Beauty in uncertainties
(Second of a series. Read the first part here.)
It was not like how I expected it to be.
First. Since the summer season has officially begun, I thought it would be a nice break to cool down and chill in Tagaytay City. But the weather was not as welcoming as I hoped it would be.
Second. My sister, who would supposedly join me and my friend Zandra for two days, did not come home. The night before, I was almost certain I would be able to talk some sense to her about her “hiberdating” with her boyfriend — which only I, among our family, know — and her seeming concerns about schooling. But neither happened.
Third. Father Mike — who, out of good will, made the arrangements — said the retreat house has been fully booked and we were fortunate to have already reserved our spots. I was wary that the spirit of silence in our two-day Lenten recollection would be spoiled because of the crowd. But it was peaceful and there was enough room for everybody.
‘Losing and loving’
Any talk of faith always, always centers on God’s great love for us; more so during the Lenten season when Catholics remember, celebrate, and believe His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.
In fact, according to Father Mike, the Gospel — or our faith — could be summarized in just one line: “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)
If the authenticity of love can be measured in sacrifices made, then, suffice to say, loving is giving. We give a portion of our time, we give gifts, and we give parts of ourselves to our loved ones. However, not all giving is loving.
Even when done condescendingly, almsgiving is still a form of giving. As well, sharing our resources to charity groups, even friends, is giving — even when done in spite or for the sake of gloating.
Pope Francis had put it tellingly: it is not charity if it costs nothing and does not hurt. Mother Teresa of Calcutta further emphasized, “Give until it no longer hurts” — that is, until giving comes naturally for us, just as much as breathing.
I reckon all will agree: Love is not love, when there is nothing to lose.
The act of loving is essentially the constant choice and continuous commitment to risk all that we have and all that we can for our beloved — like that of a mother who bares her bleeding nipples for the nourishment of her newborn, of family members who take on the challenges of working abroad to contribute to the family upkeep, of military men betting their lives in fields of combat to secure a world of peace and safety for their children’s children.
Stories like these are not new to us. We easily find them online through a quick search of keywords such as, but not limited to, “faith in humanity restored” or “gives me hope”. We experience them firsthand. However, no losing, for the sake of loving, could be any greater than the ultimate sacrifice of the Christ, who offered His own life for our redemption from sinfulness and slavery. (John 15:13)
Points for reflection: How far will and can you go for love? How much are you willing to lose?
Puzzle pieces
Literature tells us that the entirety of our lives would flash before our eyes at the time of death. The big picture. And every moment and person we meet are pieces of a puzzle that contribute to it.
We assemble them altogether, piece by piece, to get a fuller view of whichever image it intends to create. However, without even a single piece that goes missing, a puzzle will remain a puzzle, never complete, always looking for something more.
Guess what. Whenever we feel trapped in the daily rush of things and we start looking for something more beneath the surface rush of things, we need not search far and wide.
The missing piece has always been with us — and in us.
Point for reflection: Have you found the missing piece of your puzzle yet?
Life never turns out the way we expect it to be. There are highs and lows and in-betweens, but, as Father Benedict Groeschel, CFR, wrote in his book Arise from Darkness, life may not always be beautiful but it is always filled meaning.
There is beauty in the uncertainties. Find stillness from within. •
It was not like how I expected it to be.
First. Since the summer season has officially begun, I thought it would be a nice break to cool down and chill in Tagaytay City. But the weather was not as welcoming as I hoped it would be.
Second. My sister, who would supposedly join me and my friend Zandra for two days, did not come home. The night before, I was almost certain I would be able to talk some sense to her about her “hiberdating” with her boyfriend — which only I, among our family, know — and her seeming concerns about schooling. But neither happened.
Third. Father Mike — who, out of good will, made the arrangements — said the retreat house has been fully booked and we were fortunate to have already reserved our spots. I was wary that the spirit of silence in our two-day Lenten recollection would be spoiled because of the crowd. But it was peaceful and there was enough room for everybody.
‘Losing and loving’
Any talk of faith always, always centers on God’s great love for us; more so during the Lenten season when Catholics remember, celebrate, and believe His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.
In fact, according to Father Mike, the Gospel — or our faith — could be summarized in just one line: “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)
If the authenticity of love can be measured in sacrifices made, then, suffice to say, loving is giving. We give a portion of our time, we give gifts, and we give parts of ourselves to our loved ones. However, not all giving is loving.
Even when done condescendingly, almsgiving is still a form of giving. As well, sharing our resources to charity groups, even friends, is giving — even when done in spite or for the sake of gloating.
Pope Francis had put it tellingly: it is not charity if it costs nothing and does not hurt. Mother Teresa of Calcutta further emphasized, “Give until it no longer hurts” — that is, until giving comes naturally for us, just as much as breathing.
I reckon all will agree: Love is not love, when there is nothing to lose.
The act of loving is essentially the constant choice and continuous commitment to risk all that we have and all that we can for our beloved — like that of a mother who bares her bleeding nipples for the nourishment of her newborn, of family members who take on the challenges of working abroad to contribute to the family upkeep, of military men betting their lives in fields of combat to secure a world of peace and safety for their children’s children.
Stories like these are not new to us. We easily find them online through a quick search of keywords such as, but not limited to, “faith in humanity restored” or “gives me hope”. We experience them firsthand. However, no losing, for the sake of loving, could be any greater than the ultimate sacrifice of the Christ, who offered His own life for our redemption from sinfulness and slavery. (John 15:13)
Points for reflection: How far will and can you go for love? How much are you willing to lose?
Puzzle pieces
Literature tells us that the entirety of our lives would flash before our eyes at the time of death. The big picture. And every moment and person we meet are pieces of a puzzle that contribute to it.
We assemble them altogether, piece by piece, to get a fuller view of whichever image it intends to create. However, without even a single piece that goes missing, a puzzle will remain a puzzle, never complete, always looking for something more.
Guess what. Whenever we feel trapped in the daily rush of things and we start looking for something more beneath the surface rush of things, we need not search far and wide.
The missing piece has always been with us — and in us.
Point for reflection: Have you found the missing piece of your puzzle yet?
Life never turns out the way we expect it to be. There are highs and lows and in-betweens, but, as Father Benedict Groeschel, CFR, wrote in his book Arise from Darkness, life may not always be beautiful but it is always filled meaning.
There is beauty in the uncertainties. Find stillness from within. •