Oh The Weather Outside is... wonderful!

Oh the weather is... frightful? Nah, why you're in Mexico, sunshine ALL year long! :)

As the weeks pass I can hardly believe in almost 10 days little Ms. Gonzalez will be HERE!
I don't know how much she'll remember the few weeks she will be here in Guadalajara but I know for me, as her older sister, it will be significant enough. She was a toddler when she left this city and now she is a big teenager visiting the place of her birth for the first time again! It's insane that her 10-year old cousin and her will finally meet for the first time!

A couple of months before leaving Mexico, little Ms. Gonzalez enjoys an uncle's family ranch and its animals :) 

And yet I realize that for some reason this is the life God has given me, the unique aspect of being "home" in two homes, of (God-willing) having the freedom to travel back and forth in these two unique beautiful places. I AM so blessed with this, or will be at least!

However I don't forget that really, this is a small victory, my brother will still be in another country because of details in the immigration law, my mom still has a longer wait and there's the reality that UNdesired immigration is still present and pushing Mexico. I believe that roughly 1 out of every 10 Mexican citizens are in the U.S. most as illegal immigrants, most having suffered through an awful ordeal of poverty. Minimum wage here continues to be 50 US cents the hour and I know full well food prices are about the same in both countries. It's a beautiful place, with a beautifully deep inequality and much too well defined socio-economic groups.

Art thrives in this theater built in 1866 in Guadalajara, still VERY much in use to promote the arts in the city

The gorgeous hills in Veracruz

Slums in Guadajara

C'est Fini

It's finished, se ha terminado....

Alas I find myself writing for a bit here again, with the most arduous desire to re-take this habit and I think indeed with the opportunity to do so!

The past two weeks or so have been a blur, I am not certain where one started or ended, and what content there was in the middle of them! It's suddenly early in December 8th and I find myself with the sweetness of a few weeks where there is so little planned and with a semester at the threshold of its completion. I normally dread these occasions, I am reminded of 4 months about a year and a half ago where time was painful, where it much too slowly and painfully layered into depression, loneliness and frustration. However I know the circumstance are quite different but I still find myself a bit antsy about planning errands, helping, doing, feeling a day has had some purpose to it. If anything (once this flu is over) I hope to spend a few days a week with the gorgeous children at the home. I still stand in awe of them, in their simplicity, in their extraordinary way of just living and being present to those who visit and care for them. They simply do it, they don't plan how or why they do it, they simply do. They live. They tell you what they need with a great faith that their need will be responded and then express gratitude in their authenticity of their personhood. They ask to be loved, and they love you by being fully themselves. I can't possibly ask for anything else... with them or anyone else really.

Regardless, God is so good, indeed He is! In about a month I'll be packing a few things to fly (or maybe drive?) to the Mexican border city of Cuidad Juarez (right next to El Paso, TX) known as El Paso al Norte (the gateway north.. slight change from St. Louis gateway to the West nickname) according to a quick search in wikipedia. For about a week little Ms. Gonzalez and I will go through the various requirements (ranging from medical examinations, fingerprinting, lots of paperwork and a final interview with U.S. official) required by law to see a place a year ago I wasn't certain at all when I'd see. Things really will change after that, and I anticipate the date more than anything! It's been over 10 years of a process where at any point it could end and break (and many many times I saw its end so close for various circumstances) so yes, I am pinching myself again and again to see if it's actually happening...

Regardless, indeed MORE to come!

Photo Credit: Lianette Papaterra, dear friend from St. Louis who took this picture in El Paso about a year ago. The right shows you Cuidad Juarez, city that awaits this pilgrim soon enough!

A Gift

As many folks back at home start one of my favorite holiday celebrations (yes, as a kid moving to the U.S. Thanksgiving was like two Christmas dinners in the same month, who wouldn't LOVE that?!) I feel a daunting sense of the year coming close to an end. Classes this semester haven't been nearly as successful as in the past and I feel the agony that I've failed myself, and that I am losing an imaginary scholarship which surely (in my mind) will no longer be there upon my return. As I grow weary of my stay in Mexico in academic aspects (and a desire to be back, to in my mind really start and stay in the place I'll graduate from and will be the jumping point of the rest of what I'll do in Biology) God showers me most abundantly with good people here and humbles me to see that there's a gorgeous aspect of my person that also blossoms outside of my own frantic tearing down of self in academics. To that I stand with an open arms gesture, yet still in a cautious trust but knowing FULL well that there is something most beautiful that happens in the middle of chaos..always.

