Starting Over

There's so much more to this than just moving back home. It's different from moving back because you finished school and now are starting a career. It's a whole set of changes that have to happen and as much as I just want to curl in my bed and just let the world go by, I can't. Deep inside, I want the world to hold off and wait for me to just catch up. To get my footing and to stabilize. Right now it feels like everything is happening all at one time and I can't breathe. 

The key though is moving on. Not to just stop, but to take one step at a time. I'm grateful for those who just are letting me be. At the same time, I am grateful for those who are prodding me, too. A representation of the conflict that is twisting inside of me. 

I'm back in my area of "expertise": Agriculture. Being on this team has allowed me to heal in a way that I thought I couldn't get to. There's something about your hand being immersed in the soil. Helping things grow and watching things unfold with barely an input from you. There's an energy that is released in nature. Being able to touch the soil, to feel the sun, to cool in the shade and wind sets a process inside of me that is filling and instilling a joy that is slowly but surely fixing those places inside of me that I'm unable to reach. 

I'm not fully embedded in ministry or teaching, just touches here and there that allow me to experience and to be of service. It's different from years ago where I breathed, lived and slept ministry. I still get the tense fear when someone approaches me or if I see an expectation from them. Not as bad as three years ago. There's a detachment in it that I don't think I've fully experienced until now. 

I'm not afraid. That's the difference. I use to be afraid. 

People who met me years ago are shocked that I am afraid. It started years ago, when my dad died. A darkness that came over me, just seemed to come closer and closer outshining all the blessings around me. I couldn't feel. I couldn't grasp. I could only react. I could only respond. I wasn't really aware. All those years of ministry had filled me beyond my "love tank", I was empty, but the fumes of belief was still in the air and I was running only on that. I didn't really know. I just felt somehow that God's existence was there, but far beyond my reach. I could only observe through others. Their simple faith kept me somehow connected. 

When Michael was still in my womb every experience I had prior to Michael was somehow magnified. The attacks and struggles I had gone through re-surfaced and I felt a deep sense of fear. It wasn't like that before. The fear became greater when Michael's dad did not return to us. All of a sudden, I realized that I was alone. My sister, Norla, she was the one that manifested the deep anger I felt. I could only observe her reaction and feel what I should be feeling through her. The betrayal was something that I couldn't grasp. All I knew was that I couldn't let it destroy me.  I just had to believe. 

There was a time that I use to not be afraid. I had this faith that was unshaken. It wasn't from  me. It was a confidence in what God could do in me and in those around me. It settled in me and no matter what happened I was so connected to God that all the disgruntled, angry, critical, actions done to me where like arrows going through jello. I had learned to let it go. There was a fire that burned beyond my soul. It kept me going. It manifested a love that was beyond the physical but so physical. Each interaction, each activity, each accomplishment, each snag, each stumble produced a sense of fulfillment that made my heart pound just a little harder and allowed me to experience God in everything. 

I know this, but since the time that fear entered my life I haven't been able to reach it again. And yet, I'm not sure I'm supposed to reach that or re-live it. 

So today is the 39th day of the Christmas Season. Christmas ends its 40 days tomorrow, a day that the Church celebrates the Presentation of the Lord. Where Simeon prays, 

"Lord, now You let Your servant go in peace. Your word has been fulfilled. My own eyes have seen the salvation which You have prepared in the sight of every people. A light to reveal You to the nations and the glory of Your people Israel. Amen"

And thus because I have seen, I can only get up now and move on. One step at a time. To grasp this faith fulfilled in this day. To respond as He calls me to be the salt, to be the light. To be.

Lord, You call the least and You provide the grace to Be. I ask You to fill me, mold me, use me. In Jesus' Holy Name. Amen.

~allowing God to love me to a better me

Seafaring with Selap

I'm not sure how to start this, but for now, I'm just going to write and hopefully it'll just flow.

Seafaring; the last time I was on any ocean going vessel, was on a ship that was heading to Bohol from Manila for the CFC Singles for Christ Conference. Prior to that it was on a small boat for a praise and worship event for CFC Singles for Christ Guam hosted by Sonny and Nora Perez. A couple of times before that, I was in college. Once on a boat to Mindoro traveling from Batangas with the UPLB International students as we explored the wonders of Mindoro beaches. The other time was leaving the shores of Zambales to head to the three sister islands for a weekend stay on a private island.

