My First Video Blog Post

Saint Ignatius, pray for us.

Clarity

Lk 1:26-38

The angel Gabriel was sent from God
to a town of Galilee called Nazareth,
to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph,
of the house of David,
and the virgin’s name was Mary.
And coming to her, he said,
“Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.”
But she was greatly troubled at what was said
and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
Then the angel said to her,
“Do not be afraid, Mary,
for you have found favor with God.
Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son,
and you shall name him Jesus.
He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High,
and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father,
and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever,
and of his Kingdom there will be no end.”
But Mary said to the angel,
“How can this be,
since I have no relations with a man?”
And the angel said to her in reply,
“The Holy Spirit will come upon you,
and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.
Therefore the child to be born
will be called holy, the Son of God.
And behold, Elizabeth, your relative,
has also conceived a son in her old age,
and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren;
for nothing will be impossible for God.”
Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word.”
Then the angel departed from her.

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Today is the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, and to mark this very important date I went to Mass and confessed, although unfortunately I wasn't able to receive communion. Maybe later today.

I consider this solemnity personally significant because of the fact that if it weren't for Mary's intercession, I wouldn't be here today. My mother prayed hard to the Blessed Virgin to stop her abnormal vaginal bleeding which would have jeopardized the pregnancy that was to be me. She was due for dilatation and curettage, had it not been due to Mary's help. Just a day before the schedule, the bleeding stopped. Since this event particularly refers to the process of conception, I really pray to Mary in her title as the Immaculate Conception.

Through the years that I have spent learning about Mary in Catholic school, what never escaped my curiosity is her Immaculate Conception. I just eventually resigned that this was to be a matter of faith, but this does reveal about how much we need to pattern our lives on hers. Although Mary was conceived without sin, Catholic doctrine teaches us that she lived also without sin, through the grace of God. Human as she is, God's grace enabled her to live such an exemplary life to merit all these titles we now appell to her.

All through this week, I have been defeated by my human weakness, as I saw myself falling from sin to sin to sin. Despite my being obstinate in doing my own way, Mary was still at my door, smiling at me, gently reminding me of the eternal things I should be saving up for, instead of temporary pleasures. This taught me that no matter what, like that of an ideal mother, Mary never cares about how much we sinned, she still loves us, as she loves her Son.

Inay, ipagdasal niyo po ako. Please pray for me, my Mother.

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The past weeks saw me getting addicted to one of those American medical-oriented evening shows: Scrubs. It showed me a lot of the things I was struggling to get used to about being a doctor-in-training. Not to mention the fact that I identify myself very much with its main protagonist, John Dorian, who likes to daydream and is not what one would stand out as a medical doctor in terms of knowledge, but as one in terms of compassion with patients. Apparently he has been the butt of jokes throughout his life, and has gotten used to with not being "in", but he has chosen to accept these facts of life and move on with making rewarding relationships.

He has his best friend Turk, a surgeon, and his girlfriend Elliot to count on when things go down. Despite not being that popular in my immediate circle, I am happy that I have friends to count on myself. And one of my best friends is really bent on surgery, why, he even considers himself one of the black boys who rap.

I just wonder if I will have my own Elliot someday.

The show is currently on its ninth season, where JD has now become a medical school professor. There it is again. I love teaching, and I imagine myself teaching in medical school every time.

I do look forward to becoming a doctor myself, and I'm excited to see my life unfold as in that way that JD's did.

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I am currently praying for clarity, for I am currently exploring another aspect of my religious calling. Please pray for me.

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Saint Ignatius, pray for us.

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image credits: http://www.aquinasandmore.com/images/items/13597lg.jpg; http://image3.examiner.com/images/blog/wysiwyg/image/scrubs(9).jpg

Unfading

Lk 21:29-33

Jesus told his disciples a parable.
“Consider the fig tree and all the other trees.
When their buds burst open,
you see for yourselves and know that summer is now near;
in the same way, when you see these things happening,
know that the Kingdom of God is near.
Amen, I say to you, this generation will not pass away
until all these things have taken place.
Heaven and earth will pass away,
but my words will not pass away.”

