Filling the Great Needs: What am I Called to Do?

I decided to take a break outside the house for a bit and breathe for once. I took some time to relax and reorient my thought on the happenings from the past several months.

I happened to be finishing up on a military chaplaincy discernment retreat when I read that my state would be undergoing a strict stay-at-home order due to the outbreak of COVID-19. A couple of months later, George Floyd was murdered, triggering a sociopolitical powder-keg which had been decades (arguably centuries) in the build-up. Coupled with this was a series of disappearances and murders within the ranks of the Army I loved with my whole heart.

So much brokenness in our country right now. This new decade has indeed ushered in a new chapter in our society: an era of mistrust, violence, and many unanswered questions. Many of my friends, family, and peers are devastated and burnt out by surrounding tensions. I've listened to some of these conversations, and I'm personally afraid of being on the "wrong side" of history.

Then, I remember my time at St. Patrick's Seminary during the retreat. Looking through the notes I took during those talks, I find a note I wrote down about "filling the great need." Now, I know this likely pointed to filling the need for military chaplains, but I think today's situations bring this bullet point to a much deeper meaning and calling.

Much of my prayer time was spent asking God for Him to do something. Unfortunately, this mentality often places God in the role of a holy vending machine which automatically grants us wishes if we say enough Our Fathers and Hail Marys within a particular period of time. Prayer is not magic that demands that God conform to us; it is an exercise which challenges us to manifest the will of God on our part. In other words, we ask God to on how we can answer the "great need" in our daily lives, because "faith without works is dead" (James 2:26).

I currently am on track to commission as an Army Officer as well as to be licensed as an Illinois teacher (by the way, the statements in my blog are by no means official statements or endorsement from the Department of Defense). In light of all the brokenness in America today, I hope I can help fill the "great needs" in the lives of my future students as well as the soldiers I may be leading. I know I can't fix everything, but I can sure as hell plant some seeds. I just hope things do change for the better after this subsides.

"You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. This is how prayer works." --Pope Francis

 Memory Eternal:
George Floyd
SPC Vanessa Guillen
SPC Enrique Roman-Martinez
Breonna Taylor
PFC Gregory Wedel-Morales

Lord, have mercy on everyone lost and broken in these tragedies.

My Own Place, My Own Pace

Well, another semester begins. Having technically been a student at my university since 2013, it almost feels routine. The anxiety and the excitement that used to come with every year of undergrad is slowly withering away as I do my degree plan at my own pace.

Suddenly, I don't feel an urge to graduate "on time". There's really no one that I'm looking forward to graduating with (to all my friends and colleagues reading this, I mean no offense). I've walked the stage before, and it seems all good and done from that point onward. After getting my bachelor's degree, it's basically been a free-fall through my goals and career aspirations.

It's been a rough transition, though. In my humble, little free-fall, I crashed into several branches and other obstacles. I entered graduate school with my old undergrad mentality of finishing the degree within the societal expectation of two years. Unfortunately, my rush led to one of the worst burnouts I experienced in my academic life. I wound up seeing my old family psychiatrist for some input and advice.

It turned out that I let myself conform to the inhuman machinery of societal pressure:

Don't you dare slow down or fall out.

Finish within the track that's posted on the degree plan.

No one wants the stragglers.

When I let those voices get to my head, I unfortunately paid the price with regard to self-care and sleep. A lot raced through my head, way more than it should have been. By the end of the year, I was mentally unfit to continue on the rush track.

I have to personally give my utmost gratitude to my psychiatrist and friend for waking me up to the reality of my situation. Truth is, I have a unique story that shouldn't be confined to mere societal expectations of a graduate student's track. I run at my own pace, and I fall where I will. A graduation year is but a number, but self-care is priceless. Who cares if it takes me an additional year or two? I have my own story to write, and my chapters can be as long as I want them to be.

Human growth is not a race, and it shouldn't be. The only person you need to worry about surpassing is yourself. Be better than your yesterday, and the results will come at a natural time for you and no one else.

Cultivating Personal Vocabulary

A friend of mine invited me via text to an event called the Chicago Language Cafe. At a bar which wasn't too far of a drive from my place, there were several tables at which I could practice and brush up on the languages I learned in school. Needless to say, that was a very enjoyable refresher.

My first stop was the Arabic table, marked by an Egyptian flag (Luckily, it wasn't Egyptian dialect only; I would have been destroyed trying to pick up on that.). A couple of native speakers at that table helped me get settled and refreshed me on a lot of vocabulary and grammar which I hadn't utilized in about four years. I had once been actively fluent during my Arabic courses back at UIC, but I let myself go rusty once I finished the language requirements for my degree. However, once I took hold again of my basics, I was able to maintain a decent conversation for a hot minute.