This last memory was riding on the dinkiest one of them all. It was a banka (a small canoe) with side extensions (I don't know the terminologies, so this land person will be using land descriptions as much as it will irritate the likes of my new sea friends) and a motor the size of lawn mower engine. I actually think it was a lawn mower. What stood out for me on this little banka was how small it was compared to the vastness of the ocean we were going to cross. It reminded me of how fragile and alone we really are. I distinctly remember the smell of the ocean and the waves. I also remember how dark the water was. It was late in the afternoon when we left the shores, the islands were at the horizon. It was a 30 minute ride. I'm a big girl, so riding in a small banka was not an easy thing. I was afraid and excited at the same time, but mostly afraid.

I haven't been on any kind of boat since then. So I'm preparing myself mentally to sail on one made by our men. One day, not today and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. For this journey of Seafaring with Selap is not meant to stay on dry land.

I'm using the term Outer Micronesian Islands, to describe those from outside the Marianas chain that I'm from, specifically Guam. The Micronesian Islands are made up of smaller island groups: Palau, Yap, Chuuk, Pohnpei and the Marshalls. I think I named all the groups. Groups because each island group has their own set of main lagoons and smaller outer islands. Guam is only 32 miles long and 10 miles wide and it's the largest Micronesian Island. One of the smallest islands I know of is only 4 miles long and 2 miles wide.

My curiosity about seafaring actually began, selfishly. I was more concerned about a future collaboration with TASA. TASA is the acronym for the Traditions Affirming our Seafaring Ancestry. TASA also symbolically refers to the capstone on the Latte Stone. When Jose first told me about it, I had this understanding that it was quite appropriate for them to use that. I'll explain later. I wasn't really thinking about sailing on a canoe or even really learning about the islands seafaring traditions. I was just wanting to make a connection for a future program I wanted to develop called AKLI'E', but that's another story.

I first met Jose Martinez at a conference a year ago. Wow, I think it was exactly one year ago today. We were grouped together to develop a grant to practice writing grants. Jose, Joe, John, Sam and myself. I was the only female. As soon as I saw John and Sam, who I knew were from the Outer Micronesian Islands of Yap, I made moves to sit on the floor. I knew them from previous encounters in other outer Micronesian Island events.

Some may be wondering, why would she sit on the floor? Were there no chairs? The conference was held at the Westin and the chairs are definitely available and comfortable. First because its part of the Outer Micronesian Islands for the woman to sit in a mannerism that puts us physically below the heads of the men and even approach them with their our heads bowed and often walking in a semi squat. Something I learned from the Polowat girls I mentored during my Campus Ministry days. I would have put on a skirt too if I had one. I was wearing jeans. Some may think I was overdoing it, but it's something I accept and I do with joy. Second because I really like sitting on the floor and I often do no matter where I am to the shock of many people. Just a note, Sam or John,  did not impose the action on me. I did catch John's smile, though. I've known John since my childhood days. My dad introduced me to him at the Guam Main Postal Facility years ago, when I was learning how to mail things. It was a warm experience to come across him again after so many years.

Jose is one of the founders of TASA, who in collaboration with TASI put up a booth at the Guam Micronesian Island Fair this past June to display the canoes they built in an effort to help keep the traditions alive. Through him, I met Guelo (I forgot his legal name) and Nash (Ignacio Camacho) at the Guam Micronesian Island Fair this past June. There were others, too, but I had more interactions with these three men during the fair. Jose is this tall broad shouldered chuckling guy, who can blow a conch shell. Yup, I think I've met only two guys who actually did that in real life. Turns out TASA men can do it, too. Jose and I share a love for our Catholic Faith. Now, Guelo, most people have come across him wearing a sade' on a daily basis. He works at the ancient village model at Gun Beach and he shares his knowledge willingly to those who are interested. His hands are always busy carving. He fascinates me because of his knowledge of the medicinal value of the native plant species. This of course stems from my personal interests in plants (I studied horticulture at the University of the Philippines in Los Banos). Nash, on the other hand was a hospitable, smooth talking and charming seafarer. He has a full faced salt and pepper beard that captures the look of a sea captain I imagined reading Moby Dick in my younger days. His eyes twinkled when he saw something he liked. Totally relaxed in his element and excited about life in general. His joy was contagious. Interacting with him and watching him interact was life giving. I learned a lot just listening and observing them as they shared their knowledge and excitement with the people around them.