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Today's Gospel tells us about the permanence of God's words, how, despite the changing generations, times, and prevailing cultures, the Word of God does not fade away.

Just this afternoon as I was about to attend mass, I was praying for guidance for my upcoming exams in internal medicine when a question suddenly struck me: how should I love the Lord? He has been there all along, in my sinfulness, and in the times I recognized Him enough to avoid sinning. In the times I have been confused about life, and the choices I make. In the times I groaned and shouted expletives at difficult circumstances that found my way through the years.

He has been there. I believe that, in one of my prayers He told me He will always be there. And He never failed me. But I fail Him. And this is what my heart, when fully awake and cognizant of this, makes me want to shed tears for.

My friend, whom I'll call Francis here, asked me about God's faithfulness, no matter our sinfulness is. I just told him that He is a forgiving God.

A forgiving God, enough that He still allows me to live, and to work so that, in the future, I may come to serve Him in the way that He wants for me.

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Saint Ignatius, pray for us.

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picture credit: http://mchristi.wso.net/fig_tree2.jpg

Assisting at Anointing

I just assisted at anointing one of my patients, who presented at the emergency department with a very poor prognosis. Unresponsive to all of the stimuli I tried to rouse her from sleep, and her pupils not responsive to light, she looked as if death were waiting around the corner.

Since I started rotating in the hospital as a clinical clerk, in other words a junior doctor, the phenomenon of death has never failed to perplex me. It seems so fast as it comes, snatching life out of those whom it calls to. I once had another patient who, after being suctioned of his phlegm through his breathing tube, suddenly became agitated and died. Death is as scary as it is abrupt, all that has been with the person is now over. The heart stops, the eyes cease to respond to light, the breathing stops, and the blood pressure goes down to 0/0.

It is not a comfortable feeling to have one of your own patients die.

I have often been exposed to death as though it were something to be expected, something after which, life could go on for the rest of us in the hospital. Back to work. No debriefings. No processing sessions. Just getting back to work. One still has other patients to work on. One still needs to study. One still needs to go on, move on.

I have not gotten used to it though. There is still a part of me that wants to grieve.

My friend TJ, a Jesuit novice, once asked me how we medical professionals manage to cope with witnessing death. I told him there is no single way.

I imagine myself suffering with the family, and the dying patient as my own flesh and blood. This brings tears to my eyes, in part, because this person has been loved and cared for by his family and loved ones.

I cry. I slowly realize that all that this world has to offer has its end. And I slowly get reminded to work for riches that will at least earn me a place in heaven. Or, to put it more altruistically, to work so that I can help other people earn their respective places in heaven too.

Witnessing death may have caused me sadness. But if I were to look at death as a path towards life eternal, I ought to feel that death is also an opportunity for those living to realize how we should make the best out of the life that has been given us.

Assisting at this morning's anointing just made me realize this: God is still calling me to do greater things than this.

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Saint Ignatius, pray for us.

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Picture credit: http://www.stblase.org/images/sacraments_images/anointing.jpg

Holy Perseverance

Lk 21:12-19

Jesus said to the crowd:
“They will seize and persecute you,
they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons,
and they will have you led before kings and governors
because of my name.
It will lead to your giving testimony.
Remember, you are not to prepare your defense beforehand,
for I myself shall give you a wisdom in speaking
that all your adversaries will be powerless to resist or refute.
You will even be handed over by parents,
brothers, relatives, and friends,
and they will put some of you to death.
You will be hated by all because of my name,
but not a hair on your head will be destroyed.
By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”

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"Kailan ba matatapos ang kabaliwang ito? (When will all this madness end?)" I exaperatedly sighed upon arriving at home after a tiring tour of duty as a student psychiatrist on duty for the past 24 hours. I had seen 3 patients who have been sent to the emergency room for ingestion of toxic substances, silver jewelry cleaner and moth balls among others. I have also seen a woman who has been taking drugs, which have triggered her schizophrenia. Interviewing her was a challenge, and I risked being shouted at by this patient.

