The (Dry) Well

 It started with a well. Last summer, I was on a road trip with my parents, and we saw various places and missions, one of them was San Luis Obispo Mission. As we were viewing the church and the grounds, I came across a prayer card to St. Joseph. There was just one near the door, and I happened to lose or misplace mine, perfect to find one I could use.

As I was walking outdoors to the grounds, I saw a well. It wasn't in use, but perhaps it was once before. It was pretty and interesting to look at and the plants nearby. I had a deep interior thought and confidence that if I prayed this prayer on the St. Joseph prayer card, I would land a job (which I was desperately searching for and needing). 

This well became a symbol throughout the whole school year, as eventually I did get a job after some responses back, interviews that the Holy Spirit led me to the right one. The school was called Wells, and I couldn't deny the symbolism from the Mission, but also what would succumb to this new season. 

It very often felt like I was digging in the 'well' and trying to be innovative with what I had and what was given to me. In my mind's eye, I thought a well had life, water and nutrients. The season or well, if you will, that I was in felt very dry, monotonous and challenging. The water wasn't overflowing and moving, but rather parched, still and stagnant. There was something wrong, where was the life, the nutrients, the refreshment?

Day in and day out in this job felt rather similar. Of course, there were better and more freeing days than others, yet it all was a learning and growing season. One of the moments of reflection with water and the well was when I would fill up my water bottle on campus. I would try to think of Jesus and the woman at the well. 

I think one of the growths was recognizing that though I was digging hard, finding life and nutrients in this well may have looked differently than I expected it to and may also come later on. Sometimes we see the fruit of various seasons, especially hard ones and appreciate them much more in the future and see more of the graces and what God was doing than in the moment. 

A dry well is a beautiful well, since that's when you really stop and look to see if there is water, and how deep do you need to go; how deep, and then life will spring forth on its own time. 

Last Day of School

 The papers from the large recycling bin were flying everywhere from the wind, as I walked across campus on the last day of school. It felt like God, the Holy Spirit guiding, leading the way, all the memories and hard parts being erased. All the papers, intentions scattered throughout the campus, and all the deeper thoughts, feelings, wishes, spread, let go, freedom. 

The Holy Spirit guided me to this job. I felt such a deep sense of peace, joy and reassurance. God had a way of folding this into His plan when part of my internship was here, and I felt it strongly, undeniably, painfully and saddened I was no longer at a school, with students. 

I've clung and held onto that experience whenever I would walk by that area on campus, outside the library in a hallway. Boy, how long ago that felt, but I sensed the Holy Spirit called me here for some reason. A reason that I myself am not fully sure, especially since it was a very, very long school year, hard in some nontypical ways. 

But I also see it looking back on this journey, that God led me back to the desires on my heart, to be at a school again and with students. It was nothing like my prior experience at a school, and I think that was one of the disappointments, where my expectations and assumptions weren't met. 

On that last day of school, I passed by one of the first people I encountered during that internship time. I was in this teacher's class for a few short months this school year, and he was the teacher who was available to help with a librarian's car battery. He was a science teacher, and I felt uncomfortable and not warm or friendly vibes while in his class. It felt like beginning and the end came together as we walked passed each other, and the papers kept flowing in the wind, and it was the start of a new chapter. 

Confirmation Mass and Memories

 Going to the Confirmation Mass for the teens I had been with for 2 years in their program brought me to so many places in my memory. It wasn't just the official sacrament for them and receiving the Holy Spirit, but I felt that I was recalling so many other occasions in this same church. 

Just 3 years ago, my brother and sister-in-law's wedding, a beautiful day and being part of the wedding part was special and busy. Thinking about all the times my sweet sister and I attended Sunday Mass there together, and sometimes going on outings afterwards-cafe, hiking, shopping or simply talking in the car and sharing out thoughts and feelings, our unique season in life. 

I also remember well the dear pastor who I would frequently go to Confession to and helped me in my prayer and spiritual life and was a deep comfort and source of spiritual fatherhood in those hard seasons. Also, sometimes the former young adult ministry would attend Mass there on Sundays and brunch afterwards. 

So many recollections, memories and even nostalgia, all part of my young adulthood journey. I even thought about my own Confirmation (though at a different parish)- choosing my saint name (St. Maria Goretti) and sponsor (one of my dear sisters.) And now, having been assisting with the Teen Confirmation program, it's been its own journey of guiding these teens, as well as learning along the way, yet truly being guided by the Holy Spirit. 

It was something I never considered helping out with before, however, Summer of 2023, I had a big desire on my heart to share my faith and help others in this way. I also helped volunteer once with my mom for boxing food with the church and it was in the same area as confirmation would be held- only 4 months later that I would be doing that, little did I know. 

There were many signs and praying for discernment when a call and opening came up to help out with this program, in a dry season, a difficult season. I'm so glad I listened and went through with it, even though I didn't know everything at the time, it worked out itself. God worked it out, and it was seamless. 

Morning Traffic, Morning Thoughts

 I was driving around the other day, not lost but rather stuck in heavy traffic. I would be late to work. I knew that, but honestly it felt like it didn't matter as I didn't do much in that first class, or much at all it seemed throughout the day, as most days I felt like I was just 'getting through it.' 