And so the gift (the small wooden cross, imprinted with the label "Jerusalem" at the back) was given to me the day after my 20th birthday by a woman who in the past few months has been crazy enough to take on the responsibility and task of joining me in a bit more closely in God's conversation with me and perfecting the WiFi signal so to speak. A Handmaid of Christ King sister's gesture touched me deeply (and the authentic candies from Spain were also such a treat, praise God for pilgrimages and travel!) and I felt that God brought me to such caring and loving place, to such loving and caring people... He has treated most tenderly this "orphan" of His who arrived in Mexico nearing two years ago now and whatever hurt, and bruising may also have occurred in this interlude all is well, all is good, all is Love... 

....As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.  If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.  (John 15: 9...)

The Source of My (recent) Joy

It's been a while since writing here, school has started, immigration shenanigans have gone down and up, and my mind has been swirling and swirling and anxious for some quiet time of writing! It will come, I've realized that this discipline will be very helpful to me and it's much needed! In the meantime I leave a little snapshoot of the source of my joy as of late! A boy named Diego from the home I've been visiting here the past few Saturdays.. him along with a few other young lads in the home have taken away my heart and they're the few men that I will gladly give such precious thing to!

More to come!

Taming and the Little Prince

Amidst the week and half of rest and recovery I've had at home after a small surgery I had the great gift of finishing up perhaps one of the most well known children's classics.. The Little Prince , adapted by every culture and language it has arrived to as its own. In my particular case I didn't find this little treasure until I was in college and in fact had not heard of it before, despite now being in complete agreement as to why it rose to such fame. For only roughly 70 pages, it not only packs to the reader (many children I am sure) a great story line of a small  strange little boy traveling through different planets but also a great deal more subtle messages that are written in a very clear and clever manner. I found it quite quite the delightful story, and I still debate if  its end is extraordinarily hopeful or quite the opposite.

Perhaps one of the most well known portions in this work is the encounter of the prince with the flowers after  speaking with the fox, as he narrates to the roses about his beloved flower and why precisely it is beloved. I couldn't help but ponder and pray through this small passage:

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.

"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."

And the roses were very much embarassed.

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-- the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose..

I am certain one could extrapolate very different meanings from this portion. Each soul is indeed so unique and beautiful because God has "tamed" him/her in such a particular manner as well as other friendships.

Going with the last theme of remembrance of two very different places and standing in the middle of them I was certainly reminded of that. A few days after the last post I heard the very very gracious news my dad had received American residency and a few weeks after that immigration requested information about myself and my sibling. I stand in the interlude of anticipation and reality. Of remembrance of "taming" two very wonderful places and the being torn between the joy of returning to my beloved St. Louis and abandoning this city, who, as the fox experienced with the prince, had realized it built a much stronger bond..

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." 

It is very true that my time so far in Guadalajara has been relatively short, not yet a year and a half, and it's also true that in this interlude of anticipation and reality I still have some time with it. I've learned to never trust immigration too much, but regardless, as the prince knew, departure is near.. a few months at best and perhaps prematurely (and unlike the prince who seemed more joyful to return to his flower) I've begun to mourn a bit this interlude, despite its mystery. 

In roughly a week school resumes, Molecular Biology and Genetics (and 5 other classes!) promise to keep busy as well as maybe a job teaching 3 children this English language shenanigans, and I fear that the day shall come, in the middle of all of this where I too shall say:

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

And the fear or sadness is two-fold. The knowledge of the beautiful things I've tamed here but also the worry and sadness of the flower (hinting back at the story) that I've left alone for roughly a year and half. That's a year and half where I have not continued to "tame" that little planet of mine. I worry, like the prince, perhaps the wind has already harmed my flower...or the future harm of a sheep that I am bringing from this new place

"You must keep your promise," said the little prince, softly, as he sat down beside me once more.

"What promise?"

"You know-- a muzzle for my sheep... I am responsible for this flower..."

Before I digress too much I know that despite and with all of this taming, my only peace and joy comes from the joyous faith that I place all these "tamings" with Him. Knowing His graze embraces future, present and past.. and that (I pray) with wisdom and with the same severity in this care and concern as the little prince I can journey to each and every planet (again, alluding to the book) this pilgrimage calls me to!

