockroach went about its business unperturbed, taking its sweet creepy crawly time, going up and falling down (sometimes with a threatening flutter), in a zigzag manner across the room. Eventually, it neared the door leading out of the house. I opened the inner wooden door. It fell upside down beneath it before making its way nearer the outer screen door, which I gingerly unlocked. The cockroach crawled to the corner of the door... I pushed it open, and watched as it slipped out. I quickly shut the screen door in relief.

This reminded me of how God answers our prayers not according to our limited words and understanding of what we think we want (e.g., please let the cockroach be in the kitchen instead of the living room), which may only be a temporary solution. He gives us answers that are better than what we ask for, in accordance with His lavish love. This love is so lavish that things other people will see as trivial, He takes into consideration--even something like a fear of cockroaches. And while we watch things go up and down, in a zigzag manner that sustains our anxiety level, things might actually be falling into place. 

Lord, thanks for taking care of the little things and the big things. Help me to trust in you, to be still and know that you are God, even if everything seems topsy turvy and out of sorts. This we ask in Jesus' name. Amen.

Speak, Lord...

Si Lord talaga, grabe mangusap!

After a prolonged absence, I finally attended my first Feast of the year. I had received my first week's wages from going back to part-time work at DWST, so I could pay for transpo and food. Thank you, Lord, for providence!

It was the third talk in the current series, God Exposed: Touch.

Several things struck me as highly personal language between my God and me: 

• the speaker used the term "Kilig moments with God," which is the title of this blog; 
• the talk on vocation struck a nerve yet again, especially when he described the "holy discontent" we experience when we are not heeding the call--recently, I felt that restlessness even in the seminary, but the slight shift in direction seems to have quieted my heart; and
•  the song "Pilgrim's Theme" by Bukas Palad was sung--the song I suggested to KB when we were having yet another heart-to-heart chat at Divine Zeal just the day before. 

Even more helpful was the confession-turned-counseling session with one of the priests at the Feast. He talked to me in a way which I found challenging and insightful. 

In sum, the message God was telling me was: 

• All vocation choices are equal. Religious life is not superior to married life or single blessedness.
• The vocations are parallel roads of loving that lead to the same destination: eternity with God.
• Vocation is the choice to love each day. Whether it is saying yes to God daily as a priest or as someone's wife or as a single person serving her family or community.
• Vocation is a gift. It is not deserved or merited but again a gift by the mercy of God.  
• To be successful at one's vocation, one must remember the source of strength through whom we can do all things: Christ.

The most liberating aspect I think was the priest's advice regarding a bit of turmoil I am undergoing: talk it over with the person concerned. I think I was so afraid I was being a stumbling block to someone, I blocked off any opportunity to talk. But the action step is: talk it over... But be prepared for either outcome. 

* * * * * * 

My aunt and uncle were having a retreat in Tagaytay over the weekend. My uncle texted me to request for two priests for confession. Unfortunately, I had forgotten my phone at the apartment and read the text at 1 am in the morning of Friday, the day they needed the confessors.

When I arrived at the seminary, several priests were in the lobby, including Fr. C, who had been sick but was now recovering. I asked him about the confessors and he recommended two: Fr. M was not available but Fr. P agreed to the 8 pm schedule. 

But then, my uncle texts to say the schedule is 5 pm to 7 pm. Oh no... there are no priests available and Fr. P has not replied whether this change is okay or not. Finally, I surrender, thinking, well that's what happens when you make a request at the last minute. So I text my uncle to relay the most likely scenario that no one can make it; everyone already has appointments. 

When the work day is done, I go up to clock out and find Fr. P there waiting! My jaw drops in gratitude. I call my aunt, let them know we're coming, ask KB for a ride, and off we go. Everything falls into place, especially KB being available and willing with her vehicle. Fr. P arrives at the retreat to save the day! Yay! 

* * * * * *

Thank you, Lord, for confessor priests and for making a way for them to get to where they're needed.

Lord, thank you for the instruments you use to speak to us. Help us to listen and obey.

I especially pray that you would guide me and ___ so we can talk openly and honestly. Grant us the grace to heed your call in the best way. May your perfect will be done. This we ask in Jesus' name. Amen.

Tiptoing... trotting...

Relationships are a tricky business especially when the people around you whom you care about are having a serious conflict. 

But I am grateful that despite the complicated situation, the graduation ceremony went off without a hitch and people somehow managed to be around each other despite everything.

Also, a decision to stay with a friend bore fruit in heart-to-heart conversation which eased my own worries and again confirmed my respect and trust in this person. Thanks, KB!