As the conversation flowed, I became more expressive and my chemistry with the others became more dynamic. I got more comfortable and confident speaking as the native speakers coached me. After I came back home, I ended my day feeling affirmed and motivated to develop my language skills more at events like that.

I think there's deeper takeaways from this event than simple language refreshers. It taught me never to be afraid to seek additional coaching at something you're not confident in; there's no shame in asking questions. The best way to practice something is to actually do it, applying outside guidance as needed.

But the most profound lesson for me is that speaking to someone in their language helps them to get to know you better. And by language, I don't simply mean foreign languages; I include body language, personal background, environment, and culture. There are various ways in which people express and understand ideas, and the way that one expresses themselves might not be as easily understood by another. Sometimes, we need to step out of our shoes and affirm how the other experiences things. In the process, we add a little more words to our social vocabulary and our overall human experience matures; we become more flexible in our communication and thus more open to what other people have to say.

I'll close off this post with some questions to reflect on:

• What "languages" do you speak? In other words, what defines how you see things?
• How have you differed from others in experiencing similar things?
• What sorts of "social vocabulary" do you think you'd need to pick up to better understand who's around you?

Pursuit of a Dream, Pursuit of a Vocation

I drove home to the sight of emergency lights just down the street from my house this evening. There’s something about sights like this that often make me reflect on the state of the community around me. Of course, living in a city like Chicago, stuff like this is more or less commonplace.

I wonder what sort of situation happened there and who was involved in cases like this. At the same time, I think about what sort of conditions led to this moment. Being the over-analyst that I am sometimes, I can’t help but feel an urge to figure out and do something to better such conditions.

I guess it’s that inner urge to “make a difference”—as corny as it sounds nowadays—that drove me to pursue studies in education. I’d hope it would be the little I could at least contribute to the mess around me. Even as I majored in regular history for my undergraduate studies, I wondered what impact I could make with whatever career I pursued. At this point, I was aware of struggles that some of my fellow students were going through as well as other incidents back home in my neighborhood.

A friend and I helped repaint one of the buildings at a Catholic parish in Jamaica. Back when I had a flowing mane.

I was fortunate to have a lot of opportunities to serve those in need during my undergraduate years at UIC. At the St. John Paul II Newman Center--as it is called right now ;)--I volunteered for a few mission trips to places such as Jamaica and Appalachia, and I participated in a few service projects back home in the city. I thoroughly enjoyed these moments and the people I served, but after finishing my service trips, I longed to do more. I wanted to do service that was long-term, not just a day or two weeks. I now wanted to develop myself more in service and pursue a career in which I could help others and build up my community.

Today, I'm getting ready to begin my master's program this fall. I have committed to getting my degree and teacher's license, knowing that I will be preparing myself to serve today's generation of youth and giving them what they need to take on life and the world ahead of them. I now feel like I've discovered at least part of my vocation, and I'm both nervous and excited to see what God will have in store for me next.

A Much-Owed Update

Yep, this blog's still alive.

On a more serious note, I duly apologize for not having written in months. Unfortunately, school and work dominated much of my Lent and Pascha/Easter, leaving me little to no time to write. With the conclusion of my second online semester, though, I'm taking the opportunity I have to provide content on this blog.

A lot has happened since last post. I finally got accepted into the master's in teaching program at UIC, and I am also in the process of getting into the ROTC program at that school. I'm very much excited to start yet another chapter in my life and finally achieve my goals to become a high school teacher and an Army officer. In the meantime, I'm just about halfway through with my current online certification with George Mason University, and I will soon get ready to start my internship with the Smithsonian Institute this fall!

I had a wonderful Lent, Holy Week, and Pascha this year. Aside from at least one thing breaking per day in the church during Holy Week (and me almost tripping and setting myself on fire on Good Friday), I had a great time serving and praying at all the services. I'm currently in the process of seeking a spiritual director to help me discern my vocation, which I will hopefully delve into later on.

It's a bit of a short update, but I promise I have a lot of ideas developed during my little hiatus. Be sure to follow me on Instagram and Facebook for updates! Thanks for stopping by!

It's That Time of Year Again!

For many of my Roman Catholic readers, Lent is just around the corner; whether you're feasting on pączki or king cake (depending on whether you're a Northerner or Southerner, respectively), the time of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving starts on Ash Wednesday. As for us Melkite Catholics--as well as all Eastern Catholics and Eastern/Oriental Orthodox--Lent's started early or later (depending on whether you're on the Julian or Gregorian calendar).

