Borrowed Prayer

 

 

I started reading Macrina Wiederkehr’s book last year. I bought the book last June 15, 2013 and I have yet to finish it. My excuse? Good books are meant to be savored, not rushed through.

I think she was one of the reasons why I have grown fascinated with religious sisters. They are very human. But very drawn to the divine. I like the way she thinks and I think I would have wanted to be around her, observe her, listen to her and be inspired by her. She made me think of nuns, religious sisters and the clergy in a different way. She made me wonder if lay people can be the same. Could we also think in the way that they do? ( And it made me think, if I am so pleased by how she thinks and what she stands for, what must God be feeling towards her? Huh.)

I am fascinated by the way their mind ticks. And she made me think about the saints. If the living religious sisters can be like this, how about those who have been perfected by God’s grace? They have already passed through this life, so what was their life like? Before they were drawn to the Divine and after that? But I digress…

Anyway, I opened her book again today and her prayer is something that appeals to me, to my heart today. With her, I am praying this prayer too:

O God, My Refuge, My Path of Life Forever,

This I know to be true – when I needed a refuge, it was always for you whom I was seeking! Every time I tried to fill my emptiness with too many things, too much food, too many words, too much work, it was always you for whom I was seeking. Every time I hoarded more than I needed, it was you for whom I was hungering. Every time I searched in the wrong places, I was searching for you. Every time I wanted to be right more than I wanted the truth, it was you for whom I was yearning. It was always you! You are my path of life. It was always you to whom I wanted to flee for refuge. May my refuge be in you!

Amen.

Love and Other Drugs (Pt.2)

 

I read too much.

I have tried starting my blog several times with that. Reading is my chosen drug. My guilty little pleasure, along with food.

I read too much. Not a lot, but too much. I don’t read to enlighten the mind. I don’t read for literary entertainment. I do not read to know or be aware. I read to escape.

I do not have much of a life if I compare my life with that of people my age. I don’t go to parties. I never went on any night-outs. I never drink (except for red wine). I never shopped except for essential stuff (meaning books). I never leave home on weekends except for school and lately, church or SFC activities. I never went places except for work-related seminars and trainings (and I never ventured out of the venue, not in Baguio, certainly not in Tagaytay or in Manila (except for that expensive dinner with our City’s first lady) although several concerned souls dragged me around Cebu twice or thrice).

I guess when you don’t have much experience, you compensate somewhere. I compensate by reading a lot. If I can say vicarious living is experience, I would say I have been through a lot of scandalous reading material to offer me one lifetime of experience over people my age. I know stuff I am not supposed to know and I am aware of things women my age and my background and upbringing should not know about.

My teachers used to warn Nanay about the reading materials I pore over during school breaks. I hated them for ruining my enjoyment of a spicy historical romance novel and because of their reaction, I would often raise up my books covered with scantily dressed couples cavorting on lush, verdant, forest-like backgrounds, just to irritate them.

But my teachers were right. I have become addicted to these books. Whenever I am upset, I read. Whenever I am worried, scared, troubled, I read. If I do not read, I eat. Sometimes,I wish Nanay carefully monitored what I was reading all those years ago. (If I get married and have a daughter, my daughter will be reading books on my lap!).

Reading is so much easier than praying.

Reading does not bring your problems and your helplessness to mind. Reading let’s you cover up your scars, and your fears. It let’s you forget the troubles you have. It let’s you escape.

Praying reminds you of your helplessness, your powerlessness, your lack of control and your ignorance. It points out how little control you have over everything. It reminds you how human you are… how much dependent your are on God.

Reading takes away that sense of dependence. It makes you feel a false sense of being powerful and in control because you can read anytime you please. You can even skip to the back portion and know the story before hand.

But reading just makes you feel more confused, more unhappy. It binds you in its endless, utter hopeless spiral of reading and reading more to numb you from everything else.

Praying is freeing. After a long, open-hearted and honest moment of prayer, you would feel refreshed, comforted, assured. You can leave all your worries in His hands because You have been assured that He cares, He loves, and He is involved in your life and that He wants what is best for you.

Reading leaves you hopeless, more desperate and bound by the need to read more books. But prayer let’s you live. Truly live.