I wasn't panicking, but more just annoyed or even frustrated. I had attempted to wake up earlier in order to try to make it to confession that morning, but alas, the line was too long with not enough time for me, and I got there a little later than I had initially wanted. Drained, tired was already what I was feeling for the beginning of a new day, and not quite Friday. 

As I was getting off the freeway traffic, I stumbled upon side streets and the hills, and cars going every which way to work, trucks chugging through, and the hillsides, beauty and calm, peace. I prayed to my guardian angel to help me find a way back or beat the traffic somehow. I happened to see across the way my alma mater in the distance, my Junior College, and decided to go that way, into the side streets beaming with memories and former carefree and younger days that feel like ages ago now, like butter already melted and evaporated in a pan before the eggs crack open. 

Back on the freeway I went, and though this time there was still traffic that felt slow, it wasn't as slow as molasses in January. It continued only for a little while and then everything was clear. I guess I should have waited instead of taking time to get back on, I thought.

I felt that God was with me in that moment, like He always is. Taking care of everything, and knowing my true desires, frustrations and burnt-out feelings. Feeling more ready for the next season but also wondering what it will be like. Just like those hillsides, God is there, God is watching, and He instills peace and calm. 

Nothing Like Motherhood

 I can't help but think about a year ago, finishing out my program completely with my last class, assignments and blog post. I was at a Starbucks submitting my last pieces of writing, commenting- it all felt very surreal, somewhat bittersweet but also exciting. 

In that moment, my thoughts hadn't caught up yet. I knew Our Lady was watching over me, as I had finished on the feast day of Our Lady of Fatima. I had gotten sick, so couldn't finish out the last two days at my horrible job, but honestly, I felt it was God's protection. 

I'm also thinking about last week. But somehow, it feels like a blur in someways, and in others I'm just in awe. I'm in awe of motherhood and how much it takes energy wise, but also love, wisdom, planning, sacrifice, sacrifice, and some more sacrifice. These are just some of the words of how I can describe it. 

Last week, I was helping out with my sister's children. My mom and I were staying over and helping out while she was welcoming her baby boy. I realized the intensity of motherhood, the rewards, the giving, and the exhaustion in ways I haven't fully experienced before with my nieces and nephews. 

It was a gift to experience, and it put me in a whole other world and dimension. One so strong where I literally forgot about my outside life, it wasn't merely as important or busy. I would think of my dear sister and ask myself, how does she do it? Day after day? Now I can understand it better, the hard, the good, and enduring it throughout the day. The days can feel fast or long depending on various factors. I also thought of Our Lady and her motherhood to Jesus, and the different demands.

I felt blessed, the one where my niece and nephews feel comfortable with me, and comforting them in their time of pain, tiredness, tears, frustration, laughter, joy. My sweet nephew utterly distraught about hurting his small toe outside and comforting and consoling him to calm his cries and sobs down and talking him through it. Or when he woke up twice in 2 days in the middle of the early morning or night due to a nightmare. And in my exhaustion, just holding and rocking him and whispering comforting words, or saying a hail Mary or two. What sacrifice, but what beauty, to still a young child in their fears, and to know that God does the same for us. 

And holding and meeting my newest nephew for the first time was such a miracle, so special. He is so precious and adorable. There is just something so miraculous about holding a baby, a newborn. It feels as though time stops, and joy and wonder overflow. 

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I would hear the crickets in the dusk and nighttime. It felt like summer, the very hot days melting into the cool night sky. I could be still with my thoughts on the comfy couch if my sister and brother-in-law and where I would be sleeping each night. It was comfortable and I slept well. I wanted to write some of those nights, but I didn't have the mental capacity to sift through the day or describe, though I wanted to, not sure how to articulate. My inspiration was lower, but I would try again the next night. 

 But what I experienced was special, and looking back on the day felt bittersweet- another day over, even if it felt longer or quicker, we got through it, and to savor those precious moments and the intensity of some moments. A unique feeling all its own. I would read some books, do some Russian study for my language course, check my email. Another day was approaching, and I needed to be well rested, I thought, as I would hear the crickets singing outside the window. 

Taking Notice

 I was trying to focus and be in the present and look all around me and see beauty. Today, I noticed flowers. Something that may seem ordinary but so beautiful, especially in this blooming springtime. I think this noticing also comes with intentional noticing and gratitude. 

When our mind is preoccupied with many things, it's hard to see the good, and beautiful around us, no matter how simple. Gratitude comes in when we thank God for the wonderful gifts and blessings we have and immediately it shifts our mindset and focus to be more positive. 

That's what I was thinking of this morning, thanking God for making a way for me to work at a school again, with students, close to home and that big desire being met knowing I was meant to work here, even though it's been quite a challenging school year. 

Little things like this can really make a great start to the day. 

History class- Renaissance decor

Bright flowers on lunch break

Alter flowers after adoration

Crumbs From the Cake

 I was thinking about that time when I met up with my dear sister in February. It was President's Day, and it felt long overdue. I remember the morning to be kind of cloudy and gloomy. We went to a cake place, but also a cafe. I saw displays of these cakes and models of them on the wall. We also went to a nice brunch spot called 'Crumbs' a month later. We wanted to go there for a long time, but it was always crowded. 