It was a video that I watched that captured the sailing of the Sakman called Saina from Guam to Rota and back in 2009 that caught my attention. Jose explained his experience of that trip. Their experience with the whales and being out on the ocean. When he explained the route they took I realized that unlike a modern day engined boat, they had to use the wind and the ocean to get them there and back, which meant that it wasn't a straight line route. I wondered how they could be out there in the event of a storm. Jose chuckled again and explained that you planned your trips so that you weren't out there in a storm. Obviously my common sense did not follow through when thinking of sea voyaging.  I was deeply aware of how much I really didn't know. It was becoming more and more apparent that I was not in my realm of knowledge.

It was interesting, but my mind was primarily focused on how to collaborate with this group to work with AKLI'E' and the impact going through this experience would have on the clients of AKLI'E'. So I wanted to learn mainly so I would know how to work effectively with them. Not necessarily to learn for my own personal understanding or enlightenment.

I started to learn that the galai'de' (still figuring out the spelling) that I knew of and most familiar with is the smallest of the canoes built by our people. I also learned that it was used inside the reef and didn't have a sail as erroneously depicted on the Guam Seal. The Sakman, is the largest, and built for long voyages. When Jose, showed me the Sakman, I couldn't get it around my head how people fit inside it. His answer to my query was met with laughter as he chuckled and said, "you don't sit in it, you sit on top of it." My mind went immediately to fear. How could you just stay on top? Long voyages means overnight and many hours if not days out on the ocean with no protection. My fear wouldn't let me comprehend why it was built this way.

And so my journey with Seafaring with Selap begins. It began because of my recent experience with him.

Yesterday, Jose invited me to a lesson being offered by TASA at House 1 located in Sagan Kottura Chamoru. Sandra Okada and Selap (Tony Pialug) were presenting. As I walked in, we were already 19 minutes late and Selap was going over the star chart. I wanted Michael to be right in their midst, which caused me to stand. I wasn't thinking because I was concerned about positioning Michael. But then I realized that I was still standing for an extended time. Selap is from the outer Micronesian Island of Satawal. Although he didn't say anything, I became uncomfortable because I recognized that I didn't physically lower myself below his head. In fact we were standing across each other at eye level. He kept his head down while at the same time I tried to figure out away to sit so as to be proper. Again, he didn't demand I meet that protocol, but I could tell that my standing was not comfortable for both of us.

He spoke quietly and you could tell he was aware of his pupils. At one point he left, not really saying anything. When he returned he had a small model canoe made from coconut leaves. He placed it in the middle of the star chart. It dawned on me that he recognized that we, his pupils, were not grasping the concepts. He also recognized that he had to change his method to meet our learning style. Michael being 8 years old amongst us adults, was not dismissed and overlooked. Nope, Selap adjusted his lesson and made it eye catching and allowed us to focus. By this time I had situated myself on a lounger that allowed me to see the star chart and be seated properly (again my imposing, not his). He began again his lesson and explained the star chart. I asked, "how are you able to use the stars when it changes positions through the night and year?" He smiles and patiently responds with, "the stars are always moving, but you use the star chart when the stars are just at the horizon. We don't use the star chart when it's high in the sky because then they'll be in the wrong position." I chuckled at myself, because that should have been obvious to me, but he patiently responded. He wanted me to understand. And I did. He began to explain the full use of the star chart. Mind you, this chart doesn't look anything like the star charts NASA looks at. Its simply made of shells with large shells alternating between 3 smaller shells. In a circle.

He reminded us that sometimes the stars are not clear in the direction you are going, but that's okay, you can look to the east, west and south of your direction and know that if those stars are aligned to the canoe the way it should be, then you are heading in the right direction. For some reason, I realized that concept had never dawned on me in all my years of breathing. I would have immediately thought, I'm going to wait for the sky to clear, until I can see where I am going. This is profoundly a deep spiritual understanding.