I know I don’t treat reading in it’s proper context and I don’t resort to prayer when I am so upset and troubled that I can barely think. I can pray when everything is okay but when sorrow, fear, pain and disappointment drowns my heart, I resort to reading.

Reading has brought me a lot of trouble. Sometimes, I wish I don’t know that much or that I can erase certain stuff, images and scenes I have stored in my head. But I can’t.

I should remember however that the love of reading is God’s gift too. But if I abuse it, it would be the devil’s tool.

Lord, teach me to use reading in good, helpful and Godly ways. Remind me that in every book I read, You are always looking over my shoulders. Lead me to good books that would nourish my soul and my heart and not just titillate my senses.

A quote from Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB comes to mind:

God is the sustaining presence that is our inheritance, our greatest good, our refuge in times of trouble. When we court other gods, the troubles in our lives tend to increase.

Regrets

Need I say more?

In No Man’s Land: An SFC ICON I am going to Miss

 

The CFC-Singles for Christ is set to have it’s International Conference (ICON) for 2014 at Cagayan de Oro. All I know about the SFC ICON is that all SFC’s in the Philippines would gather at one place to worship God. There would be talks/workshops, consultations with religious sisters, confessions and other stuff I have not heard about.

I was hoping to attend. I was looking forward to it. But, my mother thinks of Mindanao as a no man’s land. She has allowed me to attend seminars to Baguio, Tagaytay, Manila, Cebu, Bacolod but she will never allow me to go to Mindanao. Not even for work reasons and especially not for ICON.

She has something against the place. We have relatives in Mindanao. My grandfather once worked there. My Uncle spent a year or two with our relatives there. If providence allowed it, Nanay’s family would have settled in Mindanao. Lolo just got homesick so he returned home instead.

Now, I would have wanted to have my first ICON in this no man’s land. But Nanay was adamant.

Here are the workshops posted by one SFC leader in the SFC Global Iloilo page.  The workshops just make me drool.

 

I would have wanted to register in the following workshops:

1. Dip into the Deep – 8:00 AM – 12:00 PM; and

2. Personality Plus – 1:00 PM – 4:00 PM or

* Amidst the Storm – 1:00 PM – 4:00 PM or

* Road to the Future – 1:00 PM – 4:00 PM

---

I feel a little lonely over this.I know a lot of people are wondering why I am so dependent on my mother. Let me tell you the truth: I am not dependent on my mother. Nanay knows how strong-willed I am. She knows how head strong I am. I think we both know that if I leave, there really would be no looking back for me. And that will break my mother’s heart, because I know Nanay is the one who depends on me. She trusts me, she believes that I got her back, that I will be there for her. (But a time will come when she will know that even if I am not with her, there is One who has her everything, but the time is not yet now.)

I don’t want to break her heart. I only have one Nanay and despite what people know, my mother has done her best for us. I understand the shortcomings and I am not in a position to judge her actions. I am solely responsible for my decision and choice to listen to my mother’s counsel. Jesus waited until He was thirty. I could wait too.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Photo Credits: CFC facebook page; SFC facebook page

The Best Lesson I Learned in Graduate School

 

I go to Graduate School at West Visayas State University. I took up Master of Arts in Education (Language Teaching in English) last 2009 at the WVSU College of Education Graduate School.

I was a Secondary School English teacher then in a national high school in our place. I was feeling as if my brain was literally decaying so I felt the need to go to Graduate School.

Unfortunately, when I transferred in the Alternative Learning System (ALS), everything changed. I had classes on Saturdays and Sundays. My new job description does not connect with my courses in Grad School. I quit two years ago and never looked back until my mother pointed out that I was messing up with my records.I really was. I have several INC. because of unfinished courses. And I had to retake not less than three courses this year.

It’s my last Academic Year and I have a full load this semester, including one tutorial course. My work is still not connected with my courses.I did not like going back to Graduate School.  Every Saturday, I just force myself to attend my 7:30 – 1:30 classes and my tutorial sessions after that…. Until last Saturday that is.