One Year Anniversary

April 26, 2011

I arrived at the Guadalajara International Airport at 5:30 a.m. that morning, having traveled roughly half of the continental U.S. and over half of Mexico's national territory in the span of those wee hours of April 26th and the tearful night back on April 25th with my parents.

Major events like these remain vividly on my mind. I remember a careful re-sketching of every detail, of the feeble and fragile moments I last spent in person with folks I love dearly.... and I sketched, again and again and again, in fear that if I did not I wouldn't see them all again as quickly or that maybe if I sketched enough, it would seem I was with them again. For the first few months in this extraordinary year, I lived longing for what had been taken away, isolated, trying to return (physically) through this "sketching" of the recent past. 

The journey began something like this (from an e-mail to a friend, on April 26, 2011):

"Dear C,

I got to Guadalajara safely... unfortunately I have to leave right now but I will be sending a longer e-mail as soon as I can (my brother does have wifi at his/our place) but yes, arrival was a little rough... everything is so different C I don't know... with no sleep from the night flight and our short ride (a lot of it slums) all I could do when I got home was just cry but I am sure it will get better

Peace,

Sofia......."

I try to not be too hard on that Sofia. She was 18, scared to death, and left on her own to an empty apartment in a country that not only did she not know, it was also a country she didn't really want. There was a difference in EXPECTING an experience and then to actually be amidst it. I understood through all of it a bit more of what "desert" meant during those first few months:

 A desert in prayer, being taken away from the richness and blessings of a community of faith this young woman had developed and matured amidst, and to find herself separated from any and all of it. And yet without this drastic absence I don't think I would have reached quite as deeply the reassurance and wisdom that at the heart of fear and loneliness and sense of abandonment was God, as He had been always and of course would remain.

 A desert in friendship and family, with my brother's heavy work schedule and extended family who, over the last 10 years I was not with them, had grown accustomed to not seeing each other. I felt a DEEP absence from the warmth and presence my parish's families had given me throughout so many years. Wonderful family friends who, like my parents, had left all in Mexico however knowing God's deepest blessing had been in finding THIS family. Even today, a year later, I feel this pain one of the deepest. 

A desert in strength. With the previous aspects, for the first few months here I felt an exhaustion I had never experienced before. Anxiety that often lead me to slumber instead of looking into my own distorted reality. I could not find the enthusiasm or energy to smile on present experiences never mind the joyful expectation of the future.For the first four months or so, I often asked God why he had lead me to such horrible state when I had trusted so genuinely on this experience before my departure. 

 It was certainly a time where I most remembered these lines from Thomas Merton's No Man is an Island

Is there any greater wretchedness than to taste the dregs of our own insufficiency and misery and hopelessness and to know we are certainly worth nothing at all? Yet is blessed to have reduced to these depths if, in them, we can find God. Until we have reached the bottom of the abyss, there is something for us to choose between all and nothing.

It was certainly a blessed message and time in my own journey with God. He took every external consolation; my family, every deeply blessed spiritual friendship, the contact with wonderful lay people and as well as countless religious to know He was enough and to raise up those tearful eyes to cling most strongly to the One who first loved me.

And so now I stand, a year later, hardly believing such fact. Where is this young pilgrim at this moment?

My first answer would be to say "in awe", in most utter and complete awe of God's most generous heart.

The view from the top of the copula  of a small chapel in the state of Jalisco

I could have never imagined the blessings that for the last few months have begun to blossom in such abundance and deeply graced manner. I am building friendships rich in virtue and trust where I simply stand in awe at the young men and women who cross my path with such beautiful ideals and goals for themselves. I learn so much from them, and I am certain they draw me more profoundly to prayer and love for the Beloved. Many times their family remind me of the warmth of my own family (and those parish families I deeply miss!) who I haven't seen or touched in over a year- despite knowing I am "a big girl", there is still something magical about a home-cooked meal!

 I've also been challenged in maturity SO much and I think that goes naturally with being on my own (granted financially not so much yet). The whole shebang of curious incidents and troubles I've had a sample of, and praise God! It's been a lot of fun, and I have a lot more ownership of what it means (and calls!) to be a young Catholic woman living on her own in the 2nd largest city in Mexico. Questions such as how am I called to serve at this point? How and whom am I called to love at this point? How is God engaging my heart and intellect at this point? These are questions I ask frequently in prayer and through own self-examination. I've certainly gained great consolations in the friendships and ministry ( ah gosh, I think I'll miss my first communion kiddos deeply once mid-June gets here!) God has been so generous to provide (and many blessings that I am only starting its foundations) BUT I try to never forget the desert that to some extent should always be there. The same "desert" that God allowed most radically a year ago into my own life. I also don't forget the persistent hope and desire to return to a city I left a year ago and to re-kindle many friendships there who still continue to be DEEP nourishment despite time and distance. As I mentioned before, my first (and last) answer would be to say "in awe", in most utter and complete awe of God's most generous heart.