Using fully every resource surrounding you has always been a lesson I, myself as a teacher would tell my student. That lesson took on a major concretization as I sat being schooled again. He continued to explain that the stars were there, but also there is the swells of the ocean. He said the angle of the swells (He didn't use the word wave, it was swells) determined if you were also going in the right direction. You could tell, he said, by how the sakman responded to the swells. Whether the canoe rose with the swell or not. I can't explain with words how he described the sakman' s response to a swell hitting its side. His words elude me now, but I'll be sure to ask again.

During my college days in the Philippines, my Tito Eli Bardenas enhanced it with trips to the different parts of the Philippines. So my first experience on the banka, a very small canoe (dinky) that used a small engine made me feel like I was disconnected, mainly because I was relying on somebody else's knowledge to get me where I was going and the idea of this dinky engine getting us there, which I knew had limits. Fear dominated my experience and although the ocean's smell and the breeze was surrounding me, I know that I was more excited to see land. For me the ocean separated me from the land.

Selap made the connection between us and the ocean. Everything is connected. The water didn't separate us, it connected us. I, for once, felt a deep sense of awe. I could imagine the excitement one felt being on a sakman heading towards our destination and the pull of wind and the ocean to get us there. It began the fascination. His words were spoken in a manner that wasn't loud or overbearing. It was calm and assuring. There was a tone of excitement in it, a fullness as he recounted how to use this knowledge.

After Selap got up to do whatever it was the men were doing, I sat to watch a video that was made to explain the makings of a sakman. Sandra shared that the first master navigator to share his knowledge outside of the traditional family's passing it from generation to generation, realized that if he didn't share the knowledge that it would be gone forever was Selap Tony's dad, Mau Piailug. It was not an easy thing to do as the sacredness of the knowledge was held highly among the people. To think that this knowledge still existed in the Micronesian Islands in times where the modern ocean freights kept the islands connected is humbling and a blessing.

TASA, TASI and other groups of individuals are working to keep this knowledge alive. Selap is mentoring those who are interested. I have now become interested. He connected me to something deep inside. A sense of wonder and awe has settled in me. I was only in his presence for a few minutes of a full day of learning and in that few minutes he imparted an understanding that sadly takes today's teachers more time to make that impact. I want to learn. In this blog, I hope to capture that learning experience. Not just the technical side, but the full experience of learning from Selap.

Washing of the Feet

Washing of the Feet...of all the celebration the Catholic Church celebrates, this is the most difficult for me to participate in. I remember my first full conscious participation back in 1996. Watching then, Fr. Albert Sanchez, bent over washing the feet of the 12 men. Tears streamed down my face non-stop. I was grateful to be at the choir loft as it would have been difficult dealing with this in the presence of the full church. It was never about Jesus doing it, it was about his mandate to do as He does. How can I say I love Him and want to follow him, when this was an act I deeply felt revulsion for.

Interestingly, I remember clearly as a teen how I would tell my friends "I'd die for you." "I've got your back." "You can count on me." By God's grace I was never ever put in a position where I had to do it. So now as I experience my nth Holy Thursday Celebration with my son on my lap, I'm not as tearful, but it strikes my heart just as deeply.

The experiences of God's manifestations through His mercy and love in my life are overwhelmingly, especially when looked at after it happens. Does that make sense? Almost 20 years now of being aware of my creator and yet I fail to love unconditionally.

Joy

It began with a smile and a connection from the past that triggered it. When Joe and Marge Leon Guerrero, walked in my life, I was at point in my life that any request for help that had anything to do with me, in which I was a part of resulted in hives forming and an internal fight strikes. So I fought within me to stay, listen, be polite and not run and hide, but to firmly say "No, thank you." She had always been the gentle friend, the one who encouraged in the group, so of course I stayed and listened. It's just shy of 30 years ago that we met and so I woke this morning with a calm and a sense of hope, that I haven't felt in my personal walk with Jesus, in a long time. 


I forget how effective I am in reaching out to others as well as keeping them at bay. I forget how well I can convince myself that I'm okay, when in fact I'm not. I forget that being strong has nothing to do with not dealing with the pain. I forget who Jesus, really is in my life.