Stress. Today's lifestyle demands much of our time than before, and medicine is definitely not an exception. Today's Gospel reminds us of the importance of the things that God given us, the responsibilities He has entrusted us. And to do them, not just because we need to finish them, but because it is our purpose in life to be faithful to what God is calling us to do.

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Saint Ignatius, pray for us.

The Best I Have

Lk 21:1-4

When Jesus looked up he saw some wealthy people
putting their offerings into the treasury
and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins.
He said, “I tell you truly,
this poor widow put in more than all the rest;
for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth,
but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.”

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It has been more than 3 months since my last post at this blog. All along my blogging hiatus, two readers have signified interest in following my posts, and thank you very much. But I now think it is time to start anew, and while things in medical clerkship are beginning to be more manageable, more time for meditation has to be done. God only desires the best out of us.

Today's Gospel tells us of how God appreciates those who are willing to give their all to Him, like the widow who unselfishly gave all the coins she had, two of them. How much am I willing to give? Is it only the surplus? Am I ready to give all my life right now, and let God take care of the consequences?

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To update all those who have been reading this blog during my blogging hiatus, I am now in my fourth year in medical school and have just braved through clinical clerkships in the following departments: obstetrics-gynecology, anesthesiology, emergency medicine, surgery, internal medicine, and now, neurology and psychiatry. It has been a very stressful stage in my life, and it has allowed me to reflect on different ways I handle stress, responsibilities, and relationships. For the latter, this would not mean only relationships with other people, but also with God. even now, I find myself struggling to pray, and use prayer as a way to counteract the negative energies that stress in medical school is giving me. I haven't been attending church in the same way that I have been before. And habits are beginning to form once more, habits that I have always wanted to be under my control.

I felt God was there all along, silently goading me on and reassuring me that there is something greater to this chaos I am being forced to brave through. But there was a feeling of emptiness, that I tried to fill with all my human, therefore frail, strength. God proved to me once more He is more than anything I could ever muster. And I am just to happy to hear His voice and listen to what He wants me to do.

There are three things that my confessor told me about getting back on the road, and giving time for meditating everyday experiences: praying to God not to put his graces to waste, praying for the grace to do three things better, and praying:

Lord, help me get back on track.

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I have a patient to accompany to CT Scan in five minutes. Gotta rush.

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Saint Ignatius, pray for us.

Lining Up for Cory

I had to write this so I will always remember. And it's not because I will soon forget, but because every single detail of what happened that night deserves to be written for the next generation. It may be a mere quarter of a day, but it will be one of the most meaningful 6 hours of my life.

After a joint fraternity-sorority activity at the College of Medicine yesterday night, I was still deciding whether to push through with my plans to visit the wake of former President Cory on her last night at the Manila Cathedral. The activity ended almost past 8 and I had worries about arriving late at home. I was told that there were no classes the next day for duty clerks anyway, but still, I only had very little idea how long will lining up for the public viewing take.

"Bakit ka ba pupunta sa burol? Sino ba siya sa iyo? (Why are you off to the wake? Who is she to you?)" These were questions that friends posed when I showed my keen interest to attend the last night of the wake. I simply told them that I felt it was a personal duty, a patriotic duty, to salute to this most cherished figure of Philippine democracy. My "patriotic" feelings were even questioned, almost insultingly at one point, but I carried on. I had to see Cory that night.

Childhood memories of watching Cory's speeches and appearances accompanied my conflicting thoughts, of whether to go or to retire for the night. Recalling images of her amid crowds of jubilant Filipinos after the victory of the People Power Revolution of 1986, and remembering the stories of my parents who actively flashed their Laban signs and joined the rest of that EDSA crowd were enough to steel my resolve. I knew my parents would want to see Cory, but this time, fate allowed me to carry out this obligation instead.

Yes, I felt it was an obligation. The freedoms we enjoy today, albeit abused and misused now; we owe it to her. I felt I had to give her one last salute. I wanted to thank her.