I end this little reflection with one of the first e-mails I read after my arrival to Guadalajara, a sweet gesture of love and tenderness from a dear dear friend:

 It's my dear sister Sofia!

I don't know if you've arrived or checked your email yet, but I just wanted you to be greeted by an email reminding you of my prayers, love, and support that go with you to Guadalajara. I hope your travels were free of too much trouble. I'll be on the lookout for at least a brief email letting me know you've arrived safely, and we can, of course, talk/write more extensively whenever you get settled in and have more time. I also wanted to share a brief tidbit about my prayer. Everyday during the octave of Easter, we pray the same antiphons before all of the Psalms at morning and evening prayer, and so every day this week we get to repeat the comforting words "Jesus said: do not be afraid." It's simple, but it's a profound truth - one so important that the words "do not be afraid" are repeated for us 366 times in scripture. (So you can think of it as once for every day of the year, and then once more just for good measure.) Have confidence in His assurance to you and His promise to be with you always.... Peace!

Br. J

And indeed, by the great grace of God, I continue to guard His promise for me in this pilgrimage, one that took a most special "flavor" over a year ago! Indeed a joyful anniversary to remember!

** The video shows a brief celebration of my 16th birthday with my family- appropriate for this "anniversary" celebration of sorts***

All Grown Up!!!

A family friend posted this picture from my little sister's confirmation  (@ the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis) yesterday and goodness, it is times like these that make my wait to see them all again much too long! I thank God DEEPLY for this little person who I welcomed into my life nearly 14 years ago!

And exactly 6 years ago, on April 2006, here is yours truly, also exactly the same age as little Ms. Gonzalez (we're 6 years apart in age):

Some Time....

From a recent journal entry:

"I take, my Sweet, my Love, some time. Time to realize I am not the center of my world, of my wisdom, of  my identity. I've gone around without any real contemplation, without oxygen for my soul. And it's now, that after such exhaustion, grace, Your grace, brings to me to silence. To contemplate my own worries and frustrations. In a way, to think before any reaffirmation of those thoughts and to think, not with my own frustrated and impatient nature but rather through the humbling experience to let myself take time and know my limitations are Your rightful and loving seat of glory"....

An pre-breakfast photo.. Cuatolol 2012

A LONG Break!

I think it has been nearly a month since writing here! Goodness time does go by much too quickly sometimes!

This interlude has been filled with many events and I know that I can't touch on each of them simply in one post so as a start here is a quick rundown:

-Continuing of school and enjoying it (for most classes) very very deeply! Maybe a "newbie" excitement to those masters of mine in biological studies BUT I was quite excited for the preparation of nutrient agar (jelly-like substance in Petri dishes) and cultivation of bacterial colonies such as Salmonella and my own bacteria found in the pharynx. I am enjoying lab work more and more which is a great source of comfort and affirmation in this career-pathway!

- Having the unique and blessed opportunity to welcome the Holy Father in my birth nation! To be near and close to those faithful awaiting for and with the Pope.  For 3 days I traveled (with Benedict) in the state of Guanajuato to the 3 different cities for the various events.The conclusion of the trip, attending my first ever Papal Mass, was indeed interesting! More on that to come!

- Attending a mission trip to the state of Hidalgo in the small rural community of Cuatolol was a vivid contrast from being so close to the Holy Father a few days prior. One of the many messages from my time there (which were vast and blessed) was this sense of universality and mission of Christ's tangible historicity.  I saw a similarity between those apostles who were called  to reach every corner of the world  (Matthew 28:18-20) after Christ's resurrection and my own much humbler trip to a somewhat remote town in Mexico after the blessed experience of  hearing the words of  reflection/hope from the Holy Father... again, MUCH more to come!