Sweets and calendars aside, you've probably thought about what you're giving up for Lent. Some of you may have decided to keep a small simple fast, such as candy or fast food. Others may have decided to go all out monastic this year and go vegan for the next 40-50 days. Still others may have given up habits, such as smartphone usage, internet browsing, or swearing. Whatever your fast is, I wish you the best and keep you in my prayers:

"Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him." --Romans 14:3

Everyone has their own individual journey to go through during Lent. In anticipation of the rebirth of our lives on the feast of Pascha/Easter, we journey together with Jesus in the wilderness, facing temptations to break our fast as well as self-reflections of our falls and shortcomings. Yes, we acknowledge that we are sinners from dust and to dust we shall return, but we are called to rise from the ashes as a new creation, stronger and better than our yesterday.

Wherever you are in life, use Lent as an opportunity for growth. Whether you're at a spiritual high or dry time, we are always called to grow and discern in our life in Christ and His Church.

As an added bonus to this post, I will keep you posted on almsgiving opportunities that you can give to for this Lenten season. Here's the first one.

St. William School Class of 2018 Graduation Fund!

As a 2009 alumni of St. William Catholic School, I'm very proud of how my faith foundation was laid out. My faith journey so far was made possible by my religious education at St. William, and I'm more than willing to support its students as they go out to the next chapters in their lives. This year's 8th grade class, the Class of 2018, is struggling to fund their graduation as well as the school's operation itself. Please take some time to give or at least share this fundraiser; it would personally mean much to me to keep my old school running. God bless y'all!

The Real Next Steps

Sitting alone in my house, I decide to let myself rest for the remainder of my day after having completed some needed chores over the weekend. I gave my old iPod a charge and listened to some good old worship music which I hadn't heard in months.

Though I do have a preference for traditional Sunday Masses and Divine Liturgies, I like a good Hillsong United, United Pursuit, Matt Maher, etc., on my playlist. When I'm not in the church, I like to reflect and meditated on the go by playing Christian music on my playlist. There's something about this music that soothes my soul and reassures my heart.

One of the songs I listened to was Matt Maher's "A Future Not My Own". It's a fairly recent release from this Catholic artist, and the album overall (Saints and Sinners) is great.

Throughout my life, I've always felt some degree of incompleteness. Even though I manage to resolve one issue, a few more show up, causing more self-questioning and sometimes even frustration. I always felt like I was running in circles whenever I thought about the next step I had to take in life, thinking that I wasn't really making any positive progress. But, after having listened to this a couple of times, I see that how I saw this situation was not quite how God was seeing me. Looking back, wherever I found initial frustration, I realized that was God redirecting me according to His plans, not mine.

There's a saying I've seen circulate in a few homilies and Instagram posts that goes, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." In previous years, I thought I had everything figured out for myself until I found a turning point that changed my outlook on how I conducted myself in life and faith. I didn't know from the start that I was going to be part of CFC-YFL, much less SFL. I didn't know from the start that I was going to join the Army. I didn't know from the start that I wanted to pursue a teaching degree.

Overall, whatever outlook and plan I started off with, it's not what I'm thinking of today. It might change or not change tomorrow, but I'm starting to put a little more trust in God's plan for me (an issue I still need working on). I know He's busy shaping me and directing me to where He knows I can better myself in how I practice my life and my faith.

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." --Jeremiah 29:11

At Least One More Before 2017 Ends!

Good evening readership! A thousand apologies for the holdup since last month. Unfortunately, work and school took over for the second half of 2017, and I couldn't update any content on this blog, subsequently.

I owe y'all another big update. I've recently finished my first online semester with George Mason University, and that frees up time to write more in spite of what little time I have left until 2018 starts (along with the next class I have to take in the spring semester). In addition, I've successfully uploaded my application for graduate school; please keep me in your prayers for that.

I've got a ton of new adventures coming up next year, by the way...

On the last week of January, I'll be going on a trip to the Philippines to visit family. It'll be the shortest time I'll be spending in my island home due to work, but I'll be sure to make the most of it! As an added bonus, my penny-pinching self decided to take the cheapest flight home, resulting in the 15-hour, home-bound layover in Seoul; that might make for an interesting blog post.

Currently in development is a trip to Pittsburgh. I'll be visiting the Byzantine Catholic Seminary there for a personal tour/retreat there. More to follow...

Short as it is, that's all I've been up to so far. I'll be rolling out more writing sooner than you think! See ya!

Thank You, Chester.

