Believe in Something MORE

A certain meme set off my sarcastic side* today. Here it is with my response all over it:

Don’t always believe in yourself — always believe in something MORE!

In case you can’t read the heresy, it says with much naivete: “A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking, because her trust is not on the branch but on its own wings. Always believe in yourself.”

There are a half dozen things wrong with the claim. I’ll let you figure out the others after I share the big one:

I don’t believe in myself. I know that sounds like I have a major lack of self-esteem, but it’s more than that. I don’t believe in myself because I’m only human!

I make more mistakes than good calls. I miss more opportunities than I can remember, and the fact that I can’t remember (because of my limited mortal brain) makes me even less reliable.

I’d much rather believe in Him who is forever greater than me, because I am so limited, selfish, mortal and sinful. Even if I do believe in myself, without the Lord, there’s not much to believe in… (sorry to bust your bubble! I’m not God, and you aren’t either. I can prove it: one day we’ll both be dead! What’ll we believe in then? A corpse?!)

Every success I have in my life has been because the Holy Spirit has helped me. Either through others (like my parents, family, friends…) or directly (like when I get random awesome ideas and surges of motivation that zip in from nowhere)!

So next time you need to believe in yourself, actually pray that God helps you to believe in yourself, because your lazy and forgetful self will probably stop believing pretty quick. (See what I did there? I blew up a contradiction.)

*Sorry for the sarcasm if it offended you. Occasional bursts of sarcasm are known to emit randomly from my highly critical mind.

Drink Drank Drunk

Once upon a time, a dear friend of mine turned 21. She, a few friends and myself went to celebrate at a bar. In general I find bars too noisy and distracting for good conversations, but I made an exception this time to go anyways.

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I do not mind legal drinking. I drink a bit myself.  Heck, even Jesus makes wondrous wine from waste water! And He turns ordinary wine into His Precious Blood! And if THAT’s what He meant by True Drink… well then gimme summa dat!

But seriously, what I do mind is when someone I love and care about can’t even understand what I’m saying to them. The alcohol blinds them from me, puts me on mute, and makes them dumb. I do not want my beloveds to become dumb – not even for a minute! If your friends/family wants you to go dumb, who needs enemies?

Sure, there’ll be laughs and giggles. But what is there to laugh about? THINK about it – it’s laughter at someone saying and doing stupid things they don’t even know they’re doing. And this person is someone you care about? Good way of showing it…

Then what if they get themselves hurt, in trouble, and do something irrevocable? Something they’ll regret? A fun time becomes a nightmare. A celebration becomes a wreck.

Maybe I’m just being picky, stubborn, overly serious, and am overreacting. But I just value sharing meaningful conversations with loved ones – and I want us both to remember the meaningful time.

Many things in life are painful – but none as much as being the only one who remembers something special.

Alone in a Crowd

[This was a post originally written March 14, 2011. A friend recently reminded me of it and here it is now for your reading consideration!]

Everybody Learn Heavenese!

Someone once challenged me that the English language cannot express everything — that it’s limited… like all languages are.

True.

That’s why we won’t be speaking English in Heaven (sorry British-accent lovers!).

But think about the reason why we have to learn languages in the first place… it’s because we’re not endowed with linguistic abilities at birth, at least not like we’re endowed with —

Before I finish that thought, think about this: you’re listening to a song in a language you have no idea how to use. The song seeps into you, and you start sleeping with the song on, driving with it on, dancing with it, and after a day or so… you start singing it in the shower, then wherever. Yes — it’s stuck in your head. EVEN THOUGH you don’t know the language. And even if you did, maybe there’s that one part where you’re not sure what they’re singing, and you make up words of your own.

Has that ever happened?

Happens to me all the time, especially since I semi-speak Cantonese, Vietnamese, and Mandarin (keyword: semi-speak). There’s always that line I’m not sure about, and I just blah and sing on – sing on… even those Latin words at Mass, even if my voice is an ear-ache, the song must be sung!