Yesterday, I served in a way that I disliked the most in every situation I'm in. In fact it's the key issue I have in my professional career and most especially in my current employment: to serve blindly and without control. Yesterday, I had no idea what to expect, where to go, what to do. The least amount of briefing was given and done in such a way that pretty much hacked away at my refined organizational skills. Asked what I thought of it? I couldn't respond. A part of me wanted to tear it to pieces and start over, but I didn't have the energy or the desire. So I kept quiet.
 
This was definitely a time, had the old DonaMila been here, it would have ignited a rage in me that would be difficult to contain and definitely would have burnt bridges with no hope of crossing the great divide that I would have dug myself, in order to keep them all on the other side. Why do I write this? I want to capture the vision of what Jesus taught me this past week. 

Today marks 1 week from the moment in time that I woke up with a conviction to not be afraid, that was last Saturday. A conviction fueled by God, not by me. I know, because I woke up with anxiousness last Saturday that spilled over the roof. My mind took off and every possible scenario of my life flooded and overtook me. It was overwhelming. Yet it was just the Saturday before that I stood before my community during the Couples for Christ Guam's 1st Annual Prayer Assembly that I shared how important community was and how it was important that we evangelize and share Jesus to other because the despair and depression I was feeling inside of me was difficult to fight on my own and we need each other to overcome it. Thus, although I was overwhelmed, the conviction in my heart was encompassing and would not be overcome.

Mind you, that as I write this I'm amazed at how God is working and how we can barely see fully the moment we are living, but He sees it all. As I reflect bak, I see how I tried hard to understand everything that I was going through and still going through, but I couldn't grasp it. Had I known, I probably would have run far away. For I wasn't ready to see and to know.

Yesterday, was the Annual Catholic Men's Conference that was being hosted by the Nuestra Señora De Las Aguas Parish's men's group called G.I.F.T. (Growing In Faith Together) in the village of Mongmong. Joe Leon Guerrero, husband of my high school batch mate, is a member of G.I.F.T. I had heard about it from Jose Martinez, who I met at a Grant Writing Workshop back in September 2014. 

Joe is the nephew of Auntie Fran Calvo, who has always been a part of my faith walk on Guam, actually exactly 20 years ago in June that I knocked on her door and like a hungry, wet and lost puppy, but extremely happy and excited one too that I found them.  So, I pretty much pushed my way into Couples for Christ Guam. I was a Singles For Christ Los Banos that just returned from studying at the University and I wanted to surround myself with prayerful people who loved to praise God. 

Marge introduced me to Joe, her husband, and he had this demeanor in him that played at my heart. It was the smile that my dad gives me when he has a surprise he knows that I would be ecstatic for, but knows me well enough to know that I would stifle the excitement and control myself so as not to look the fool and not show that my dad could trigger my joy and let him know he still could control me. Joe had that smile and at that time my internal reaction was 'fire, do not touch, keep distance safely 50 feet away'. My dad died in 2005. I think my joy died then too. 

Joe gave me that smile yesterday too. Actually he's been giving me that smile since we met and I seriously think it's only been 3 months since he and Marge walked in my life. Our conversations never stayed on the surface, it always sunk deeper and deeper. Sitting with Joe and Marge anywhere always ended up with Joe and I sharing deeply the movement of God in our lives. It was like two matches being lit, there was no way we could sit next to each other and not be lit by the light God put in us. This is where I think God made sure I was hooked.

It was because of Jose, that Joe pretty much put me in his sight. I had mentioned that I knew Joe and Marge to Jose during our workshop and vice versa. Somehow they had a conversation and not knowing much of either of them, since it was Marge that I was acquainted with in high school, that I was tapped. So politely I suggested and smiled and said, "sure," but still shaking my head and saying inside of me, "what am I getting myself into?" 

Since I was attending the CFC Christian Life Program as a handmaid, it afforded Joe, Marge and myself quality time to share our faith walk. It wasn't too long when Joe asked, actually thinking back. I don't think he asked. I think he told me that I would be helping at the Men's Conference. 

That's another thing, God knows I'm pretty good about being obedient when told by someone who has in them what my heart knew was love. Love seeped through Joe and Marge. 

But I am cautious and I was back peddling fast. I tried to keep our conversations at a minimum, but no matter what I did, it wasn't happening the way I wanted it to be, which was that I not be involved at all. I had effectively offered my help to Jose by simply connecting him to the parish leaders and encouraged everyone in a hands off kind of way to attend the Men's Conference. That's about as fas as I was willing to go, or so I told myself. I figured I had enough on my plate. 

