PARADOXICAL

(This is a continuation from yesterday's post.)

In my particular situation at this point in my life, I found that there are only a few things that can console me.

- Healing masses by Fr. Fernando Suarez and other ‘healing priests’
- Friends, namely the very few friends who really dare ask how I am, and particularly the ones who offer intercessory prayer (I believe in intercession, so this is much appreciated) and even ask how they can help; the three friends who actually show up at my door, sometimes bearing gifts, and a few others who signified willingness to do so but I won’t allow them due to extreme embarrassment; male friends who exhort me to take courage – it’s different when it’s the men who do it, and when it’s someone who I know have been through or is going through a terrible trial just like me, who have surrendered themselves to God and are actively serving God and yet... (Praise and worship in the middle of comfort and consolation is simply is not convincing for me, for I’ve been there and I saw how easy it is.)
- Concrete help (mostly from my pastoral leader and from my younger brother)
- The little miracles: seeing Pope John Paul II on TV, which leaves me crying for no reason; old clients suddenly asking my help for a fee, ambulant merchants carrying the goods my way (I’m still afraid to walk far from home); friends and strangers telling their own tales that resemble mine; TEDx Talks about hardship that inspire; waking up to love songs I never cared about in waking life; encountering Biblical passages or any text that jump out of the print and make me feel strengthened, stimulated to live again

All of these I regard as little gestures of God that tell me God is walking through my darkest moments.