That’s it then: MUSIC. We’re endowed with musical abilities like no other creative essence. I can’t cite the sources, but I’ve heard so many times about the ways music and song effect life. Babies who can hardly speak can tell when a note skips in a song they’ve never heard before. Most animals in some veterinarian care are soothed by song and music – and interestingly, the harp is the second most potent instrument to soothe animals. The first is our human voice.

Our human voice is a powerful force, especially when we use it in Gregorian Chant. Research has shown that the chant of the Church has a healing and energetic effect on our physique. Prolonged exposure to the rhythms and prayers (especially when you chant them yourself) have been shown to cause monks to be alert, healthy, and happy — even if they sleep only two hours a day, never eat meat, and work hard labor! Check out this page for more.

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Music. Can’t see it, but it makes you see. A character in my first novel regains her sight partly from when she hears powerfully moving music. But you don’t have to be blind to see what music does for your eyes. It makes memories come back. The imagination tries to fit the tune with an event — a soundtrack. And what’s with soundtracks anyway? Watch a film in mute and how long will you stay awake for? Drive across the country without a CD or the radio and what’ll happen?

You can even feel music. The vibrations in the air wrap around you – tingles and tickles. Sometimes it beats on your heart and you wonder if it’s safe.

Then the music picks you up. Your fingers tap and snap, arms flail, shoulders hop, head whips, and your legs… and feet – they’re not just for transit after all. Suddenly you are a dancer — like when you were three and your mom or dad let you stand on their feet and held your hands up so you could waltz and tango.

But it’s just noise! ORGANIZED NOISE (keyword: organized)! And it’s an organization that babies are born able to recognize. So… if we’re born able to, then even a deaf baby can — even though they may never get the chance. But they can. That is key… that they can. Because organization means something caused it [noise] to be organized – something intelligent and creative… an ORGANIZER. Even a thunderstorm sings a song, but its song is less composed than a bird’s, and its is less composed than ours, and ours is less composed than…

And Music is what we speak in Heaven. Finally, we get our own soundtracks when we share our dramatic life story with others. We get to dozy-doe with billions of buddies, sing a musical with friends we never thought we’d see again, karaoke with the original artists themselves, and be as expressive as God made music to be. Why? Because everything about Heaven makes us more human than we are now. We are more ourselves then than we can ever be now.

Hope to see you there one day…

[Inspired by Dr. Peter Kreeft’s quote]
[FYI: ever wonder who set up the modern form of written music as we know it today? (It’s Guido D’Arezzo, a Benedictine monk)

[Psst, this is an edited re-post of a piece I wrote in Dec. 2009.]

Meeting Maria

QueenMotherIt was during my discernment year. I promised God if He helped me get my English degree, that I would set aside one whole year to see what my vocation was.

So at the end of the discernment year, in May 2011, I went on an eight-day Silent Retreat. I remember the morning of May 15th: thunderstorming. I woke up and was immediately tempted: “Evan, you don’t have to go to this retreat. You’re holy enough. You make your holy hours regularly, you pray often, you do so much good… just stay home and keep doing those things. You don’t need to go into this storm…”

But I sat up in bed and remembered, “But I told so many people I would be going… I told the priest, my parents, my siblings and friends… I’ll just go. For them.”

So I set out and drove two hours through downpour. It would end up raining for five out of the eight days.

When I arrived, the staff gave me orientation: the retreat house was in the woods, away from the main road, surrounded by trees, gardens and a pond. Inside the house, the bedrooms were each dedicated to a saint. One was for St. Anthony, another for St. Therese de Lisieux, one for St. Joseph. and the last one for St. Mary. I was given St. Joseph’s room and altogether, there were enough bedrooms for six other retreatants. That’s when the lady told me: “But you’re the only one who signed up for this week. You’ll have the whole house to yourself!”

Wow. All to myself. And here’s the routine:

  • 8:00am: Wake up, wash up, exercise.
  • 9:00am: Meet with the spiritual director, Father Dennis Brown, a priest of the Oblates of the Virgin Mary. He would guide me through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius for about 30-45 minutes, asking about my thoughts, concerns, hopes, etc. Very good priest he was, I will never forget him and will be indebted to him for a long time.
  • 10:00am: Mass. And it was just me and the priest. You can say that I really learned the responses of the Mass after that, and picked up some Latin too!
  • And after Mass, I was on my own. I wouldn’t see Fr. Dennis or anyone else until the next morning. It was up to me to keep up with the prayers and spiritual exercises.

