Sunday, April 14, 2013
The Black (Note)Book
*written on Easter morning of '13*
A year ago, for Holy Week, I attended a 4-day silent retreat
at Karis. I only had a few minutes of conversation every day with my spiritual
adviser. Other than that, I spent hours resting, praying and having inner
monologues. Needless to say, those were the longest 4 days of my life.
For the most part, my thoughts flew by too fast I couldn’t
even catch up. A handful, I was able to hastily write down in my black notebook. I never dared open the notebook and reread what I have
written there- until today.
When people asked me, then, why I wanted to attend a
retreat, and a silent one, at that, I gave them a safe answer: I want a deeper
connection with God. And although that was true, there was a deeper WHY to it.
My heart was at a bad place that time. All my relationships
were intact,
except for the one I have with myself. I was beating myself up for being a
coward, for sticking to something that makes me miserable. I was lonely; I was
angry at myself for acting helpless when I could have easily changed things for
the better. On top of that, I was scared of the person I was becoming, simply
because I was letting a routine transform me.
What made things more difficult was me trying to hide it from
everyone else. I wanted to show a facade that was calm and unbothered. I never
wanted people to feel that there was something wrong; I was belittling my
problem. At one time, during prayer, I even said the same thing to God. I was
so mad I blurted words of frustration. I felt like God thinks my problem was
too small, that it was insignificant compared to others’, which might be a
matter of life and death. True, my problem lacked the urgency to justify my
helplessness but it was weighing me down, so much that it is completely
changing me into the kind of person I never wanted to be.
On the afternoon of Good Friday, I felt too tired I couldn’t
beg anymore. I couldn’t even pray. You know what’s in my heart- that was my
final prayer.
Looking back, I am in a much better place right now. Not
only because I was finally able to move on from something that almost changed
me for the worse, but because I know now what sustains me. I know now what is
important to me, what made me feel that way before, what made me suffer and why
I allowed it. The answers didn’t come instantly. When I went home from the
retreat, all I had was a certain calmness that was a product of my submission.
Whenever I looked back at my retreat days, I feel a little
silly for exhausting myself because of a problem that wasn’t really a problem
if you look at it. But after re-reading my black notebook, all the anxiety, the
despair, the pain, they all seemed real again. I knew I was in a terrible place
at that time. No words could ever express why I felt the way I did but I was definitely
broken. I couldn’t be thankful enough that, somehow, a higher power led me to Karis.
Rather than finding comfort and answers from my limited strength and wisdom, I
found my way to Him.
There were so many lessons I took away from that experience;
lessons that even go far beyond what I came there to pray for. During one
consultation with my spiritual adviser, he shared with me words that definitely
helped me out of desolation. He said, in more or less words:
“You are concerned
about your work. You don’t want to do it and yet you’re frustrated about not
being able to give your best. It’s because you care about what you create, even
at times when you do not find meaning in it. What more for God? He created you.
He loves you. He care about you so much that it is impossible for Him to
abandon you. He is always by your side. Trust Him.”
Those words rekindled my composure. I was able to let go of
my anxiety and trust in His bigger picture. The funny thing was, when I finally
started being diligent at work again, the opportunities came pouring. It was as
if God only wanted to teach me something. And when the lesson was learned, the
path was laid down in front of me so I can finally move on.
I celebrated Easter last year by embracing my struggles. I
emerged from the retreat feeling grateful, recharged and, most of all, hopeful.
I guess that is the true message of God’s resurrection. This life, when
entrusted to His great will, is, in John Bucan’s words, a perpetual series of
occasions for hope. Regardless of life’s ever-changing mood, there is one
constant companion we can all surrender our worries to.
This year I woke up to a hectic, definitely noisier Easter
morning. But within me, peace still reigns, and I have the Big Guy Upstairs to
thank for it.
# posted by Liana : 7:27 AM
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