It made me think, cakes are made up of crumbs. Life is made up of small moments. Friendship is made up of shared moments, laughter, vulnerability, conversation, time spent. And cakes are a symbol of celebration. It always feels like a celebration when we meetup, talk, share and are in one another's presence. 

Those cakes on the wall reminded me of goodness, joy, gratitude. In the moment, I didn't really feel like that as it was a challenging time and like a winter slump. 

I want to see more of the goodness around me and not just the crumbs that go by each day. 

Scripture and Gardens

 "So, you find in our Jesus a personality that's so unique. He acts the same way with you and me. When He doesn't answer our prayers, He lets us hunger a day. When He doesn't do what we desire, He lets us hunger a second day. And when we're dissatisfied with His will, He makes us wait a third day in hunger and thirst until the time comes when He decides He has to help us." - Mother Angelica

I was reading this book by Mother Angelica about the Bible and scripture. It was very eye opening, inspiring and enriching. It was a different way of looking at scripture, meditating, understanding and imagining. I 've learned that's what we have to do, imagine the scene as if you were there. 

I really like how Mother Angelica writes and asks these questions to ourselves and what we would be thinking and experiencing, forming this prayer, this closeness with Jesus, with the living word of God. 

I feel it's taken a back seat in my life. To be still, to really pray and be attentive to God's word. Somehow, the beginning of the Easter season you forget that it's the most beautiful, joyful, glorious time, or at least its aimed to be. That's where prayer and scripture come in, to go back into God's word, and more time -sifting through it. 

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I've been thinking of a garden. The vision of a garden came to me throughout Lent. When I would see flowers in a chapel, I would think of a garden and visiting Jesus among plants and flowers. 

When I was on a run sometime last week, I passed by a house that always reminds me of a garden. It has overflowed plants and some wildflowers in front, it looks unkept but mysterious. It has a gate that secures the walkway, definitely like a mysterious and glorious garden enclosed.

 I feel there are a number of scriptures that pertain to this.

And also relating to gardens, I hadn't realized or paid attention that Jesus was buried in a garden on Good Friday. I guess it makes sense since Mary Magdalen thought he was the gardener when she went to the tomb on Easter morning. 

And also, going back to the Garden of Eden where God formed Adam and Eve and the fall of humankind and then the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus was in anguish and sweated blood on Holy Thursday. We can find God in a garden. St. Faustina in her diary mentions seeing Jesus while she is walking in a garden, so beautiful. Now with Easter joy, a garden of graces, and blessings, abundant with lilies. 

Easter Healing

 I was thinking the other day about Easter 2020. It was a crazy, scary, unpredictable time. Easter Sunday came and then that night, I had a huge bout of anxiety. I was so afraid, I couldn't sleep. I kept hearing sounds below my room that felt magnified in my fear and uncertainty, and my restless mind. I had really bad insomnia. Even the evening time would stir up anxiety, as I knew bedtime and nighttime were quickly approaching. 

It was not only exhausting, as I was barely getting any sleep during the nights, but also depressing, and discouraging. I felt so triggered, and it was hard to get out of it. That lasted for a month. I believe Our Lady healed me, as I felt so trapped and helpless. 

One of my sisters was praying for me, specifically to Our Lady of Good Health and mailed me a prayer for it. I think prayer and humor went very far to help and heal (the night I slept the most soundly and peacefully in weeks was when I watched the Disney movie Mulan and couldn't stop laughing). When I woke up that morning, I realized I had slept the whole night and truly felt healed. 

I think of that time and realize how much the enemy wanted me to focus not only on myself, but also on my fears, and anxiety to control me, lose my peace and bring me down, especially during the Easter season- a time of joy and hope! Easter is such a blessed and joyful time, and so many ways to make it so. Though those weeks felt intense and a never ending of severe insomnia, I see the power of God, and Our Lady to answer prayers and to heal.  

April 16th, A New Perspective

 I was driving to my test, and the thought of the date, April 15th came to mind. The date was actually April 16th as I was driving, but April 15th was looming over my head. Exactly a year ago on that day, I submitted and was working vigorously to finish my Masters program e-portfolio.

 It was a joyous day when I woke up the next day knowing it was all done, and I completed this humongous task even while feeling anxious, depressed, off with myself and nauseous at times, God, St. Joseph gave me all the strength and graces to finish strong and do it, despite the temptations at times to give up completely. 

April 16th felt like a light, a burden no longer carrying hard and heavy on my shoulders. It felt utterly surreal. On April 16th this year, I felt like I had come full circle, as I was taking a math exam that I had taken nearly 7 in a half years earlier and attempted to study and take again more than once throughout the years. 

It's been a goal of mine for a long while to complete and pass this test that sometimes feels like it becomes less blurry in the background and takes its spot in the forefront. That's what it felt like this time. It was the timing of it all, a year apart from fishing my big project, and now on to this one, this path, mission. It all was God's timing, and I felt proud of myself- look how far I've come, look what this school year has showed and taught me. Look at what God is doing as I was walking in the strong and vibrant spring sunshine, to find the testing center. It's in God's hands. 