Carrying my bag rammed full of medical instruments, stash, books and empty forms, I joined the rest of the yellow-clad passengers who were riding on that jeepney in front of the Manila Central Post Office at Liwasan. The barker was shouting, "Yung kay Cory! Sakay na!" I wished I had worn a yellow shirt as well, but I just redid my yellow ribbon above my nameplate. Apparently, I was the only medical student in full all-white uniform on the way to Manila Cathedral.

"Hanggang anong oras po ba yung burol? (Uo to what time will the wake be?)" I asked one of the passengers. They had different answers. One said until 9pm, to which I panicked, for it was almost 8:15pm. Later, I heard that the viewing would be until 4am. I sighed in relief while I alighted the jeep and walked towards the Cathedral, with some elderly folk on their way as well. "Sabay ka na sa amin, (Come with us)" one of them invited me.

At that point, I noticed that Aduana Street had been barricaded. Booths in front of the Cathedral have been set up, many of them water stations. There was a freedom wall. Most of us were looking for the line for the public viewing, and found one line which looked just like that. I then joined the rest of the growing undirected crowd to the end of that line, whereupon someone in uniform told us that the real line is at the back of the Cathedral. I still had patience to walk and find the real line, despite the fact that I had not eaten dinner yet.

God had plans for me that night, I realized. Soon after walking with the rest of that redirected group of people, one of my friends in YFC, along with his dorm mates, greeted me. I was too happy to see someone with whom I can share this experience. I was already imagining how I could make this journey alone, and I thanked God for the friends He sent there to make the journey lighter.

Lighter indeed, for as I realized, the real line stretched the whole street adjacent to the Cathedral, winded down into more than 4 other streets, and ended at the section of the Wall fronting the other side of Intramuros. We were indeed facing a tough journey ahead. With free bags of Almond Kisses given out to those who came to see Cory that night, my friend Thor, his dorm mates and I made our way towards the end of the line. When we did see the end of the line, people were rushing to secure their places. We chose to secure our places with less rush and effort. We'll need more energy, I thought.

The line did not advance right away, for just as I and my friends met, the 8pm Mass for Cory was being held, and I figured dignitaries were being ushered out before the wake was to be opened for public viewing. As such, it seemed the wait was to be forever. We decided to pray the Rosary. Only then did we realize the line advancing. But more miracles, so to speak, were bound to happen.

"Yung pilotong may dala-dalang bomba noon, ihuhulog niya sana sa mga taong nasa EDSA, andun kaming lahat nagdadasal, mayaman man o mahirap, nung nakita niya kaming lahat, umatras siya, (A pilot who carried bombs on his plane was ordered to drop them on the EDSA crowd, we were all there praying, rich or poor, and when he saw all of us there, he retreated)" one of our companions at that line told us about what happened during that fateful event in 1986. She emphasized how much that event equalized Filipinos from all walks of life, and told her how proud she was that people of my generation were here at this line with her to experience a taste of being at EDSA in 1986. True enough, rich or poor were coming over, extending the already circuitous and much-congested line for the public viewing. People visibly without any means even to eat for that day were joining the march with people wearing jackets of Poveda, Ateneo and La Salle, and holding posh cameras and cellular phones. It was a touching sight.

The line again stopped, but the drizzle, already wetting the streets and rendering them slippery, became hard rain. We began to feel concerned. I had not brought my jacket, just an umbrella. I even consoled myself with the fact that my extra scrub suit could make for a fine replacement for my wet uniform when the weather becomes drier. Already wet and starting to shiver, four of us decided to get close together, lest the hard rain separate us amongst the already stressed crowd. I honestly did not know how worse can this situation become, until voices grew little by little. The Rosary was being said again. And this time, by more people.

We started praying again. The rain started to become more of a storm. A flood was slowly forming. Someone tripped into an open floodway, but thankfully was OK. People were rushing as the line advanced faster as expected, but with this heavy downpour. My clothes, my friends' clothes, everyone was wet. As we passed by the campus of Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila, the Rosary almost over, we still needed to boost our morale to continue on. Already, we have seen people leaving. But the majority, undaunted, continued to pray. My friends consoled themselves thinking that this is a way for us Filipinos to realize how much God has to purify us.