Last Saturday, our recently widowed Phonology teacher put her foot down. I know I was taking her course for granted (although last semester, I learned a lot from her because she asked a lot from us). I can’t help it. Some things take priority over work I don’t much care about. And I can feel she sensed that. She has been feeling me up for a few weeks, really noticing my absences and tardiness from her 7:30 Am class.

I came in about two hours late for her class, unprepared for the Midterm exams and literally exhausted even as I conversed with God who, I know, was not listening to my excuses. (Well, when you keep blaming Him for being late, what will you get?)

My teacher refused to give me the exam. Instead, she asked me to return next week to get the exam and write a letter explaining why I was late.

I know, at our age, as mature adults who are already working, she should not be asking that. But, I am glad Dr. Dela Llana put her foot down last Saturday. I felt embarrassed over what happened, but as a fellow teacher, I understand her predicament. What right have I to ask just as much from my own learners when I cannot give the same kind of respect to my own teachers?

I know she wanted what was best for me. I know by doing so, she is also risking a lot – she maybe labeled as very strict, as inconsiderate. But what she did was actually kind. I don’t blame her. She gave my a much needed wake up call.

She can forgive me yes, but I have to suffer the consequences of certain actions.

You cannot succeed by making excuses for yourself. You maybe forgiven for your sins, mistakes and errors but you will always have to face the consequences of your actions, especially if a lot of other people are involved. 

Inspired

 

 

Joselito, one of my Elementary Level learners, wrote this essay last year. I was touched by what he has written. He works in his uncle’s junk shop and lives with his grand mother. At his age, he still helped his mother.

These are the things that break my heart a little every time I look deeper into my learners lives. So young, so helpless. Parents should be protecting them from life’s painful realities so that they can grow up functional and happy.

These learners who weathered the storms of life grew up scarred, but strong. I just pray that we, teachers, would be able to help them see the brighter side of life. That we can become the light that would help show the way out of whatever tunnels they are in.

One Step at a Time

 

My first year as an ALS Mobile Teacher was one year filled with so much turmoil. It was explosive because I felt like I was a baby that was thrust into the outside world for the first time.

I was emotionally volatile and vulnerable in 2010. I was feeling strongly rejected because I was not hired by my Alma Mater when my lifetime’s true dream was to become an English teacher at Passi National High School where I will teach literature, creative writing, journalism, debate and impromptu speech  (at my spare time) and open the minds of my learners to all possibilities available to them – just like what my favorite English teacher and mentor has done for me.

But it was not meant to be. God has other plans for me.

I remember lying on the floor, crying, my heart so broken , when I made the decision to leave PNHS. It was not an easy decision. It was me turning away and closing the door completely from my dream of becoming a weird English teacher-spinster.

I was already teaching as an Instructional Manager with ALS every Saturdays and Sundays back then and I knew what I was getting into when I accepted the job. It was necessity that made me do it. I needed a permanent job that pays well. This is one job that would do it. My heart was not completely involved but my head was and I was aware that I was making a commitment to being a Mobile Teacher.

Last January 4 marked my fourth year in ALS and I feel utterly blessed that I followed and obeyed and worked where I was called. Being a Mobile Teacher is no longer just the job I saw it to be. It has become a mission for me.

It was in ALS that I have grown not only as a professional but as a person. I was forced out of my self-focused shell. I was asked to get out and get involved with my learners, with the community, even with the people who run the community so that they would support the program.

In ALS, we are a family. With our supervisor (whose words I will never forget when I first went on a seminar to Baguio City with him – he told me to think of him as a father), my fellow Mobile Teachers who have become like siblings for me, my District ALS Coordinator who is much like a mother-figure.

With ALS, I was also forced to rely heavily on God. ALS placed me in a position where I realized that myself alone is not enough. It has shown me the empty pockets of my soul that requires one currency – the presence of God in my life and in my reality. We could say God forced me to come to Him because of ALS. The sense of security I was feeling at home and at work as a classroom teacher made me so self-sufficient and proud that I was able to ignore the emptiness and restlessness I was feeling.

Looking back, I have grown astounded at the progress my head and my heart has gone through. Because of ALS, I have become stronger and better as a person and I continue to grow everyday.

On our first Educational Tour in 2010, the report I prepared and the video I made was inspired by the then famous pop song, One Step at a Time. With ALS, everything comes in one step at a time. Just like the growth of the soul, you can’t force it. You just have to live it.