Mary and the Tomb

 It's not yet Easter, but we were celebrating the coming of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. It's not yet Easter, but Lent feels like it's almost over but it's not over yet. 

Mary Magdalene visits the tomb, and it looks like Easter Sunday, but in the hit TV series, 'The Chosen', it's a foreshadowing, as she glances and looks more in depth into the tomb, the one that Lazarus rose from after the great and last miracle and sign of Jesus. I personally have loved the way they have detailed Mary Magdalen's story and journey in 'The Chosen', her spiritual growth and depth, her witness to faith, her battles, her courage.

I also love how The Chosen does this- foreshadowing, creative snapshots, interesting storytelling, characters arcs, as well as clever and captivating dialogue and scenes. I was drawn to this image of Mary, so I put it as my screen saver on my computer. It's a remembering of Jesus' resurrection, His great miracle, mercy, love and redemption but also, as a reminder I guess, to pay attention, to listen. 

Mary Magdalen was paying close attention and listening, and was even there during Christ's passion. She was awake and spiritually prepared. This what I see in this snapshot. And it's not Easter yet, so just a few short days and the Tridium coming soon to prepare and be spiritually awake. 

Two Gifts

 Yesterday I received two gifts. One was a bag my mom made and sewed with pretty floral material. She gave it to me without me knowing she made it and had me in my mind. It was nice, and pretty like I said. But I guess I didn't love it in the sense that I would use it. If I'm honest, it looked more like a little girl, something for my younger nieces. I mentioned that to my mom, and she said that was fine, no hurt feelings. 

I apologized again, and felt a bit bad that I didn't really embrace this gift, it just didn't really look like me. My mom said it was fine, but she felt that the colors and blend of the floral material looked more artsy and like Monet or Impressionism style and that's why she thought of me. I guess I could start seeing it too, and it didn't so much look like 'little girl' but rather beautiful, creative, artsy, and simple- my mom had me in mind, and I embraced the gift. 

The second gift, if you will, was when my mom was going through old photos and cards. She came across one of me and handed it to me- it was of my Junior year in High School. I was surprised I didn't flinch. I never liked this photo, and it was actually my least favorite yearbook photo and also interesting my least  favorite year in High School (it was by far my hardest year in many respects). But I actually came to like it. 

I never liked it since my face looked not so much tan but sunburnt- I couldn't really tell anymore. I didn't like my smile or my eyes in the photo, but now they just 'spoke me', little me at 17. I didn't love my hair, but I actually liked it with its blonde streaks and highlights, but mostly strawberry blonde look- I must say it was a gorgeous color that I never paid attention to. I felt my cheeks were bigger because of the sun streaked face, but again, it just looked like me with a year of JV high school basketball behind me, two years of French class, a year of being VP for the Students for Life club, 2 years with my sister and 2 years to come with my younger brother, and many, many bus rides still to go, and many behind me, not to mention waiting at the bus stop sometimes longer than usual, and a year ahead of loving my math class, not thriving being President of SFL club, navigating friendships, and missing my sister while she was in Italy, as well as my two other sisters who moved out within a span of a week. There was so much ahead, and I didn't even know. 

10 years later, I would be working at a High School, and happy to be staff and not a high school student anymore. It feels great to embrace all that awkwardness, self-doubt, and teenage growth in yourself years later and see it as a learning curve and a journey and just how precious all of it is. It was a gift to see that school photo again. And sometimes, after all these years later, I feel deep down I haven't really changed too much at all.

Annunciation

 Feast of the Annunciation today.  I didn't go to Mass, but already it felt like a better and more uplifting day than yesterday. This warm, spring weather and blossoming air really uplifts the spirit after the winter chill and rain. 

Today, I was thinking about Our Lady, who said yes to God's plan of her carrying in her womb the Savior of the world and becoming a mother to Him. I thought about her questioning, her willingness to do God's will and her joy in becoming pregnant with her own Lord and Savior.

 When I felt the sunshine on my face, and the tree blossoms, and a tree in the morning sunlight today, I thought also of the contrast with this beauty- Satan's interruption and hate for it. Since he already interrupted it once with Adam and Eve, this was God's divine plan and intervention. 

I thought of this contrast with the evil one, since a movie I've seen a couple of years ago titled, 'Mary of Nazareth' depicts Mary peacefully and joyfully in nature looking up at a tree, and around the corner of the tree is the snake lurking, not too soon before the angel Gabriel appears to her when she is back at her house.  I love the way Mary is so peaceful and content and is so willing and happy to say 'yes' to God's plan., even if she doesn't fully understand it. 

I feel this has already been a 'year of Mary' for me with daily rosaries, listening to rosary in a year, listening to Immaculee speak and share about her love for Mary and the rosary, purchasing and wearing Marian inspired jewelry created by my dear sister, consecration to Our Lady of Lourdes again this year. 

I only want to keep up devotion to Our Lady and emulate her love, joy, peace and trust in God's plan. 

It Started with Banana Pancakes

 It started with banana pancakes. This past Sunday, I made banana pancakes for breakfast using Ina Garten's recipe. It was fun to mix the ingredients, bake, and eat them. It was better than any ordinary (banana) pancake I must say, just as Garten states.