But I constantly felt exhausted, constantly tempted to sleep away the entire retreat. The rainy weather made it worse. Every day was overcast, grey, and dark.

On my first whole day, I kept feeling paranoid. The silence made me start wondering about my thoughts… yes – I started thinking about my thoughts. I also had a strange experience: to help remind me of how much I need God, I would hold my breath while silently praying the Our Father. The prayer isn’t long, so this wasn’t difficult to do. The point: I rely on God for everything, including my next breath of air. If I finish this prayer and there’s no air, well… then God took it away.

So I started this prayer habit. I’ve never had breathing problems, and the first few times I did this was easy. But during the middle of the day on Tuesday – I blacked out. While kneeling before the tabernacle in prayer, I saw the ground rush up at me, over and over, but I never collapsed. It felt like my head was being jerked around, then I saw nothing. When I opened my eyes, I was perfectly fine and kneeling where I had been. Very strange…

Then came Wednesday, the 18th of May. I was wrapping up my morning spiritual exercises (and they ARE exercises… very tough and rigorous). The rain had finally let up outside, and I decided to go for a walk in the garden. I pulled out the Divine Mercy Chaplet and prayed. Around 4:00pm, I felt very tired again and decided to finish the prayer and take a nap. As I was going to my bedroom, I passed by the room dedicated to the Virgin Mary. I thought, “Well fine, I’ll pay the Queen a visit. Why not?”

When I entered her room, I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. Our Lady’s picture on the wall, I first saw it during orientation on Sunday, but it was not the same anymore. It was much more beautiful. The picture did not physically change, but my response to it changed… I felt her presence: a warm embrace, very peaceful, tender and gentle. I heard her voice touch my heart:

“Evan, my child… I love you. Why are you so anxious? So worried? Am I not yours? I will take care of you. I am your mother.” (Like St. Juan Diego’s encounter with Our Lady of Guadalupe!)

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And my worries disappeared. I felt safe. I felt guided. I stood there gazing at Mary for fifteen minutes, and I didn’t want to leave the room. I wanted to stay with her. But I knew I couldn’t just stay in the room forever, so I took the picture off the wall, embraced it and carried her into the chapel. I rearranged the furniture so that I could kneel at Mary’s feet while praying to Jesus in the Tabernacle.

That’s when the retreat changed. It became easy, sweet, and so productive. I read Scripture, but Our Queen was reading it to me! She helped me see myself in the stories: especially the Wedding at Cana (Not only do whatever He tells you, but also when He tells you…). She helped me examine my deepest conscience, and she dug up the secrets I buried so long ago that I even forgot them. But she didn’t embarrass me! She was so tender. It was so easy to talk with her, so easy to love her, so easy to let her love me.

Lovable.

I found out later that the day this happened was also Pope John Paul II’s birthday. I realized he must’ve asked Our Lady to pay her poor child a visit.

But since then, my devotion to Mary began. Before I met her, I didn’t really know her, and really didn’t think about her (I went into this retreat without anything Marian on my mind!). I was sometimes even annoyed by how much attention she got from others. But now I know… now I get why she’s so beloved. She is so beautiful. Now I’m a believer too. And now I’m convinced that she’s real. How can you deny someone exists if you’ve met them? And if Mary is real and alive, then so are the other saints, and if they are real, then the Church is real. It is true! Then God is real. This is all for real.

And every time I share this experience, I know the Queen is listening, making sure I don’t skip any details I should share. There are some personal things I leave out, but if you want to know, just ask me. I’ll be glad to share it in a more private way.

“Oh Mary,

conceived without sin,

pray for us who have recourse to thee.”

050_Coronation_of_Mary_detailHappy Coronation-of-Mary-as-Queen-of-Heaven-&-Earth Day!