Thank you Lord, for giving me a career that has helped me to grow as a person. Thank you for making me work in a place where I was forced to make connections so that my heart could expand and my soul extend (I just wish it would shrink my girth too).Indeed, You know what is best for me. Amen.

 

Perfect Peace

Life is one tension after another.

When you think you have just met one deadline and can sit back and relax, another one would come in. Sometimes, tension does not wait. In the middle of a life altering problem, another turmoil inserts itself.

Will there ever be peace and ease for man’s weary heart?

When you feel this alone, this desperate, is there ever peace like the one your heart is longing for?

According to Laura Story’s song, Perfect Peace, there is:

Lord, I long for Your perfect peace. Right now, I feel alone, desperate, lonely, overwhelmed with struggles… remind me that I am never alone.

Beloved 2013

 

At the end of 2013, I was confused and a little out of sort. I was often not thinking clearly. I was feeling down and discouraged. Walking with Jesus while holding hands with the devil is a difficult  experience, and a humiliating one.

So, I was not able to write a year-ender that would clearly show what 2013 was like. I needed to look back and realized that the answer was just there, staring at me. It’s like a veil has been lifted.

2013 is a beautiful year despite the pains and trials that my heart and soul went through. It was beautiful exactly because of those pains.

This 2013, I realized and really felt that I am a daughter of God. But realizing that I am His daughter does not make me perfect in an instant. There is still an ongoing struggle of dying everyday against my own desire to be, what the world would call, myself. That self was a creature of darkness who only considers her self at the center of every thought, decision and action.

This 2013, I also appreciated being a Roman Catholic. Our so called religion is so rich with tradition and rituals which are often misunderstood and persecuted even by Roman Catholics themselves. I always avoided calling myself a Roman Catholic because of the distrust I felt over these very same traditions and rituals. I don’t want to be like my grandmother who is so dogmatic in her faith nor do I want to be like those people who come to church and curse and yell and hate other people outside it. I did not go to church because I think of these same people as hypocrites, going to church and not living up to the tenets of Christianity. Now, I hear the mass and go to confession not because it is required or desirable for a Catholic to do so. I want to be a part of that community that worship Him and I long for my soul and my heart to be healed and touched by Him. Attending SFC Household meetings and conferences is no longer enough. I need Him too much to wait for SFC activities.. And about my fellow “hypocritical Catholics? I remember what our supervisor once told me when I explained why I do not go to Church “You do not hear the mass for them, but for Him.” It did not make sense before, but it does now. And so, the judgmental, prideful and sick daughter of the Lord goes to church…

This 2013, I felt and experienced His love. When people used to ask  me if I love God,  I did not answer. I really did not know. How can I love someone who does not care about me? Despite what they taught us, despite John 3:16, I just did not get it. John 3:16 will remain a verse until you experience what God’s love truly means. This 2013, I experienced more of His love. What felt as a short, swift caress before became an onslaught and outpouring this 2013. It’s not because He did not love me. It’s because I did not trust Him so I did not open up myself to Him. His persistent love is overwhelming in its intensity, strong and gentle, forgiving, merciful, kind and understanding but firm despite it all. Everyday, I have to be reminded of that love. It’s so easy to forget that I am His daughter, that He loves me so much when you encounter so much pain, and problems and difficulties everyday.  Honestly, there are days when I keenly feel His presence but there are days when He is just so absent in my life and during those days, I would feel so lonely and so alone despite the presence of people around me. I would ask, why can’t He just be here every moment and every day of my life? I know and understand during those times, I should trust Him. But knowing and feeling are not the same and sometimes, feelings would just overwhelm me and I would start fearing.

I feel that I should be a religious sister because I long for the perfection of the union of my soul with Him. I see no other way that this could be possible. I don’t know what to do with my life as it is. But I don’t have the courage to do what I feel I should do.

So, I wait. Wait for more this 2014. Wait for His will to unfold. Wait and trust in His ways.

 

The people in my life this 2013

My family                                                Graduate School folks

My ALS Family                                         My learners

My SFC Family

                                                  You are the Light of the World

                                                   by Simon Dewey