The week ended with attending a young adult event at a person's house and thinking I would meet only strangers, which I was happy to do, but I also saw a few familiar faces and had good conversations with them and the people I didn't know as well. People are craving connections, community, like mindedness and feeling a part of something. I feel this too...as I figure out my next steps and find purpose and meaning in my next chapter and line of work/career. 

But it was a breath of fresh air, spring blossoms and cool spring rain rising into my lungs as I entered that house last night. Bubbling with conversation, drinks and eating, and endless possibilities and hope. Hope that there are people out there, and that there are purposes and reasons for this dryness at times.

Dryness, emptiness. These words I read in the daily readings yesterday at Mass from the Old Testament with Joseph whose brothers tried to kill him since he was favored by his father and they were jealous of him. Sometimes I too can feel and experience this dryness like Joseph who was "stripped of the long tunic he had on; then they took him and threw him into the cistern, which was empty and dry" (Genesis 37). But then I know that there's a reason, a purpose, light at the end of the tunnel and hope. 

Unexpected Graces from Retreats

 I never would have expected to have gone on 3 retreats in 3 years. These weren't necessarily planned on my own accord, but rather just came about. 

The first one in 2023 was a spring retreat, after Easter but still during the Easter season. It was in mid-May right around Mother's Day. One of my sisters was helping plan it and invited other women (it was a women's silent retreat). I initially thought I couldn't go due to a lot of assignments and a busy time of year. But later, I felt an inspiration from the Holy Spirit to go, and everything did work out and was able to take some time off work and everything to make it happen. I'm so glad I did. 

I still remember this special and refreshing retreat, one which was so needed to get away from all the noise, and distractions. We were given small notebooks to take our notes in throughout the retreat, and I tried my best to take the notes from the priest's reflections and homily; he was a profound speaker. 

It was nice to be around other catholic women and cultivate this prayerful silence and listening to the reflections from the CFR priest and time spent in adoration, as well as opportunities for confession. My sister asked me to be a lector for one of the readings and though I was somewhat nervous, it was powerful to proclaim the word of God. 

The second retreat was at the end of 2024 for Confirmation. I was helping out with this weekend retreat for the Confirmation Year 2. I didn't realize or anticipate how much I needed to get away, in silence, in nature, beauty, outdoors and to be with the teens and get to know them a little more. There was preparation for this retreat, but I didn't expect that it would feel like a retreat for myself as well- so many graces, consolations, tears, gratitude, prayers. It was a trying time. 

The 3rd retreat was this year, just 2 weeks ago. I heard about it from my sister-in-law. It was the author and speaker, Immaculee Ilibagiza who spoke at a church. And luckily, it wasn't too far away, and I was able to make it work with my schedule. It was so beautiful to meet her in person, after reading her books a number of times. I used that small green notebook I used from the women's retreat to take notes on what she said. I never would have imagined having met her. It was a joyous and grace filled time. 

Refreshment

 

I felt this drive, this vigor to study, to pursue, to accomplish. To create goals for myself, ones that last and have meaning and purpose but also challenging and motivating. I had a plan, to go to a new adoration chapel and upon entering I felt like God was waiting for me (He always is waiting for us) since there was no one there at the time. I took it all in, the beauty of the new and refreshing setting.

It was so inviting, so beautiful, peaceful, and quiet. I could let my thoughts in my mind and heart sink into the walls, the statues of Our Lady and St. Joseph, to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. It was a hard day. Another day of having so much in my interior to be sifted through from the day to process, to heal, to pray, to listen, to reflect and breathe. 

I noticed when I left the chapel, my breathing was lighter, peaceful and the strains and tension on my shoulders dissipated. Going to that chapel really helped, and also a new environment, a new, refreshing place to pray, to be still. 

Afterwards, I went to a cafe to study. One that I've been to throughout the seasons. I tried to review a little before I would talk to my brother on the phone. From the window, I could see the sky turn a light pink, the stillness and cool air enter as its shift was about to come. The afternoon was fading and evening was entering like a Polaroid as I slowly sipped, ate, and wrote down notes. My brother and I talked and caught up a bit, it was good. He was about to enter into his night shift. 

As I was driving home, I couldn't help but think of a year ago and where I was at, and what I was doing. I felt like I had grown so much, learned and been through growing seasons that stretched me in new ways, in good ways, in purposeful and painful ways. I felt like I was doing things at times a year ago just because, just to get it done, but didn't really believe it with all my heart, didn't really know what the result or outcome would be. I knew deep down that there were pieces missing to the puzzle. I just wasn't sure if I would ever find them. 

Like hindsight, like a bird's eye view, wisdom shows its face, and the past becomes clearer, more understandable. I see things clearer now, and I feel like God has laid out my path in ways I hadn't fully noticed, hadn't believed in, somewhat doubtful and unready. 

He will guide in my days, He will set a lamp to my feet to walk, to trust in Him. 

Marian Flowers, Marian Week

 I feel that this was a Marian week. I was trying to emulate and soak in all that I received from Immaculée's retreat and about Our Lady and the Rosary. I asked Our Lady Monday morning, to be with me at work, to feel her presence. I felt my prayer was answered when a teacher announced on email that there were some flowers up for grabs in the breakroom/teacher lounge. I was interested to look and see these flowers.