In the meantime, HAPPY EASTER!  I leave the following pictures from a few of the events:

The beautiful amber glow of candles from the people of Cuatolol during the Easter Vigil  Mass

At "Plaza la Paz" near Benedict's arrival Saturday

A Very Good Day

Although it's past midnight (and a tired college student has her alarm set for 6:30 a.m. ) I truly felt I would be in debt to myself (and God) if I didn't record, in writing, the joys of this day to remember in the future and share with those kind readers who may just stumble upon this space.

Today was good... it was very good. It had a goodness which melted in my mouth with such refined smoothness and depth. It was a taste of the remembrance of moments that emphasize the joy to live, the joy to love, the joy to be present in this pilgrimage. Yes, today was one of those days. There was a graced remembrance of this which made me most jubilant the years of my past high school youth.

Amidst asking for alms-giving (or something quite similar; selling raffle tickets) to finance an upcoming mission trip for Holy Week I encountered elements and opportunities which dearly reminded me of my faith community back in St. Louis. It's very hard to put into words that would appropriately convey somewhat clearly how these most ordinary sights and opportunities brought such strong reaction so instead of trying I'll simply list them! Perhaps sleep will shed some light for a future post... 

1) An absolute failed attempt at our request to sell our raffle tickets at a parish known for its numerous Monday attendees... along with plenty of folks who were quite clearly terrified of anyone asking for money.

2) Seeing Capuchin nuns, outside of the above parish, selling candy and tamales... and a strong contrast of the simple beauty of their habit compared with a very gorgeous young woman who passed by them wearing jeans and tank top in heels.

3) Stumbling into a parish run by the Capuchin family and providentially finding out they had lenten activities for young adults this week.. and their kind parish priest allowing us to make an announcement regarding funding for the mission trip.

4) Meeting a few of these Capuchin seminarians that with their zeal and youth reminded me of the  young men (Jesuit, Dominicans and Diocesan) in St. Louis who so so deeply enriched me with their friendship and care. This most common encounter however brought questions, conflicting thoughts/desires and pains who have most vividly been present with me recently, all of this of course unknown to them or anyone else who would have observed.

5) The surprising generosity of the parish attendees, who smiled and needed of no sort of persuasion (besides my poorly poorly nerve-shaken voice given announcement) to buy the $50-pesos priced ticket (roughly 4.50 USD)... God is good indeed!

6) The joy to have attended Mass (and all the above!) with a young woman whom I know very little but whose companionship reminded of the great joy the Church ought to have thanks to young  souls like her!

Again, why such joy arrived today is really an interesting (perhaps complex) mixture of different elements which intertwined themselves into a mesh of circumstances in my current emotional and spiritual state. 

For tonight, however, I will sleep and leave further reflection for the dawn!

Our Lady of Angels Parish; point 3

My Baby?

So, to break some of the silence from the last few weeks here is a picture that came up on my facebook page from a little person I know quite well:

Golly, I had to keep looking at it for a few seconds, examining if THAT person was the same person as this little girl:

Before I know it she'll be in high school, more independent than what she already is, surely breaking some hearts (and she best be certain I'll be sure to be on her back regarding proper interactions with the opposite sex!)..

But, in the meantime, I am missing her more than words can express! Nearing a year now since last being with her in person... and praying she sorrounds herself with good friends in the meantime.

I'll be passing along this link to her, although I am doubtful how reading her sister's thoughts compares to her new ipod touch ;)..

A Silent Moment

The "glow" is both from the poor quality of my phone camera and the darkness of the place.

             An older gentleman, the caretaker/sacristan of the parish, nearly one year ago now, told me to feel free to stay as much as I'd like in the parish after Mass, showing me a backdoor to use when he locked the main doors. I used this small freedom tonight after Mass.Folks dissipated fairly quickly and soon I was left in relative darkness, in the hallowed space of this rather large parish. And in my prayer, in my solitude and recounting with the Beloved I was reminded of a younger Sofia who also deeply rejoiced "venturing" into the darkness of a parish while her mother attended commitments in the parish in the late evenings (usually choir practice).  I was reminded of a younger Sofia who would eagerly take her mother's set of keys to the parish, carefully go up the stairs (always half-anxious perhaps "breaking in" the parish wouldn't seem like a brilliant idea to her parish priest), nudge the door open, and sit on the carpet, in front of the tabernacle, in front of a wooden Cross that had been there since the 1950's. A space where only the amber glow of candles distinguished the outline of the door she had entered from. And in that memory I shared with Christ, and in my reality I shared with Christ. In my current pew, in the current "newness" of this darkness, in a much bigger parish space I shared with Christ. In this silent moment I was reminded of a loneliness and longing, a missing, to see my family, to see that parish priest, to see that carpet again... and I asked .."How much longer Lord?"....  yet tonight I thanked God for such longing and missing, accepting how human such pain is and with the image above, going with Him a bit more intimately, with more honesty, into this Lenten season.... a wish (and prayer) for all those who read this blog.