* * * * *

One block away from my house, the happy anticipation of getting home was interrupted with a sudden bump, a screech and yelp of pain--in horror, I saw a puppy looking up at me in fear under the wheel of the tricycle! All I could think at that moment was, "Lord!" and grabbing Jesus' arm. I had no words to plead for the puppy but my emotions did all the talking I think.

Somehow, the puppy escaped and trotted out--I was looking for a limp but, thank God, the cutie seemed fine, though it continued crying. Thank you, Lord, for letting the puppy be okay. Superthanks!!! 

RCF

Only now has it become clear to me how much one shepherd has been laying down his life for his sheep...

Maybe he is not liked by some of his confreres but unlike me, he does not let that stop him.

He will buy a photocopier out of his own money so he can get the best one which will last longer. He will pay the salaries of teachers in an alternative learning system (ALS) so some out of school youth will get a chance for a better future with an education.

And he advocated for me so I can get a master's degree in scripture because he saw my potential. He believed in me even before I did. He has a knack for that, choosing the right people for the right job. He picked a wonderful teacher for the ALS who keeps laying down her life for her students. He picked a critical minded librarian (who topped the license exams for his profession) so the seminary's library can be put in order. He picked a motherly coordinator for the Certificate in Theological Studies program who is able to befriend just about any one. He picks golden-hearted friends who are willing to make and sell candles to support ALS, cook dinner or wash dishes, buy curtains, take care of awards, entertain guests, sell old books, and any manner of service because they see where his heart is.

And he picked me to edit a journal for philosophy and theological studies because I am qualified to do it—I have experience with a national broadsheet and have published books under my name, one of which was hailed as one of the best reads in 2012. He saw I had a passion for scripture and an interest in the Old Testament, which providentially dovetailed with his own specialization.

And even if people around him misinterpret him and think he is some kind of dictator, the people who are in his circle know better. He puts the action in mission.

Perhaps there is a perception that I am not free to make other choices. But I am free. For a time, I was unsure of where to go and what to do with my life. I could not even say for certain that he still wanted me as part of his staff. Dynamics change. I wanted to give him the freedom if he wanted to hire someone else; on my part, I didn't want to be working full time for the seminary anymore. Part of me wanted to go back to the corporate world; another part wanted the convent. Confused might begin to cover it. But now things are becoming clearer.

All things being equal, I would choose him as my boss. It is a free response in thanksgiving for the gift of education he was generous enough to extend to me. I freely chose sacred scripture as my specialization. And I would choose it again. I could spend my life studying scripture and never come close to exhausting its richness.

I am not alone in choosing him back. His loyal right-hand man chooses him back and serves him in any way he can—be it by baking bread to support ALS or cooking dinner or taking the dog for a walk. Our librarian gave up a much more lucrative job to serve in his seminary. Teachers of sacred scripture go all the way to Tagaytay to teach because of their friendship. I would serve him for as long as he is there. 

His critics may continue to criticize. But you have to ask yourself why those who know him like to stick around. That priest has peeled a singkamas and shared half of it with me. I am not that good or humble of a servant. But no task is beneath him. He just happens to have people around him who like to do those things for him (admittedly, I only like to do office-related stuff; maybe I'll wash dishes but no, I can't cook and I dislike cleaning).

Someone might criticize him for not praying with his community enough. I think it is impossible for a man to achieve what he does if he was not secretly praying. And that's how I see his good deeds—done in secret. I think he prays in secret too.

Because of all the man does for me, for ALS, and for CTS, among others, I can't help feeling hurt that maybe some folks do not see him the way I do. I can't help feeling that we, the CTS, are at the periphery of this community. Maybe it's because he sees his service to the seminarians as one of a disciplinarian. That does not make him very popular. But as a teacher in the Certificate in Theological Studies, “a Saturday program open to everyone especially to faith-seekers and laypeople who would like to have a deeper and critical knowledge of the Bible and the Christian faith,” he is a shepherd trying to call the sheep back home. He is all smiles, no grades, and free coffee for the lay. Is it possible that the older brother seminarian is jealous of the younger prodigal child? Why does this shepherd give the younger one free coffee while giving the older brothers a lecture for doing something wrong?

Again, I believe it is how he loves. He expects much from future priests and often gives them the stick. From the lay, he hopes they will continue to deepen in the faith, so he extends the carrot. But if the older brother seminarian would just pluck up the courage to get to know Fr. R, I think he will be surprised to find RCF has a very tender heart.

For everything you do, Fr. R, thanks. You may not get an award from anyone else but we in the CTS love you very much.