I was happy no one else was there, as I could take my time to look through which ones to take, daffodils, lily, tulips, hydrangea. I felt like Our Lady was inviting me, with me in my day, as I had just two days ago consecrated myself to her. I had put a fuchsia pink rose with baby's breath in a vase near her statue at the church while Immaculee was praying. These flowers I took from work also felt like a reminder of life, of spring, of beautiful things. 

Two days last week, I put a rosary in my pocket. So, throughout the day, in the classes I'm in I could be reminded of Mary, as I touched the rosary. 

My dear sister opened up an Etsy shop with created jewelry pieces inspired by Our Lady. I was so happy and proud of her, her creativity, her love for Our Lady and inspiration to personally create these beautiful pieces. I ordered 2 of them. Our Lady is always close to us, never far away. 

Meeting Immaculee

 How do you prepare to meet your favorite author? How do you prepare to meet an amazing, holy, faith filled woman who inspired you all these years by reading her books? You feel like you know her. You don't really, but you know her story from what she's written, about surviving the Rwandan Genocide. 

I had no idea I would meet my favorite author, Immaculee Ilibagiza the author of my favorite book, Left to Tell. It seems that most Februarys I have read this amazing book. (Not sure why, maybe because Februarys can be a hard part of the year?)  And now, in February past weekend I attended a retreat, an event where she spoke. God's sense of humor. 

A year ago, I was reading it, at work while on my break. I even told a coworker about this book in passing. I've it read a number of times, and somehow it doesn't get old. I find something new or purposeful every time. I felt like it gave me hope and inspiration when I was reading it at my job last year since I too felt like I was in my own 'small bathroom'. The author during the genocide was hiding with a few other women for 3 months. There was no breakroom at my old workplace, no privacy, just a chair in the back. Thinking of her story gave me a dose of energy and inspiration when I felt uncomfortable in a small workplace and with a creepy coworker. 

There were other times where this book helped me in my faith, and all that she had to go through and endured, with losing nearly all her friends and family. The Pandemic and working alone in my classroom while helping students the best I could on zoom. It was a very solitary and lonely time, day in and day out. But reading Left to Tell lifted up my spirits and even inspired me a little with the French language since Ilibagiza knows French as one of her languages she speaks. 

I remember while working at a Preschool 6 years ago, I pulled out Left to Tell while the toddlers had their nap time. It was in February. I thought about Africa, particularly Rwanda and how different life would be and culturally while looking at a map in that classroom. It was inspiring to let my mind wander as that season and that job for me were rather challenging. 

I can remember first reding Left to Tell back in 2012. I heard about it from my sister, and I started reading it in February. I also remember reading it while waiting for my math class. I was so intrigued by her story and even wrote about it on my old and first blog. 

Upon seeing Immaculee in person for the first time, I was succumb with tears. Thinking about all the different times and seasons of my life reading her books and especially Left to Tell and telling others about it. The moment was hard to describe in words, but it was blessed. 

To Get Rid of and Gain

 I'm going to get rid of old mascara a friend gave me a couple years ago. I didn't like how it looked, easy to smear and droopy on the eye lashes. It feels worn out and dull. 

I'm doing away with social media this week. Less noise, distraction, even comparison. Openness, appreciation, inspiration and pray and peace are what follows. 

I'm going to get rid of discouragement and negative thinking. Really about anything. Hope, trust, faith, and positive thinking transforms. 

I'm practicing washing my face. Something I do often. But last night, I used a honey typed face wash that looks like and feels like honey, golden and sweet-smelling goodness. It feels restorative and relaxing in this dry air and winter season. 

I'm practicing gratitude, and cultivating awareness in simple, everyday things like...

Having a warm cup of white chocolate mocha this morning (just a little since its really strong), looking at beautiful blooming Fushia roses, my dad asking how I am and giving each other a hug this morning, principal evaluation going better than expected, and receiving compliments on my green skirt as well as the pretty turquoise earrings my sister made that I'm wearing today. Listening to an interesting lesson from a DARE officer, and the kids were engaged. Going to adoration after work so close by. These are blessings and God's love and mercy I can easily miss. 

The Road That leads To the Ocean

 Driving those roads brings back fond memories. It's relaxing, slow paced and the cool, sea air lightens the mood. Everything is lush and green. With the cooler weather or the clear view down the quaint streets with the sparkling ocean in the background, this feels nothing like the East Bay. 

When my mom and I visited Half Moon Bay a few weeks ago, we walked more than usual. I almost didn't realize how everything is super close to each other. Walking slows down time but also helps with sense of direction. We went the roundabout way from the lunch spot we ate it (our favorite every time) to Our Lady of the Pillar church. There were still Christmas decorations up- how lovely! It's always so peaceful and such a gift to be there and pray for a little while. We found out that there is an adoration chapel they have now, but we weren't sure where it was. 

