I have been in Iloilo, in my new job, for a couple of weeks now. And I AM excited about learning and doing something new. I AM eager to make new friends. I AM ready to try out a new life. But every night, at the strike of 6, I look up from my cubicle and find the other people from work rushing about, smiles on their faces knowing they’d be home soon to their families or to their friends for gimmicks. And me...well, I’d try to study more or get some work done, maybe ‘til 8 pm or later. Then I’d head to an empty, lifeless room.
Everybody says, “Sa umpisa lang yan!” I’m taking their word for it and assuring myself that it is. But nobody ever says how long “umpisa” is. Does “umpisa” last for 2 weeks? 4? 6 months? A year? Because I can’t wait for “umpisa” to be over and I’ll be counting the days ‘til then.
Don’t get me wrong . . . it has been fun and different. People are nice. Work has been occupying most of my waking time. And I’ve been an “uto-uto”, accepting hosting gigs here and there hehehe. But nights and weekends can be bad.
I was early to church this weekend for the Sunday Mass. I wasn’t sure of the Mass schedule so I thought I’d come early just in case Google was mistaken. Turns out, Google was spot on again. As I sat waiting for the Mass to begin, people in droves came in. These droves were either families or ‘kadas and I couldn’t help but feel alone and lonely. And grateful though as I am, try as I might to feel joyful and be in high spirits, I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t. I put on a friendly smile I did not feel. And I had to admit – upbeat and bubbly though I try to be, I am a broken spirit.
But my Father, being my Father, wouldn’t get me on that path for long. There, in the middle of the Mass, I found myself staring at the big and strong and defeated and rejected Jesus that was His Son crucified. His death IS the reason – the cause - for the celebration that IS the Holy Mass. Yes, WE CELEBRATE HIS SUFFERING AND DEATH! Because His death gave birth to our new life.
And so will I celebrate my broken spirit. So will I celebrate my weakness. So will I rejoice amidst this brokenness. For it is when I am weak that He is strong. I never really understood that line from a song – “let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich...” now, I guess, I know. It is now, when I am broken - when I have nothing and no one - that I feel His presence, His provision, His strength.
I WILL celebrate! My brokenness, my loneliness, my lack. Because I trust that this will give birth to something (or maybe someone wink wink) wonderful of a blessing!
In filling out personal forms, I write “S” under social status, meaning “Single”. Should I fill out such forms any day soon though, “S” would now mean an entirely different thing for me...”S” for Separated. Yes, I am separated...from my family, from my friends, from everyone and everything I love and know.
I have been in Iloilo, in my new job, for a couple of weeks now. And I AM excited about learning and doing something new. I AM eager to make new friends. I AM ready to try out a new life. But every night, at the strike of 6, I look up from my cubicle and find the other people from work rushing about, smiles on their faces knowing they’d be home soon to their families or to their friends for gimmicks. And me...well, I’d try to study more or get some work done, maybe ‘til 8 pm or later. Then I’d head to an empty, lifeless room.
Everybody says, “Sa umpisa lang yan!” I’m taking their word for it and assuring myself that it is. But nobody ever says how long “umpisa” is. Does “umpisa” last for 2 weeks? 4? 6 months? A year? Because I can’t wait for “umpisa” to be over and I’ll be counting the days ‘til then.
Don’t get me wrong . . . it has been fun and different. People are nice. Work has been occupying most of my waking time. And I’ve been an “uto-uto”, accepting hosting/singing/dancing gigs here and there hehehe. But nights and weekends can be bad.
I was early to church one weekend for the Sunday Mass. I wasn’t sure of the Mass schedule so I thought I’d come early just in case Google was mistaken. Turns out, Google was spot on again. As I sat waiting for the Mass to begin, people in droves came in. These droves were either families or ‘kadas and I couldn’t help but feel alone and lonely. And grateful though as I am, try as I might to feel joyful and be in high spirits, I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t. I put on a friendly smile I did not feel. And I had to admit – upbeat and bubbly though I try to be, I have the beginnings of a broken spirit.
But my Father, being my Father, wouldn’t get me on that path for long. There, in the middle of the Mass, big and strong and beaten and rejected was His Son, crucified. His death IS the reason – the cause - for the celebration that is the Holy Mass. WE CELEBRATE HIS SUFFERING AND DEATH! And I remember Bo Sanchez saying we celebrate Jesus’ death – the greatest tragedy - because from this came the greatest blessing, the greatest victory.
And so will I celebrate my broken spirit! So will I celebrate my weakness. So will I rejoice amidst this brokenness. For it is when I am weak that He is strong. I never really understood that line from a song – “let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich...” now, I guess, I know. It is now, when I am broken, when I have nothing and no one, that I feel His presence, His provision, His strength. He HAS time and again proven this...I just need reminding.
I WILL celebrate! My brokenness, my aloneness, my lack. Because I trust that from this will come something (or maybe someone wink wink) wonderful of a blessing!