"Do You Know What Sofia Means?"

As I vacantly stared at the courtyard of the parish this morning a small hand tugged at my dress.

"Hey, in what classroom are you in? Are you with the Confirmation kids?",  happily asked a little girl (7 or 8 years old) who I had sat next to a few minutes before in the chapel, place where the kids gathered every Saturday morning for prayer.

Smiling at both the question and her great extroverted approach I answered that I was indeed NOT preparing for Confirmation nor was I really IN a classroom.

"I am actually one of the teachers," I admitted, "with the first communion kids.I just started. I help Emi".

"Oh! I am not in that classroom but you know what I'll ask to change, yes, I'll ask to be changed to be with you!," she blurted with joy, nearly giving me a hug.

"What's your name?", she inquired with equal enthusiasm.

"My name is Sofia", I said.

"Ohhh... that's also MY name. Do you know what Sofia means?", she eagerly asked.

"Haha... yes", I began to answer and before my next word was formed she had joined with me...

"It means wisdom", we declared simultaneously.

Little Sofia continued to rejoice deeply in both the coincidence of our shared names and the actual meaning of it, smiling again and again and then wanting a high five. Her response perplexed my own mind and made me ask myself if her reaction arrived from the beautiful innocence kids hold or a deeper grasp of what "wisdom" was to her. It was a curious thing indeed but at the moment I just continued to respond to her with a smile as she continued to rejoice and giggle for a few more seconds.

I knew the strongest motivation (one I prayed about for a few months) for joining the catechetical team at my parish was born from the realization that I needed to grow "deeper roots" in the place I am now. I needed to give myself wholeheartedly to a task that would be fruitful, a task that would require a fair amount from me intellectually and spiritually and in the end, to no longer look "back" in what I wish it were but realize the beautiful potential and blessing of what I was holding. I needed to quite literally hold and touch the things I loved. I knew God was withholding that actual physical touch of my parents, dear friends and other things that still felt "unsettled" in St. Louis perhaps to draw me that much closer those I am called to love, to caress, to share with here. Little Sofia's most immediate and genuine embrace of my person from the simple few minutes we spent together in the chapel was a beautiful sign of God's most tender and sweet watch of this most stubborn daughter of His.

But really, I've continued to ponder Sofia's question since this morning... Do you know what Sofia means?...and in a more sincere respond I'd say to her, "No my dear, I am not exactly certain but I pray to abide somewhat close to its Greek derivative of "wisdom". Wisdom to know my own hidden distortions of truth and inclinations to reach for those distortions, wisdom to know my own vulnerabilities and pains, wisdom to also recognize the Beloved's most sweet and gentle call of love, Wisdom to have the faith and consistency to keep seeking the above forever"

Sofia the Martyr and her 3 daughters: Faith, Hope and Love. This early martyr is still honored in the Eastern Orthodox Church

Things Not Hoped For....

It has been a couple of weeks since writing here. It's such a paradox how those two weeks and a half seemed to have gone both so so painfully slowly and also over in a blink of an eye. There were a few posts I started writing but never quite finished, brief recounts of the small blessings encountered over those weeks. Whatever witness those events presented me in the interlude of the past post are still quite valid and still bear its distinguished imprint of God's most mysterious workings in my life. As a friend put it a few days ago, sharing with me a line her spiritual director often tells her:  "I am only a spectator of God's drama between you and Him"... I often feel this blog (and the few numbered readers) is that humble spectator!

Speaking a bit more closely to the title of the post is really an opportunity to speak of the great mystery sometimes life is to me. I can't comprehend it. I can't even start to do so. My return to this city is one of those great great enigmas in my life. I couldn't understand why God wouldn't place the path, the circumstances, to allow me to remain with my parents, to allow for me to be present to my little sister right now in those crazy teenager years and the sometimes not wise ways they seek that independence/identity. I continue to lament she is growing up without me, despite my perhaps fake grandeur as to the depth of my guidance. Regardless this enigma has had a richness, a fruitfulness, in its potential to be a gift to the Beloved. It has been an opportunity to show faithfulness in a most palpable way  which has drawn me to my knees time and time again. It forced me to be brave when, if left to my own attachment of comfort, I never would have done or offered.