Driving to the beach has those fun memories like the time we bought Dunkin' Donuts to bring home just because. They've closed now:( Or enjoyed an ice cream treat at the Baskin Robbins a few times, (one time even for my birthday.) Thrift shopping with sisters and my mom many times and finding quality enough items that don't constitute as junk. :)

And passing by that Peets coffee that always looked so inviting. It's where we stopped while I was with a young adult ministry for a beach day about 2 years ago and we also got sandwiches for lunch at New Leaf next door. It's where I had a somewhat tangled and disjointed conversation in Mandarin Chinese with a young adult guy while we were on a way with the young adults back home from the beach. The wildflowers and greenery all faded to the background as I tried to muster up my knowledge of spoken Chinese while riding in a minivan with other catholic young adults, though it was only him and I were who speaking this foreign language, while everyone else was mildly listening. 

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The wind in your face, the sand sticking to your feet like glue, the bird watching while they glide and dance over the sheer blue water, and people watching- watching them walk their dogs, take photos, play with their children, play volleyball, frisbee or soccer, or simply looking out at the shimmering waters and horizon like we do. Nothing beats time with my mom when we go to this special place. 

January Blur

 The week of Martin Luther King Jr. felt like a different kind of week. The holiday always helps and switching up routines. I went to a thrift store to return some items and found a book of MLK's speeches that I got. Honestly, I wasn't feeling too ready for this week to start again. Something about last week was exhausting, and at times mentally numbing, and it felt rather long. The weekends can go by fast, and then it's back to the grind. 

But this week turned out to not be like the weeks prior, at all. I had anticipated all the ways I could make it better and more enjoyable by doing fun and inspirational things on the side. However, as I looked over that list last night (since I forgot what I actually wrote down) I realized I had hardly done any of them! And I knew why. 

This week was far better, easier, lighter load mentally because I had more space and time to pray. I created more time for that.  I went to Mass in the mornings which I hadn't done for a while and quit social media. These were game changers, and my mood was lifted. I could think clearly. I easily had more inspiration and motivation after work that didn't feel like it took hours to get. 

So, my inspiration list wasn't too successful, but it still can be used as I would like to do some things on there such as creative endeavors like painting or simple things. Not to mention to continue reading and maybe finishing a book or two. I learned that making room for silence and God's graces are paramount to any list but defiantly assist with it. I hope next can be similar. 

Found this photo- MLK memorial, July 2023 with nieces and nephew

You're Going to Be Okay

 I found this quote from my notebook, taken from a book I read last year, the year before, and am now currently starting again. It has great reminders, hopeful inspiration and encouraging words. That's why I love it and gravitate towards it, as well as her other books. 

"So I want to lean in and whisper to you, 'Dear sister, trust that there is more than you can see. Trust that what you're doing makes a difference. Trust that one day you will get to turn the chair around and see fully.' And I think God smiles with us as we sit with him at the table of life too." -Holly Gerth; You're Going to be Okay

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I was thinking of my old classroom. The one that was small, had thin walls, had a sink, a view of the street and some trees, people's homes next door (but not of Mt. Diablo, which I had in my other classroom and loved the view). Everything about that environment was nothing like the one prior. 

I had a whiteboard behind my desk so I would take up the invitation to write on it- reminders, the day's date, a Russian word of the day for inspiration, etc. I had my own desk, a place for my things, and would come back to it throughout the day, and later a desktop computer that worked. 

My view wasn't of the street but of the classroom, of the other whiteboard that wasn't too large and the TV like projector screen. It was a plain classroom, so I decided to make posters to enhance the classroom look from dull to inviting and fun or at least interesting. I decorated these signs like 'You Matter' in inspiration from the coffee shop Journeys Coffee as well as relating to Physics which was the Special Ed class I was in. As well as science posters having to do with Chemistry, Biology and Physics with a saying on them, or a picture of a tree and quotes and names of scientists. 

I looked at these the whole year and it helped make the classroom look a little more vibrant. I didn't realize all the things I was doing and keeping everything together. From staying organized with all the to do's of students' tests and assignments, to helping facilitate the crazy, loud and usually uncontrolled Physics class, to giving lesson plan ideas to the teacher as a way for myself to stay motivated as well as inspired, to staying professional when everyone highly disliked the teacher and there was tons of gossip, division and animosity and just trying to stay positive and neutral about everything, to completing my school work and readings and assignments for my busy and full class load of my Masters program, to trying to stay healthy, active, inspired and spiritually enriched on the daily knowing very well I needed all the graces to put up with some hard students and an exhausting and soul sucking teacher, to put it bluntly.

I feel now I'm able to 'see more fully' like Gerth writes, especially after some time and now being at another school- the environment, the students, everything is totally different. I didn't realize what I would miss and how I would interpret all that I was doing, learning and even enjoying in the thick of it all. 

Michelle Duppong

 I never heard of her until I read a blurb about her in a church bulletin and read that her feast day was on Christmas. She died the same age I was viewing it. I felt compelled and inspired to look up and research more about her. 

Fast forward, almost a year later, and I'm excited to see a documentary about her. It was so interesting, engaging and touching to learn more about her life, her work as a FOCUS missionary and then as the Director of Faith Formation and even just her ordinary life and family and friends speaking about her. She seemed very normal, very cheerful. My mom and I both had tears at the end of the documentary. 

On Christmas Day this past year, I was sick and wasn't able to make it to Mass. I thought of Michelle and felt close to her- she was sick and in bed with cancer for almost a year and died on Christmas Day 2015. This small cross I felt I could connect with her.