I was driving back home, with my phone hooked via AUX cord, and this song started playing:

I haven't delved deep enough into Linkin Park's music enough to consider myself a fan, but, in light of Chester Bennington's passing (as late as this post may be), I wanted to share how this particular song brought closure to one of the darkest chapters in my life.

Waiting for the end to come
Wishing I had strength to stand
This is not what I had planned
It's out of my control

A year prior to the release of Linkin Park's A Thousand Suns (the album in which this song is found), I was facing multiple struggles in my first semester of high school. I couldn't maintain consistency in my studies, and I was struggling to make passing grades in a couple of my classes. To make matters worse, I let myself become the victim of bullying and harassment; I was making an idiotic spectacle of myself in front of my peers, no matter how many times I tried to stand up for myself. It was only the first semester of my freshman year, and I was already being caught up in the storm of high school drama.

What was left when that fire was gone?
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong
All caught up in the eye of the storm
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on
And I don't even know what kind of things I said
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead

The breaking point came towards the end of that semester. I had been chatting with a classmate on Facebook regarding one of the students who had been bullying me, but misunderstandings led to argument, and it escalated to the point where I, in a fit of uncontrolled rage, sent online threats to peers who I suspected of sympathizing with the bullies. At that point, I felt like the world was falling apart and collapsing on me, and that decision threw me into confusion and self-doubt. I regretted my decision and deleted the filth I had posted up, but the deed had been done.

Soon after, the incident had been reported to the school, and I was subsequently withdrawn from the student roll, a de facto expulsion. The story spread to the other schools in the area; I had to move to a new district, as my family feared backlash from students who heard about this. In addition, I had to be placed in psych rehab for about a month before I was considered fit to go back to school.

I was completely shattered by what I had done, mentally and spiritually. I quietly contemplated suicide while I languished in a sea of regret and helplessness. I didn't see any reason to keep going in life; I felt forever marked by this sin I had committed.

So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin
The hardest part of ending is starting again

Thank God for a wonderful family I was born into. My parents, in spite of the gravity of the situation, never gave up on me. They worked their butts off finding a new school for me and constantly kept me in their prayers, taking me to see Jesus Himself in the Adoration chapel at St. Catherine's in Glenview. Whatever friends I had left after the incident encouraged me to move on, maintaining my resolve to reform and strengthen myself.


Of all the regret and despair that had flooded my mind during my freshman year, I still had some residue of in spite of successfully finding a new environment to thrive in. "What if it happens again next year? What would I do then?" I still had more questions even after that issue had been resolved (on the surface, at least).

It was then that I stumbled onto this song while I was watching a couple of music videos on TV. The message from Waiting For The End struck deep into my heart. I wasn't alone in struggles such as what I went through. There is hope even in the deepest pitfalls of life. Life in general will be hard and trying, but you can push through, with the added bonus of a support group.

It's been almost eight years since that life event, and I still feel the effects, though in a different light. Though I had been broken down to the core, I found an opportunity to grow and learn from my mistakes. I have a more positive outlook on life; I carry my crosses, but I know it doesn't end on Calvary. Am I still struggling? Of course I am, and life will drag on with such, but at least I know I'm not alone and that I can always reach out for even the tiniest spark of hope.

For those of you who may be struggling right now, I hope this little piece of mine helps, shoddy as it is. If you or someone you know may be contemplating taking your own life, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255; that one call could turn the tide of your life.

To conclude this post: Thank you, Chester. Your music saved this life and countless others; may your work continue to impact lives around the world.

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Persons of Interest! #5: Father Vincent Capodanno, USN (1929-1967)

Work and school have settled in this month, and I have just arrived back home after a long three-week training with my unit. In spite of these new additions to my schedule, I am still determined to post at least a few things per month.

It has been a while since my last Persons of Interest! entry. I'm changing things up a bit for this series by introducing someone who I have not personally known, yet has made a big impact on my vocational discernment.

 

Last night, I watched a wonderful documentary on the life of this priest on EWTN, "Called and Chosen". Fr. Capodanno was born into a family strong in the Catholic faith. Vin, as he was affectionately known at home, discerned early on in this life that he wanted to be a priest and serve as a missionary. He was told he didn't have to do all of that and that he could serve the Church back home, but his heart pulled strongly towards bringing Christ to those who were less than able to come to Him.