Today I reflected ever more deeply on this particular enigma. My dad recently had a meeting with immigration and for over a month I had prayed and hoped fervently for its good outcome. Countless times at Mass or adoration I would confide to Him how much heart longed to see them all again. The immigration situation with my dad was drastically made more complex by a great injustice that has haunted us for nearly a year now. Regardless, many dear folks hoped for the best in this long long awaited meeting... meeting we were waiting for since the beginning of this whole process, some 8 or 9 years. And so my hope, my prayers turned into a frustrated answer where more uncertainty sets in as well as another 3 month wait without any sort of security or deserved outcome. Truth is, today, I can't grasp any of it. After hearing the outcome of the meeting my response to the Beloved in my crucifix was a frustrated tired whisper: "what else do you desire of me? what else?"

For tonight I continue to sit with this question....

Crucifix @ Our Lady Of Victories- my parish.

The (Continuing) Gift of My Youth

Sitting in adoration today, reflecting a bit on part of the homily the priest gave in the Mass preceding the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, I thanked God for the gift of my high school years. I thanked God not only for the gift to be alive, to have received an education (I do owe so much to St. Louis public education), but more specifically I thanked God for the goodness of those years. Even as I write this now, with barely 8 or 9 months of retrospective, I am aware that my gratitude/knowledge of these years will continue to deepen.

First of all, what do I mean by the "goodness" of those years? Well, I think a good introduction to these ¨"years" was highlighted about a year and a half ago when I visited the Dominican house of formation and a friar (now priest too) commented on a memory he had of me from my middle school years when every Sunday after Mass I`d eagerly and consistently ask apologetic-like faith questions to him and another Jesuit. He had a big smile on his face and mentioned that with such peculiar characteristic I was hard to forget. At the moment I just laughed but I was well aware that I owed much of this ¨"goodness" to God Himself and the people He placed in my path during those years.

High school was, for me, a sort of "dating" of religious life and, to my best attempt, a deepening into a transcendence, a reality, of God's existence in the world.. (in fact, here is a small excerpt from a paper I wrote freshman year about a visit to a Benedictine monastery, that expresses this raw and new "awe" well)

....They chanted with low and deep voices of comfort; quickly I became accustomed. I looked behind me and I stared attentively with awe and silence. A row of beautiful young nuns dressed in habit. A brown veil surrounded their faces while like the flicker of their own candles made their complexion flawless like those of holy saints. With a joy and equal solemnity they stood frozen in time captured in my mind by the glow of my own flickering candle.

I turned, but this time I stared at nothing. It was not an abyss but rather my mind searching within itself. I focused on a crystal window above the ruffled walls. The deep and rich chant continued with its demanding and reverent rhythm.

“♫ Evil bring death to the wicked. 
Those who hate the good doomed 
The Lord ransoms the souls of the servants 
Those who hide in him shall not be condemned ♫”

I listened and at that time I knew I did not understand anything. Everything I knew and did and held and fought for and worried about. Everything I experienced and loved and desired was condensed, compressed in that second. It was compressed in the sound, the thickness of the chant itself. Every thought ended there and yet it emerged from it as well. I began to wonder, as that second passed and the significance expanded from that building upon a direction I didn’t know. I didn’t worry but instead I wrapped myself in every word since I knew this wouldn’t be outside, there society awaited me and this wouldn’t be, not there. Insanity, I recognized reality and I didn’t want to let it go.

For some reason unknown to me, my heart and mind, in those crazy years of high school, were captured wholly into a very honest view of the world and myself within the boundaries of maturity of a 14-18 year-old. And I emphasize (again) that how or why this was touches me deeply. I know full well my ingratitude in prayer to God for this, a grace I've yet to most responsibly penetrated. I have no idea why I wasn't absorbed in the vanities of competitive running (I am a proud graduate of my high school's Cross-Country program), or the competitive spirit of academics (although I was proud to have graduated top 10 of the nearly 500 in my class), or the demand of social activities for Student Counsel (although I deeply enjoyed my post as one of the directors)... or why in the midst of issues like homosexuality, separated parents, immigration disappointments (etc) there was always a graced constancy and hope as well as people (rather blessings!) who became loved companions in the pilgrimage of those "high school" years.