Things were getting better again, and the rain stopped, but the stage has been set for greater forms of expressing their love and faith in God, in Mary and in Cory. They began to sing, "We pray for our country, the land of our birth, we pray for our nations that peace be on earth," then afterwards being punctuated by the familiar refrain of Ave Maria. A repertoire of a whole songbook must have been sung by everyone in that part of the line that night, for not long after Ave Maria, we have been singing Mass songs, songs to Mary, and patriotic hymns: Bayan Ko, Pilipinas Kong Mahal and Ako ay Pilipino (My Country, My Love the Philippines, I Am A Filipino). It made me very proud to be Filipino, for this culture we are best known for - bayanihan - was readily seen and demonstrated that night.

We continued singing and took turns in starting songs. I was overwhelmed when there were times that I started to sing aloud when we felt we were running out of songs to sing, and the crowd supplying the next lines. We are indeed a nation of singers.

Before we knew it, the long line was being led into the Cathedral itself already. My friends and I were a bit nervous, and growing curious too, as to how Tita Cory now looked like after that yearlong bout with colon cancer. When I saw her immensely emaciated, and virtually unrecognizable (I even asked myself if this still was Tita Cory), I was shocked. This shock later led me to realize, that being a future physician, I have a great responsibility in my hands. For leaders, even the heroes we idolize and strive to imitate, fall at the hands of death, in its different forms. And in Tita Cory's case, it was cancer.

I struggled to shake off my shock, which has almost become that of a haunting.

As we made our way out of the Cathedral, we then decided to eat, and give ourselves a pat in the back. It was already almost 4 AM, almost 6 hours after starting the long journey. We already saw Cory and paid our last respects to such a great symbol of that constant struggle for freedom.

But then, we noticed the Freedom Wall, and, wanting to somehow involve my whole family in the patriotic duty I have just accomplished, I then wrote with all heart,

"MARAMING SALAMAT PO PRES. CORY, WE LOVE YOU! Lopez Family (Jimmy, Babes, Jim, Tin, John, Thom, Jam)"

We then parted and went on to our separate ways, exhausted, but content, for we became witnesses to history, and surely, this will always be something we will never allow to forget.

0050

6 Aug 2009

Image credits: http://www.ellentordesillas.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/cory-aquino2.jpg

A Journey Full of Surprises

Br. Jing Porcia, SJ; and friends Dane Sacdalan and Mykey Cuento during last year's Vow Day at the Sacred Heart Novitiate, Quezon City. I took this picture.

I found one of these pictures of what was my first time setting foot at the Jesuit novitiate almost a year ago. This immediately called to mind one of the things I had been thinking about all the while as I continue trying to know about God's call. If I choose this way of life I will have to die with it. The other way may be true about marriage, but I don't know which will be more attractive in the future.

Some of the posts I have written here have spoken about my yearning for family life in the future. Recent events, however, have led me to think twice about concluding prematurely what God's plans may be. I, as for now, am not sure yet what the Lord holds for me. He gives me pleasant surprises about myself.

Like how, for the past 5 months, there lies within an insatiable urge to study Spanish, and not rest until I converse like a native. I just chatted with a friend from Venezuela who incidentally shares my strange name Jaifred. Before that, I completed typing a reviewer that I had hoped will help me remember the notoriously difficult verb conjugations. Chatting with the Venezuelan Jaifred, however, reminded me that I still have to study more. Despite the fact that this person is almost 7 years my junior, chatting with him felt like attending an online lecture in Spanish. Not few of my replies merited this remark, "Tienes in error, ¡te rias! You are wrong, and I'm laughing at you!"

This is quite a test of both diligence and acting in accordance to a strange yet seemingly God-given urge to learn more and study more. I suspect that the Spanish language will be instrumental in my future.

I have even included writings of St. Alberto Hurtado amongst the things I read to broaden my vocabulary and practice my pronunciation. It is quite a personal achievement to hear oneself speaking and reading in another language. I have to admit that I pray to him for guidance in my discernment, as well as in my learning Spanish.

To those who get the access in reading this post, please continue to pray for me. God isn't done with me yet.