After completing his first mission with the Maryknoll Fathers, Father Capodanno learned of the outbreak of the Vietnam War. Knowing in his heart that American forces needed the presence of God in this new conflict, he petitioned his superiors for permission to join the military as a chaplain. Again, many told him he didn't have to go, but he longed to serve those who were stationed afar. He commissioned as an officer in the United States Navy and was eventually assigned to one of the Marine units fighting in Vietnam. Many Marines found solace in the presence of Fr. Capodanno, who often made it to the front lines with them, and he became a beloved figure among those he served. For his constant presence in the lives of these Marines, from serving Mass and hearing confessions to going on patrols, he earned the nickname of the "Grunt Padre".

On September 4, 1967, Marines found themselves pinned down by North Vietnamese forces during Operation Swift. Fr. Capodanno's unit was sent to where the fighting was thickest, and Fr. Capodanno, at the last minute, boarded the last helicopter headed to the hotspot. Once more, he was told he didn't have to go, but he knew many men would be needing comfort in the turmoil of war.

The priest, upon his arrival, rushed to aid the fallen. He comforted the wounded and the despairing; he gave last rites to the fallen; he helped drag people to safety; he did everything he could to convey the presence of Christ in a place where it seemed otherwise. However, in an attempt to rescue a wounded Navy Corpsman (medic), Fr. Capodanno was gunned down. For his courage and selfless service to his Marines, Fr. Vincent Capodanno was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, the highest military award granted by the United States. His cause for canonization as a Saint in the Catholic Church has been opened as well, and many pray for the Grunt Padre's intercession to this day. His name is etched on the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, D.C.

With the 50th anniversary of his death coming on Monday, I find Fr. Capodanno's story to be inspiring for those discerning life in mission. Many will say we do not need to go so far to make such an impact. Perhaps that may be true in some cases, but Fr. Capodanno provides a beautiful example of self-sacrifice and the drive to bring Christ to others.

Servant of God Vincent Capodanno, pray for us!

July 28-30: CFC-SFL/CBFL Conference 2017 - Road to Glory!

Could not have ended July any better. I've talked about CFC-FFL in a prior post, and I'm going to be a bit more direct in describing my wonderful adventures with them.

After finishing up another day of work on Friday, I took the train straight to O'Hare Airport. After a brief layover in Minnesota, I finally landed in Sacramento, California, albeit a bit late to the venue. At that point, I missed the first day, but I was lucky enough to be in contact with my friends who had already arrived from Chicago.

I woke up Saturday morning to commence my conference adventures. The conference was held at California State University at Sacramento (also known as Sac State), and it was an appropriate venue, as it was the conference for both the college and young adults' ministries of CFC-FFL this year. I got tapped to be an extraordinary Eucharist minister (which in Catholicism, is a lay person authorized to help the priest distribute communion during Mass); it was my first time being an EM with the hosts, and I naturally felt nervous, as I found myself handling the Body of Christ Himself. Mass went great that morning, though, and we began to attend the workshops that were set up for the day.

I signed up for four workshops. The first one I attended was about mission work. Now, I've done a couple of service trips prior to this, but this workshop reminded me about true commitment to a mission. A real mission isn't just a commitment of two weeks to help out in an impoverished area; it is to introduce love and hope into impoverished hearts and make a permanent impact that encourages growth, both physical and spiritual.

The second one I signed up for was about Mary, the Mother of God. This had a particular focus on Mary's veneration in the centuries following the foundation of the Church. Mary's various depictions and devotions throughout the world signify the universality of the Church's mission on earth. No nation or culture is excluded from the outreach of the Body of Christ. The singular yes of a young Jewish woman from Roman Palestine is a model for all Christians in their daily calls to holiness and discipleship.

Next came the workshop on vocational discernment. Hearing the stories from the panel (a married couple, a consecrated single, and a recently engaged Tom Park), I learned the dynamics of discernment. One does not simply pray to God and remain stagnant in the hopes that God will drop an answer in front of you; no, one must be on the move, following the path God has laid out for them, allowing for growth and the eventual realization of God's calling.

Snapshot from the Catholic Citizen workshop!

Finally, I attended the workshop on Catholic citizenship. With regard to political participation as a Catholic, it wasn't about how to vote or who to vote for, but rather how to maintain the integrity of your faith in the midst of today's issues. In light of the recent election, it broke my heart to hear about Catholics being shamed by their own brothers and sisters just because of who they voted for, and it was a relief to hear again that the Church does not look left or right, but up.

We had a powerful closing worship to end day two. We then came over to the Newman Center at Sac State for a rather lit afterparty. Now, I'm generally not one of those guys that immediately starts going into the dance floor and busting moves (I'm more of that guy in the back crossing his arms and bobbing his head thinking he's a cool cat), but I had a fun time chilling with my brothers and sisters from across the nation.