 Looking back, I feel she chose me, (as the saying goes, you don't choose the Saint/Blessed etc. they choose you) and feeling inspired and encouraged by her faith, her mission, her service, her joy. Now she is a Servant of God, and on her way to becoming a saint! I want to remember to pray to her often. 

Pouring Forth

 I'm reminded of that time that I was invited to break away. Quite frankly, from everything that felt like it was sucking the life out of me. It truly was a feeling that I hadn't experienced in a while but was profound. Like when Jesus would get away early in the morning and find a quiet place and pray there by himself. Or when He would take someone away from the crowd, the noise, sharp opinions and distractions and heal them. 

That felt like me. I felt far away from the noise, distractions, and the sheer exhaustion of everyday working life, and could breathe fresh air, and see the city and town life down below, and with a large, open sky to speak to my restless heart. I unfortunately, forgot what it felt like to be in nature. 

I didn't realize that God would speak to me so effortlessly in little ways, as well as profound ways. Afterall, I was on a retreat for teens during their confirmation program. It was for them. But so many things hit home for me. For example, the loud, boisterous rainstorm that one night woke me up with the sensation of light piercing through my eyes and into the cabin, and the heavy wind that smacked against the windowpanes while the rain pattered continuously. I wasn't so much afraid, as I was inspired by scripture.

I was recalling the verse from Matthew 7:25 " And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock." I also felt like the rain signified so many graces coming forward and being poured down on the parched earth and also felt parched and needed God's graces. 

There was a band that weekend that helped with providing a prayerful atmosphere during adoration, Mass on Sunday as well as learning praise and worship songs throughout the retreat. Though they felt more 'Christian/Protestant' I actually liked them since they were simple and felt meaningful to me and couldn't get them out of my head so on the beautiful drive home, passing the wineries and grape vineyards, I sang those songs from the heart, as well as the rest of the week. I even played one or two of them while I was driving during the week or on my run. It helped savor the special spiritual time from that weekend. 

During adoration one evening, the teens had time to pray and also received and opened their letters from their parents that were a surprise for them. They slowly started to cry, as I'm sure it was so touching for them. I also was crying and had tears in my eyes since I felt so deprived of prayer, of being in front of Our Lord in the Eucharist and realized how much was on my heart and this time of silence and prayer I needed. I read the readings for Mass during this time, and they spoke to me with words coming out and phrases to reflect upon. I didn't expect to be so touched during this time, as well as the teens were (and most of them said that was their favorite part of the retreat). 

The last remaining hours, we were cleaning and packing up. The other girls' cabin found out that they had a mouse scurrying around their cabin, so they came into my cabin with my group of girls so the head person could try and get it out. I don't know if it ever was successful, as I heard him moving bunkbeds while trying to capture the rodent with no success. 

Although it's a tiny mouse, it is fast, sneaky and maybe even smart. It came to my mind that it's like our sins. Maybe one or two sins we think are actually harmless, not a big deal. Like this mouse, how it was small, and could easily hide in a hole in the walls or something, but clearly it was fast, and hard to catch even with all the furniture being arranged differently. In the end, vices aren't that innocent after all and can do more to our souls over time if we're not watchful. 

God spoke to me in little and profound ways on this retreat. I felt so spiritually enriched, renewed and joyful at the end. Tired, yes, but grateful I was able to experience it. 

Morning Thoughts

 This morning, I was thinking of that shirt. It brings back memories from New Year's 2015. My sister and I bought the same shirt, as we loved the gold detailed design at the neck, the cut-out sleeves (cold shoulder), and the quarter sleeves with the same pretty gold design drizzled around the end of the sleeves. The shirt was white, and somewhat see through, so a Cami or tank top was a must. 

I remember wearing this all the time in the new year, though it was definitely a summer shirt, that we found in December, I think while trying to find the perfect outfit for our New Year's Eve event. I remember wearing it under my Kumon sweater at work, and letting the sleeves showcase their gold hue and making a casual look twice as fancy. (And to my mind, somehow making the job a little more interesting.) 

I remember my sister wore this shirt while on her visit to El Salvador with her now husband, which was actually perfect for the humid and tropical weather.  This shirt brought about inspiration, especially entering the new year, and closing out a difficult fall for me as a new student at my university. Fashion always seemed to do that for me. A new piece of clothing here, a new piece of jewelry there, it could make a cloudy, dreary day brighten just what I decided to wear and conjure up. 

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This morning, I was also thinking about Januarys. How the first month of the year is always special, exciting, full with bated breath and new resolutions and goals, crisp as ever like a dewy, chilly morning or an early winter snow glued to Christmas trees. I'm remembering how grateful I am to not be in a brand-new job or looking for one. 

I know how it is to send job application after job application attached with resume and such, and clawing for interviews. Not to mention, the constant unknown, of what would pan out and email exchanges at your side, and the ticking of your bank account needing some more funds. On top of adjusting to a new routine, tasks, coworkers, expectations with the new year just underway and still feeling fresh and new. 

There is of course some excitement and anticipation with it, but in my experiences, both times were rather hard and came out to be pretty awful jobs for me. I'm really glad to be on the other side, yet learned some valuable lessons along the way that have enhanced my learning and growth.