Rest a While

 Rest a while. While I was driving on my way to work a few months ago, the serenity, peacefulness and beauty of the surroundings invited me to contemplate. Though I felt restlessness and anything but peace on my way to that job and working there, the greenery from the trees and flourishing plants reminded me of God's care and peace.

When I got sick 3 times in the past 2 months, I would think about that time of driving past the serenity of lush plants in an upscale area, and felt God was calling me to rest. He was calling me to rest when I got sick just 2 weeks apart and had to lay low and was forced to contemplate and trust. I felt like I was pulled out of a bad job and experience, knowing deep down it was causing a lot of trauma, as well as reliving trauma which would essentially take weeks or more to process, heal and recover from. 

Rest, prayer, stillness, this would be the answer to my heightened anxiety and disturbance. I felt getting sick was my body's way of also recovering and slowing down from the busyness of running from place to place as well as my mind in knots from stress. 

This past Sunday's Gospel reading reminded me of this rest. Jesus says to his disciples, "Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while."  A while meaning sometime, a definite amount of time perhaps, but in the end productive and rejuvenating. 

I felt like I needed to do just this over the weekend. I had anxiety and anguish that led to very little sleep and felt like my body was running on fumes. I needed to restore peace, prayer and time to sit and just be. I didn't want to leave adoration, and so I stayed until everyone left for Mass, and I was the last one, as well as the first one to open the curtains and close them and say goodbye to Jesus in the Eucharist. I felt my peace restored and my mind cleared and felt like myself again. 

What Jesus said in the Gospel reading resonated with me, as I felt it was directed at me. I'm glad I listened. 

Blessings of Memories

 Looking back is an interesting experience. It stirs upon deep feelings of sometimes nostalgia and memories of God's hand and grace at work. Looking at 'old' photos wasn't so much old but feeling that much time has passed even if just 3 years' worth. 

The simple things come to me as special, the routine, even sometimes the rut in what I was going through, the hard and raw parts, the stirrings on my heart, my program and all the work involved, the students I was helping at my job, and time with my dear sisters and driving to Fairfield to visit, to babysit, sleep overs, and for quality time. 

I would often look to the future or at least think about it and often wonder what it would look like, how would things unfold? I was wrapped up in others' lives sometimes, but also my own and the present moment and making the best of it even when I didn't love everything about it. 

I recently reread an email my sister wrote August 2018and sent to me 3 years after she wrote it to the exact day. It was everything I needed to hear as I was going through the same thing she was at that time and her words were so comforting. I read it while I was making my lunch the evening before the first day of the school year. It would be another year at my same job, and feeling like I was walking on parched ground. My younger brother had just gotten engaged, and I was trying to embrace this new season and feeling like everything was staying the same yet also a new level of hard. I was growing a lot amidst the ordinary and it was very humbling. 

That time is seen as more sweet than bitter now looking back. It taught me a lot. There were simple and ordinary days mostly even if things were starting to change post Covid closures. There was a sense of peace I was on the right page despite the unknown. God had it all under control. It was a grace filled and beautiful time. 

Nov. 2021 With my Uncle and Mom; Uncle and nephew's birthday party

Guadalupe

In the beginning of the year, I found out about Blessed Guadalupe Ortiz on the Opus Dei website, and I was intrigued by her life story and interested to know more. I read part of an e book and then purchased the book of letters to her spiritual director, St. Josemaria. 

Then, for my birthday my dear sister gifted me a book about her that I had been wanting to read. As I've been reading it, I've gotten to know more about her and her life story, and am in awe and inspired by her generosity, cheerfulness, and faithfulness.  Her positive spirit and humor uplifts and her rich spiritual life. I find thigs that are different or similar to me, like also her devotion to St. John of the Cross. But mostly, wanting to be more like her and learn from her example. Today is the day she passed away, but her declared feast day is May 18. 

I felt inspired to copy and draw a picture of her from the book I'm reading. I feel she has been with me throughout this year and at the start of this new year for me turning a new age. I drew flowers on her clothes not as a copy but rather as a symbolism of this new year in what I see as the richness and beauty of flowers. 

Blessed Guadalupe Ortiz, pray for us

An Image

 Going to the church today restored my peace, but it took time. It took longer than expected and anticipated. But with silence, praying the rosary, reading some spiritual reads, and writing in my prayer journal, the veil was lifted. And I didn't feel at all similar to what I felt upon entering. And I was grateful. 

Upon exiting, as usual, I say some prayers in front of Our Lady of Guadalupe image. This image is the definition of peace, of joy. I love looking at it and contemplating Our Lady. And then it reminded me of an image of myself- 10 years ago.

10 years ago, I was in the exact same church, going to daily Mass and praying in front of Our Lady of Guadalupe image. Oh, how different life looks now, and I am, but how similar! I am the same yet different, 10 years older, yet still a child in the spiritual life, in my life of figuring out the next steps, in language studies, in my awareness of God's love for me. 

10 years ago, I reenacted my studies in Chinese. I had started in January of that year but then stopped for a little bit in the spring and summer with German instead, but then decided upon Chinese since I wanted to study it and take classes at my University. 

Now, I have been entering into that world again and reviewing my notes and learning. So much time had passed, but my memory of learning Chinese and dedication hasn't been forgotten. 

Just like seeking peace and joy in God's presence, and entering into the church for some silence, it hasn't been forgotten of what He can do, what He can heal, and provide- so much goodness and richness! 

Anoiting

 I would feel embarrassed if I were her., with everyone's reactions and opinions. But she didn't seem to be. She was only focused on Him and the deeper meaning of pouring perfume spike nard on His feet before His passion, anointing Him and her deep faith in Him. I never thought about the details of this scene until I saw how it was depicted in hit TV series, The Chosen. 

People were questioning why this was done, especially after the very strong aroma filled the room as she opened the jar and dried Jesus' feet with her hair. One or two people gathered there such as Judas Iscariot declared it was a waste, and that the money been used for the poor. 

The way the scene is portrayed is in an interesting way and made me think- am I like Judas? Do I rashly question the meaning of something without considering the deeper significance and even attribute of charity? Or is it just something hypothetical or in theory that sounds nice that could have been done. Does my empath self immediately attune to triggering waste but not looking deeper within myself for reflection?

Mary of Bethany did this beautiful and devoted act of anointing Jesus that others could fully understand, especially with the high expense of the perfume. As The Chosen artistically depicts with the other disciples, Lazarus and Our Lady, two spiritual leaders of the Pharisees at table with food. 

Furthermore, this deeper spiritual meaning as well of putting all things at Jesus' feet. I like to think of this gesture, and I remember a priest told me this too. When I see a crucifix, to imagine touching His nail driven and wounded feet, or a statue of Him as a young child- touching his feet and having the posture of my heart lay all my concerns there.