Sunday came, and we had our concluding Mass, worship, and speaker. The time came for the announcement of next year's conference. Turns out that SFL and CBFL will be having separate conference in New York and Houston, respectively. No biggie, I can come to both. Anyways, this conference ended up becoming my highlight for this month, and I am excited to start getting involved with SFL and CBFL again.

Late Bloomer

Happy summer, readers! There's been so much going on in the weeks since my last post, so I hope to have you caught up on my recent experiences.

(Good news, yours truly finally has a job! Looks like I'll be resuming my commuting adventures and hopefully finding some interesting things to post about on the way.)

Anyways, I'd like to bring up a recent undertaking I've started. Sometime during Christmas 2015, I spent my vacation with my family in the Philippines. I always love to visit them, but my limited knowledge of Tagalog was a bit of a personal embarrassment. I already have a strong bond with my family back there, but I always felt I needed that bond to be stronger.

During a shopping trip with my family, I stepped into a bookstore. Lo, and behold...

FINALLY.

With generally little hesitation, I bought the book and took it back home to Chicago. I'm 22 years old now. I might be a bit of a late bloomer, but I'm more than willing to put in the work. I've already finished the first chapter, and I'm happy with the progress I've made, little as it is. It'd be great if I found someone else to practice and learn with, though I'm quite not confident as to who to go to.

It's about time I did this. Who knows, I might end up doing an entire post in Tagalog. Tayo na!

Foundation: My Life with the CFC-FFL Family

The day I joined CFC-YFL (Couples for Christ Youth for Family and Life) was a life-changing chapter. After a period of lapsed faith and your general high school drama, I pulled myself back together with a new mindset. Together with a new family, I chose to dedicate my life in service to Christ and His Church.

YFL Spring 2010 Camp

Seven years have passed since I attended my first YFL youth camp, and since then I've collected a treasure trove of memories with my brothers and sisters from the whole CFC-FFL community. Bonds were made through joy, sorrow, and the overall journey of the human experience. This relationship with the community has helped me affirm my faith and my relationship with God and I do not regret the path they have guided me to.

In the years following that first youth camp, I found myself called to share my faith experience as I participated in future camps as part of the retreat team. Through this service, I found myself exposed to various questions regarding, but not limited to, who I was, why I came to the community, and why I stayed. My fellow team members helped me build up a better understanding of what and why I believe as a Catholic.

A few years later, I received a call through which I was asked to become a camp leader. The task seemed overwhelming and part of me wanted to run away from this responsibility. However, I confronted this initial self-doubt: "Why should you run away? Is this not an opportunity for you to grow even further in your faith?" Upon accepting that call, I, along with a wonderful group of brothers and sisters, began preparations for that weekend. The weeks leading up to the retreat were difficult, but it was great knowing we were bearing the burden together as a family. In spite of the numerous ups and downs of preparation, we never gave up on the goal. On retreat weekend, everyone did an amazing job guiding the new retreat members and we lovingly accepted them into our family.

YFL Spring 2014 Camp

Looking back at that weekend, I've realized I've grown even further as a result of that service. My mindset compared to how I saw things back then have become more focused on bringing God to others, as long as I keep myself accountable for my own formation.

That same year, I moved on to the young adults ministry of CFC-FFL, Singles for Family and Life (SFL), where I continued my faith formation during my college years. However, recent events have caused me to lapse from SFL event attendance, and sadly, I have not been in much contact with my brothers and sisters as I had before. I've been hungry for some spiritual nourishment a long time, and since my graduation from AIT, I've been wanting to catch up with my friends from the community. Hopefully, I can go to another household meeting and resume what I started at day one with YFL.

Open Ears

I forgot to bring my headphones.

I sat uncomfortably throughout my ride on the CTA this morning. I did not have the usual comfort of listening to Gemini Syndrome on my commute, instead looking everywhere and generally avoiding eye contact with other people; I occasionally looked through my Facebook profile and emails on my phone, but even that couldn't alleviate the discomfort and social anxiety. I was used to closing off the outside world with my headphones and staying comfortable in the stagnancy of my "happy place".

But not this time. With my ears open, I was barraged with the bustle and boom of the world around me. Conversations about recent events. Parents introducing their children to the public transit system. Arguments on the phone. Homeless people asking for help.

Why now? Why should I listen to all of this? It pains my ears to hear the pain in this world. I want the noise to stop.

But that's probably why my ears were opened in the first place. One can ignore the pain, but it doesn't make it go away; it will still be there when you return to reality. You'll have to treat it directly if you wish to make your world a place worth living in.