Then two weeks before the conference a meeting occurs. I walked out of it thinking, "This is going to be a disaster because I walked out with exactly the same amount of information that I walked in with; nothing." God, in his infinite wisdom, places in a timely manner people and situations, who or what would be, in a focused mindset considered distractions to the mission, but for me, they were the mission. So I blindly followed and kept my concerns to myself and just allowed them to tell me nothing. 

Called to be a prayer warrior for several individuals, I moved through the prior week just responding to prayer requests. Then God, pulls the rug under me and increases the prayer time and the sacrifice too. Focused on that as the task at hand, I followed and let Him direct my actions and prioritize my day. I thought my primary mission was to be a prayer warrior, which is something I'm quite comfortable with and called often to do. Little did I know, how sly God was. Lovingly sly that is. Here I was praying for others, when in fact, God was cleansing me so that I would be ready with the right disposition to handle the new lesson He was going to teach me. He toned me spiritually, physically, mentally and emotionally. The Apostolic slaps were coming in the form of 2x4s. 

I'm His daughter. He knows me and His love for me is just so beyond what my mind could fathom. The scenarios he created are just amazing. 

So the two week long preparation begins with a phone call, some chats and a call to prayer. A meeting of sorts that ended with a night to spend with dear friends of faith that helped re-connect. One week prior started with an intimate Fiesta Mass and procession and an affirmation of my gifts. Putting it all in one package of pure supplication. The fire lit in the Chain for Life and a Mass and homily on point causing the burn to be truly felt. A final goodbye ended my night, but brought me to prayer the following morning. 

Three days of fasting ended with a look at virtues, all of course through God's power. I had no power, just the willingness to allow God to do His will. Then a night prepping for the Celebration led to a faith sharing so deep that the night disappeared and I all of sudden I only had 2 hours of sleep before I had to be at the grounds of Mongmong parish.

Yesterday I arrived at Mongmong church grounds just before 6. I thought everyone would be there sitting and drinking coffee when I walked in. I drove up and the one guy I didn't know was there. Learned later it was Tony Quimbao. This is how much I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing as a servant. I had to ask him where to park in an empty parking lot. This of course would never have been a question that would have passed through my lips because I would have known months before. That wasn't God's plan and Tony's response to me was simply anywhere along the side where the coconut trees where. I went to find a parking and I seriously stopped for a moment and questioned which coconut trees. 

I unloaded my stuff and the yummy milk bread I brought from Crown bakery was still nice and hot. I expected to walk into the smell of coffee, but nope, that didn't happen. Tony walks in and says to call Jose, to wake him up. Normally, my head would have exploded. I'm from Yigo and I'm a parishioner from Our Lady of Lourdes, I was volun-TOLD. Yet the only one that was here, was Tony and now me. Tony, matter of factly shows me Jose's number and says call and tell him Tony Quimbao said to call you. That's how I met Tony. I responded to Tony with, "is it okay to give me his number?" I'm old school, if the person didn't give you the number, don't get the number, but Tony was adamant. So I called. Here I am calling at 6 AM and I am totally uncomfortable, but I'm being obedient, which says a lot. I made the coffee to distract myself from feeling uncomfortable. Tony instructs me where the toilet tissue and the garbage bags were. I look at him with confusion and he just smiles and says, "the bathrooms." 

So I begin my service with making coffee and getting the bathrooms ready for the Men's Conference and suddenly there are people around and I'm totally uncomfortable. I have no idea what is expected of me. It's not clearly written. Ms. Rosa Santos walks in and immediately says, "Oh that coffee smells so good." I sigh with relief because I can't smell it and I haven't made coffee in a 42 cup percolator in years. I had to read the instructions and make the calculations and figure out how to turn it on. Coffee making is quite complicated. A good coffee maker never follows the instructions on the side of the container. So her words were a great comfort to me. Interesting how something so trivial could be so important.