Estoy acalorado por Su sorpresa proxima.
I can't wait for His next surprise.

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San Alberto Hurtado, ayudame a saberla y hacerla a voluntad de Dios.

Back to Visiting Arvisu

San Alberto Hurtado Cruchaga, SJ (1901-1952, Chile)

I only have a number of minutes to compose this entry, I am actually in an Internet zone in the hospital where I could access my Blogger account more conveniently, for free. Good thing I have a laptop to use.

As some of the hispanoblantes have noted, I posted in my Spanish blog my visit to Arvisu, the prenovitiate house of the Philippine Jesuits in Quezon City. It was one of their open houses last Monday.


Admittedly though, I still find the difficulty of expressing myself fully in Spanish, because, beneath the simple words that I have typed in there, there lies a feeling of immense happiness and the yearning to seek Christ in everything I do, again. I think I have to write in English just to share how happy I really am right now.


Throughout the day there was an intense feeling within me, as we Filipinos call "kaba," throughout the hours preceding my visit. All the while I seem to palpitate, while listening to some downloaded material (a sermon in Spanish from St. Alberto Hurtado, SJ, the Chilean advocate of social justice) and thinking about God's will.


While on the way, many questions were in my mind. How is Arvisu, and how were the people now? It had been six months since my last visit. How are the friends to whom I have confided some reasons why I did not paid them a visit at an earlier time? How is my faith? Am I still called?


The visit somehow gave me insights on my own spiritual journey and how my questions can be answered. The visit did not directly give me the answers, but somehow paved the way for me to realize and meditate possible answers. I am still continuing to pray that I may always think of God, and how to please Him in others. Notwithstanding the roadblocks I encounter along the way.


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Saint Alberto Hurtado, pray for us.

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picture credit: http://www.csgabriel.edu.ec/aulav/file.php/69/hurtado.jpg

Another Blog...

...this time in Spanish.

This is part of an effort to really expand my horizons and enable me to reach out to as many people as possible. I haven't really studied Spanish for a long time, as will be shown by the errors I commit when I write in it, but hopefully, I will soon be more comfortable writing my meditations in Spanish as well as in English.

To access my new Spanish blog, El Viajero Plácido, please click here.

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Saint Alberto Hurtado, pray for us.

"Let Your Light Shine"

Gospel
Mt 2:1-12

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea,
in the days of King Herod,
behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying,
“Where is the newborn king of the Jews?
We saw his star at its rising
and have come to do him homage.”
When King Herod heard this,
he was greatly troubled,
and all Jerusalem with him.
Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people,
He inquired of them where the Christ was to be born.
They said to him, “In Bethlehem of Judea,
for thus it has been written through the prophet:
And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
since from you shall come a ruler,
who is to shepherd my people Israel.”
Then Herod called the magi secretly
and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance.
He sent them to Bethlehem and said,
“Go and search diligently for the child.
When you have found him, bring me word,
that I too may go and do him homage.”
After their audience with the king they set out.
And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them,
until it came and stopped over the place where the child was.
They were overjoyed at seeing the star,
and on entering the house
they saw the child with Mary his mother.
They prostrated themselves and did him homage.
Then they opened their treasures
and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod,
they departed for their country by another way.

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First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR! I am glad that this blog, as well as the urge to write in it safely passed through the end of 2008. I am very glad to write this first entry for the year 2009.

Today's Gospel tells us of how God makes ways just for His Will to be done.

I remember reading Bo Sanchez's thoughts about eventually desiring what God wills for you. I think that today's Gospel clearly shows that.

For the past days, in between the seemingly interminable slumber I have subjected myself to throughout my Christmas break, I somehow remembered how hectic I have allowed myself to be.

I somehow realized how I have to find Christ in my heart. Where is He? Where is the LOVE I am so yearning and with many ways I have attempted to seize for myself?

I have realized that it is a longing that would be so much as to make curious astrologers reach and follow a wondrous star so tenaciously.

Lord, help me to follow my own star. Amen

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Saint Francis Xavier, help me to shine my own light. Amen.

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photo: http://www.cresourcei.org/images/epiphany.jpg