Reality can hurt. It's what we do with the hurt that brings us out either at our best or our worst. We open our ears and listen to our surroundings. What is wrong? How can we fix it? What is right? How can we cultivate it? More questions may lie behind these initial ones, but they lead to more refined answers as we delve and explore our world and our lives.

I'm glad I didn't bring my headphones.

"Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear." --Mark 4:9b

Pascha and the Lenten Fast I Didn't Even Know I Was Doing

Christ is Risen! Alleluia! Familiar words for faithful Christians after a laborious observance of Lent. Through forty days of prayer, fasting, and alms-giving, and then the culmination of the Triduum, we arrive once more at the joyous holy day of Pascha/Easter!

This Lent was very challenging for me this year. I faced several difficulties and temptations which often threw me off my intended path. I often forgot that we were in Lent and I found myself falling into old habits which I believed to have discarded long ago. My prayer time became a roller-coaster of talking to God vs. mumbling a few Jesus Prayers without really paying attention to my own words. I became doubtful and questioned my commitment not only to this year's Lent, but to my faith in general.

But this questioning and doubt was in itself a wake-up call for me, a sort of subconscious Lenten sacrifice. I may have had numerous failings during the season, but I'm very glad to have noticed the issues. It is this self-assessment which assisted me as I explained my Lenten situation to the priests in the confessionals and allowed me to better shape my outlook on where God was leading me. I felt affirmed by the various friends I turned to for guidance and accountability. Visiting Christ Himself in the Eucharist bathed me in a sea of assurance and hope that my questions and doubts would be answered at the proper time.

It was in this Holy Week that I saw everything fall into place; I witnessed it in a way larger than I had expected. There was a warmth in my soul that I had not felt since I left for basic training in August, and there was also a greater pull--an acceleration in movement towards where God was leading me. I think I know where to go further at this point, though, of course, there is quite some uncharted territory left to go. Something to pray for more ardently as the years come and go.

It's key that we check ourselves once in a while. Perhaps there may be something we may have overlooked in the questions we ask ourselves daily. Not only can we find a potential answer, but also potential new questions to help better understand where God is leading us. As questions and answers come and go, we discover hidden treasures within ourselves which God has laid out.

What roads and treasures do you think God has laid out for you?

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart." --Jeremiah 1:5a

A Spark of Conversion

Not too long ago, I found an advertisement on Facebook for a web series entitled "City of Saints". I was interested and signed up to receive updates on new episodes. Yesterday, I received an email informing me of the new episode, which you can view yourself in the link provided.

City of Saints Episode 1: The Good Thief

After having viewed this, I was exceptionally touched by Alex's conversion story. I, along with many others, can relate to the struggles, both external and internal, that he had faced in life. Many times, I often felt that I had no one to turn to for guidance, no matter where I looked.

It took various personal struggles in high school and college for me to realize that God the Father is always watching over me, even when I feel like He's not there. Every fall I have experienced has led to a greater rise; and it will only become greater in the years to come, in spite of the trials yet to come, as long as I keep my desires fixed on Christ, the Summit of my life.

Faith has always been important. With the recent troubles going on in our communities, we need to keep our focus on hope and strive to repair and build up those who cannot sustain themselves. We all have a calling to change at least one person's life and potentially start a chain reaction of change; question is, are we going to answer it?

I highly recommend that you sign up to subscribe to the City of Saints series. There are more inspirational stories to come! Also, please like my Facebook page and follow me on Instagram for blog updates! Thanks for stopping by!

My Raw Future

It was a weird feeling when I got out of college. I transitioned into basic training and AIT, and when I got out of that and came back to Chicago, it felt even weirder. In the years leading up to this, I've had relatively smooth transitions between education levels from grade school onwards, easily anticipating what I was going to go through next.

Not this time. Although I've already applied for an online graduate program and am currently anticipating a transition to graduate school, I find myself in a rather awkward state. I flounder about, occasionally job hunting and squaring away a few tasks at home. I go back to my old school and socialize with my friends who are still riding the college struggle bus (though many of these will soon graduate this semester. Good luck, guys!). This floundering makes me feel like I don't quite know what I'm doing exactly in the now.

Sometimes, when I'm alone at home, the uncertainty gets a bit tense. The "I don't know" of the now becomes the "I don't know" of the years to come. Sure, there's a game plan for the future, but can such a plan be sustained with what I have now? There is so much to think about.

But I realize I'm getting rather impatient and, as a result, I see myself jumping the gun. I realize that I'm only just beginning to get a bigger taste of the world beyond the bachelor's degree. I need to get a feel for my surroundings and know them before I tackle the goals head on. It takes time for a hot meal to fully cook, and eating it now will leave a bad taste in your mouth and will probably also send you to the hospital.