The "goodness" of those high school years perplexes me. My enthusiasm for "nun runs", my huge interest of theology/catechism, my overall blessed and holy experience of those troublesome years, makes me more aware that such "goodness" arrived directly from the goodness and great tenderness of God himself. Sure, call it a somewhat unusual public high school experience but would I have won this neat little award had it been any other way? ;-)

 Before ending this little post I hope that it goes without saying that I by no means imply I was a sort sinless/flawless high schooler. God knows that couldn't be further from the truth! We all have our own "demons" to affront in our journey towards holiness and these were fully and boldly present during those years!

Anyhow here are other wonderful images that further express the "goodness" of those years:

 "Rejoice, O young man, in your youth, and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth. Walk in the ways of your heart and the sight of your eyes. But know that for all these things God will bring you into judgment. "Ecclesiastes 11:9

Celebrating my 18th Birthday with my parish family (2010)

A quick photo with the Alton Franciscans, group I got to know in my high school years 

(2011)

Joining the Nashville Dominicans at the Pro-Life March (D.C. 2011)

Awkward photo with some great SJ's (2008?)

A "nun look-alike" from a friend. Mine is hidden somewhere and will never come to see the light of day I promise! ;)

Little Ms. Gonzalez and I at a Vocation Summer Camp (2007)

Eight Months ....

First of all, happy 2012 to anyone that reads this humble space!

Few quick thoughts on this new year:

I'm learning every day (quite literally), learning through experiences, in joys and sorrows, and many other blessings (hidden ones sometimes!) that I am allowed to be part of in what this human experience is. I am just so blessed to be alive! I am blessed to be aware of this and to have the gift of my youth and intelligence to better, to more fully, more radically, more deeply seek Him and thus be MORE alive, to be more authentic; to be more authentically His beloved.


However this post is about a date: eight months. (Over) Eight months ago God led me to this extraordinary place and quite bluntly, forced me on a plane, nearly kicking and screaming. I was afraid, it wasn't what I wanted one bit, it wasn't what I had hoped for, it wasn't what my heart longed for and I froze, back home, at the simple thought it was my reality. One could put a more political/social story-telling of this event that is neither isolated nor unique. We could speak about distribution of wealth, immigration laws between Mexico and the U.S., about myself and others but whatever was going on in the fear before embarking in this journey was something that once I touched ground slowly unfolded into the place I am now and faded into acceptance.

My point being; this is a journey, a messy one that is most incarnate, most human, with laws and people and longings and real tears, real paralyzing fear and real experiences that shape very very real souls. Searching the internet (and old e-mail archives) I found a story I wrote 2 years ago for a blog that still runs about undocumented youth in New York City. It had probably been two years since I had also seen this page but these words from my past self struck me:

I guess I am one of the millions who anguish about the “what will be”.
Currently a junior in high school I try my best to have the confidence that something WILL happen in 2010 and that I will be one of the lucky few that would benefit right away from the Dream Act because of my age. I think about it every single day, I think about me getting closer to 18 and what that means legally...... Like everyone I am just terrified........I can’t imagine going back and leaving this whole life story behind forever since it is my whole life story.

I can certainly still recognize the fear, the instability that it brought to my own sanity and ability to plan future goals. However, it has been over 8 months and I can honestly say that I could have never imaged where I am now, spiritually and also physically, back then. There is something quite interesting in my fear then, something most natural really, I felt a deep deep ownership of the place I was in. I felt it was mine, I loved (love) it deeply and I figured it was most naturally source of identity and of where I was meant to be. The thought I'd leave it was the thought perhaps I would lose who I was and who I wanted to be. Yes, it has been over 8 months of not seeing my parents and sister, and yes, it's a much much longer wait until I see them again. Yes, it has been a semester of NOT being at the American university I desired. Yes, it has been over 8 months of not having the chance to speak with people, to be fully present to them, as I desired to spend this time in my youth in.Yes it has been over 8 months of actively living a reality 2 years ago I didn't foresee.  But really, the journey, these months, approaching a year now, has been of detachment, a painful one and practical one, and growing confidence in God's goodness and wisdom. I take one step, mile by mile, and I realized that my identity, my joy, my ability to love and be loved and perfecting both being loved and this love, is not attached to a place in particular. It is an image of a pilgrim, who only carries with him his pack, and goes on, purely and most honestly, by the great mercy of God.

North St. Louis- Fall 2009, During a St. Louis Youth Leadership Experience