Busy, busy, busy, busy and I realize it has begun, but we didn't gather as a group to pray. I was terrified now. Silly me, I had been praying since I woke up and the whole week. In fact I recited the Sorrowful and Luminous Mysteries as I drove here on only two hours of sleep. So I sought Jose out and I asked if we could pray together. He seemed so distracted and concerned, but I didn't want him to see the panic in my eyes, so I didn't really look at him. I schooled my face into a "happy" look and waited. Next thing I know the G.I.F.T. were praying and I wasn't in the group. I felt lost, but the busyness was taking over and greeting the sisters and other volunteers, welcoming the participants, putting things where they needed to go and striving to listen for what's the next instructions. 

Then I spotted Zion and I grabbed him and said, "follow me."  I could do that because Zion was Youth for Christ and I knew that we could pray together, so we headed to the conference room and walked away from the busyness. Walked in and my heart leaped for joy because Uncle Greg Calvo was there and I asked him if he could pray with us. Of course, he not just only leads the prayer, he does what all men should do, lead us into prayer and it was a SUPER WOW moment. Praising God and claiming the space, the speakers, the participants, the servants and the families for God. Praying in tongues has always been a prayer form I treasure. So we prayed and he sent us out to serve. As we walked out I asked Zion, 'Do you pray in tongues?' and he said, 'yes'. Okay then let's walk the compound and just pray in tongues. So we began and we walked the whole parish grounds and it was empowering and fulfilling. Love flowed.

I still had no idea what to do. I didn't even know if I was being an effective servant. As I did little tasks here and there and just checked to see if there was anything else when Ms. Rosa asks, "could you take pictures?" and sends me towards Jose to I assumed I should follow. I asked do you have a camera and he shows me a tablet of some sort and I said, "I should have brought my camera." and thought I should have told someone more skilled than I to take pictures. So I took pictures, checked the coffee (but I was moved out of that service by the other women who took over it), checked the bathrooms (again moved out of that service by the other women who took over it), checked the water bottles (again moved out of that service by the other women who took over it). So I went to check Uncle Greg and helped set up for his talk and found out answers he needed and just allowed myself to be filled by his presence. Then I went to take pictures.

Talked with the men and cajoled and harassed my Yigo brothers to not hang with each other but to get to know the other participants. Smiled at those that seemed alone and tried to challenge the shy one's to get out of their corner. At the same time, realizing how genuinely happy I felt and how much I really loved these men and wanted them to know how much they are loved. I'm good at making a spectacle of myself and just being crazy and of course the brothers who knew me just let me be, if not encouraged me to be even more of a spectacle. I'm entertainment. As for the other men I just met, I'll probably here it later, of how crazy I am. Good thing I already know and trust at least God enough to know that.

Still checked on the bathroom, posted the pics, chatted with everyone and hid every now and then in a quiet room and prayed. 

At the end of the day, my service ended with confession, the Eucharist and simple good byes. It was awesome. I still have no idea what my tasks were or even if I had done anything that they expected me to do. My mind is blown. God of mercy and love. He loves me where I am at and loves me to a better me. I served yesterday with zero knowledge. I served so that our men would be given the opportunity to fill up. What a gift it was for me. You see the greatest fear for me,  is not knowing, because knowing helps me control the situations around me, or so I think. He taught me that I can trust, I can move, I can serve, I can do without having to really know. He has me in the palm of His hands. What a gift!

Abraham... humanity... stupidity

Abraham...Reading an hour worth of Abraham and I am just amazed at the level of humanity he had. Humanity at this point is my diplomatice way of saying "stupid".  Twice he presented his wife as his sister, mainly because he was afraid to be killed. Yet when God told him to get up and go, he got up and go. When God told him to sacrifice his son, he did it. How I wish that for every act of obedience done, God could just remove an ounce of stupidity and blindness. Still the idea can be easily lost. What do I mean? God created us all perfectly and yet through our own eyes we fail to see the perfection that the other is. So here I am, although stupidity drives me up the wall, I am faced with my own stupidity. Granted it's not as stupid as the stupidity of others, still it's stupid. The grace is that in identifying the stupidity that I do, I am able to be present to the other. No expectations. Simply said "I am a sinner. I am a child of God."

It's Beginning

I guess I'm going to start. Several people have stated that I should start blogging. This feels entirely different from just writing on facebook. I deliberate a lot. It's a constant struggle to try to be good, more than just good, but to strive for holiness. I'm a Roman Catholic. I am an islander. I am a mom. I am striving to share with my son, God. So the story will continue...