Patience.

Break from the Break

Life can get pretty hectic, even when you think you're in a break period.

Today, I went on a men's retreat at St. John Cantius in Chicago (aka America's Most Beautiful Church). Figured I needed to reflect a little more on where I've gone in life and to discern a little more where God wanted to take me.

There was a lot of material given during the retreat talks relating to faith and theology, but what really struck me was the prayer involved. Undergoing the Sacrament of Penance, attending Holy Mass, and praying the Rosary and the Stations of the Cross became a revitalization for me who hadn't done most of these things in quite some time. I began to rethink the status of my faith and I realized I needed to be a bit more upfront and honest with myself.

Too long have I been stagnant waiting for God to drop answers from the sky; I know He has the answers, but I need to act if I truly wish to participate in His will. God's not a vending machine through which a certain number of prayers will get me the things I need, much less the things I want. I need to give myself to the One who gave Himself for me. That's how you get personal with God.

A Snail Mail Challenge

I've been chilling in my room for the few months following my return from Fort Jackson. I look around and see the numerous unused envelopes and stamps from basic training. And an idea pops into my head...

When I had my phone taken for the duration of basic, I was left with the option of communicating via traditional mail, for which I had to pay in order to get the needed materials to send a simple letter back home to my family and friends. It felt very weird at first--not having done this in well over a decade--but I soon got the hang of handwriting letters and addresses again.

In comparison to the texts I casually sent over my phone and my laptop, these messages felt more personal; instead of the relaxed convenience of typing on a touchscreen, I felt the strain on my wrist as I wrote and scribbled my messages. I felt the effort put into this communication; for the first time, I felt I was actually caring for my loved ones by making these mailings. Of course, I did feel something similar with digital messages, but in my case, the effort and the care felt real when I wrote my heart out.

When I was given my phone--and with it, the ability to text again--I felt different about the way I communicated after ten weeks of snail mail. Texting never felt as personal as writing a letter. Typing and leaving it for someone to eventually pick up their phone and see it didn't have the ring of, "I put in some of my resources just to speak my heart to you." I wanted to do more with the old styles, strange as it sounded.

And that feeling still echoes with me to this day. I want to experience the effort of caring and setting aside my resources for someone I love. I want that intimate feeling of true communication again. I want to pour my whole heart into creating a message that matters.

I have set a challenge for myself and for you readers as well if you wish to join in:

I'm going to start mailing people again. If you'd like, message me your mailing address (it will be kept confidential, of course), and I'll get to writing you a simple, but hopefully heartfelt letter. No matter where you are, I'll send you a message. For me, this is a personal exercise for my communications and relationships with others, and I encourage you to give it a try. It heavily affected my relationships with my loved ones during and after basic, and I'm happy with the changes. Happy writing!

Digging Through the Dark and Dirty

"They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." --Revelation 7:14c

Today, I went down to St. Peter's in the Loop. Walking inside the church, I saw one of the confessionals with the light on--indicating the presence of a priest--and went inside.

The Sacrament of Penance may seem intimidating to many. For some, it can be very uncomfortable revealing certain life aspects that seem best kept to oneself. "What if the priest chews me out for doing this?" and "I can't be telling anyone about that" are a couple of the thoughts I've had pertaining to confession during my initial years of my formation as a Catholic--and sometimes, I admit, still have occasionally. Confession, to many, puts one on the hot seat.

Coming out of the confessional today had my thoughts racing about my faith formation. I had doubts about the genuineness of my personal prayer time, and wondered whether or not I was truly having a relationship with God through this. I felt I was reverting back to that phase in my life where I thought saying certain words in a set sequence would fulfill that relationship. Everything felt cold and isolated. I kept bringing this up with many priests as I opened up in the confessional for several years.

It was after today's confession that I realized the answer had been in front of me the whole time. The Sacrament of Penance in itself is a prayer, a communication with the divine. It was a way to open up about my personal life and the struggles that came along. It was personal as I admitted my sin through my own words as I dug deep into the darkest chambers of my heart. With these chambers exposed, the priest, an instrument of God's peace, reminded me of the Father's loving mercy which no sin can surpass. What was exposed was not merely a dirty soul, but an open path to renewal.

I have realized that this Sacrament has been my most personal means of prayer, and I hope to continue to utilize it in my formation and discernment. Catholics, do not fear the confessional; it is there to heal, not to punish. Take it as an opportunity to get personal with Christ, who forgave even those who crucified Him. The churches are not simply museums of saints come and gone, but hospitals for sinners (or saints in the making, I should say.)