Focus on the Heart

My God is a sneaky one. There are times when I’m so pre-occupied with a million and one tasks I forget that one thing He has called me to do – write. You know what He does? He sends me experiences so moving that my insides will burst like popcorn if I don’t write about them. The incidents range from the spiritually sublime to the downright infuriating.

This week, He did it again. He prodded me to write Guideline #2 for my “Manual for Servant Leaders Who Insanely Love to Serve God Despite Harassments and Frustrations” (working title). I’m kidding. Scrap the word “prodded”. "Tasered" describes the experience better. The struggle to keep the peace and my cool, to continue loving my siblings in Christ and at the same time nurture those the Lord has given me to shepherd was so unnerving I couldn’t sleep for two nights.

Upon reflection, the Lord once again impressed on me that He allows these things to happen for a reason. The fruit of this experience was a rich harvest of lessons learned. And so I have Guideline #2: Focus on the heart of the servant. When a servant leader is faced with what he or she perceives to be imperfections – even in other ministry’s affairs – (be it a wrong color, sub-standard design, conflicting schedules, erroneous sentence construction, noise, mess, character flaws, etc., etc.) look to the heart of the servant. If there is goodness of intention, zeal and passion to serve present there then everything else becomes a minor, minor thing.

Yes, correction is needed if there is cause. From the book “The Way of the Shepherd”, a gift from a loving sister in my community, I read pain must sometimes be inflicted (perhaps in the form of “reprimands or poor performance reviews”). In Chapter 3, “Help Your Sheep Identify With You”, the story was told about a ewe whose ear had to be tagged to identify it as belonging to a flock. The shepherd had to hold the ewe tight to tag it. Later, the shepherd held the ewe again but this time to comfort it. Both times, the sheep was held close – the “first to cause pain” and the next “to offer encouragement”. The lesson given was “for great leaders, leadership isn’t just professional; it’s personal.”

Taking that lesson out of the corporate world and applying it to community service, I will rephrase that as: for servant leaders, leadership is less professional; it’s more personal. I remember this line from a mass song: “I will hold Your people in my heart.”

Another thought flashed in my head as I prayed about the situation: focus on the heart of the servant to keep it from being broken irreparably. Handle it carefully like fragile china. Undue criticism could after all dampen the spirit of a volunteer. Let me stress this vital point: community servants are volunteers. Their only compensation is love.

The calm slowly creeping inside me as I write this is proof positive that the Lord tasered me just to get this guideline recorded. And so I pray that the next guideline He sends will descend upon me from a serene cloud of wisdom. My servant leader’s heart is fragile too.

Delegate Work, Cascade Love

“Whoever believes in me believes not only in me but also in the one who sent me, and whoever sees me sees the one who sent me.” – John 12:44-45

A degree in management, a corporate background and masters in business develop a certain mindset for running an organization or a team. It is structured and disciplined. The head gives the directives which the subordinate is mandated to follow. There are of course different management styles – autocratic, democratic, paternalistic and a couple of other “-atics”. But the underlying idea is “You don’t like the way we run things, you may apply with the company in the next building.”

So it becomes quite a shock to the system when a corporate person gets into running the Lord’s business. You are no longer the boss, you are a servant leader. The people under you can’t be fired when they don’t do the job. They must be loved and nurtured into service.

For two years now, I’ve been serving as Ministry Head for the Feast Alabang and I’m fascinated with the art of managing fellow servants. A distant star in my canopy of dreams is to write a manual about this topic. I’m taking my first step by writing down this reflection:

In the May 18, 2011 Companion, the intro to the First Reading said: “We see in the ministry of Paul that he works closely with a very limited number of collaborators…his key collaborators or missioners are few…Perhaps simplicity is essential to the successful proclamation of the Gospel.” In management, the collaborators would be assistants or deputies. I’m reminded of my Feast Alabang Media Ministry (or what my members and I lovingly call our FAMMily) and the team heads I’ve appointed. The message for me here is to keep that simple structure and delegate to the team heads.

But since we are missioners sent by Jesus to spread His word, work is not the only thing we have to pass on. His love must also be seen in the way we deal with our fellow servants. As one of my favorite lines go, “our lives may be the only Bible other people will read.” Love then is essential in this type of management style. Bonds must also be strengthened among the members so that work in the Lord’s vineyard will be a joy to do. It’s such a simple principle but many times in the stresses of service, it has been forgotten.

Guideline #1 for my manual is Delegate Work, Cascade Love. I’m looking for more. Insights are welcome :)

Lucky Me

“Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.” – John 6:27

“Walang suwerte (unlucky)”. This was a balikbayan uncle’s recent label for me. He was probably moved with pity in what he perceived to be my lot in life. I was widowed at a very young age. My newfound career is in its infancy so I’m obviously not rolling in money (yet). Status. Career. Wealth. These were his parameters for a charmed life. In his world, the “lucky” ones were his nieces on my aunt’s side of the family. A lucky niece (very much like Cinderella) married into one of the richest families in the country, has successful businesses and is insanely wealthy. There are other nieces gainfully employed in airline or realty companies and who enjoy good salary and great benefits. He seemed perplexed that I don’t go to the office and barely comprehended that my work was online. No wonder he branded me “unlucky”.

Years ago I would probably have agreed with him and proceeded to indulge in a bout of self-pity. But even I was surprised with my quick rejoinder, “Oh no, I’m actually very lucky. I’m super blessed!” I guess my mindset changed after being in community for 8 years and actively serving in Feast Alabang for close to 2 years. The teachings I have received in all that time has changed my perception of luck. I have learned to appreciate the blessings that I enjoy: children, parents, a serene family life, loving and supportive friends in community, doing work that I love and am good at, a comfortable home, abundant provisions, good health and many more that I don’t have the time to list here. In the current Feast series, Seasons, we were taught that Spring is a time to plant and we should not envy others who may already be in other seasons in their life. My harvest is still coming. So in my world, I consider myself lucky.

Above all these is the fact that I am living a life close to God. Hey, I’m still a work in progress so I’m far from perfect but the lucky thing is that my construction is in the hands of THE Master Planner. Another thing I learned is we need to plant ourselves close to the stream or the Blesser. I actually felt sad for my uncle because in our conversation I realized that he does not actively seek God. Lucky me, I’m working for the one who blesses me and for food that endures for eternal life.

I Am…Blessed

Fatima Soriano's laughter tinkled like the chimes in my lanai stirred by a gentle breeze of hope. Her joy resonated at the slightest hint of humor or an "alleluia" moment. How could she exude so much joy when she wouldn't be able to do as other soon-to-be debutantes like her would? She wouldn't be able to marvel at the colors of her gown, behold a frothy birthday cake or pirouette at her cotillion. She is blind and had endured end stage renal disease with its attendant 5-a-day dialysis. But there she was - a charming bundle of serenity though afflicted with a condition that would make many people bitter. (I felt shame as I remember the many times I've complained over lesser things.) Even the fact that she couldn't accept the corneas of AJ Perez did not dampen her spirit (it was retinas she needed you see). She also graciously posed for pictures with fans even if she was already tired from praying over the sick and the troubled.

And the girl could sing. Multiply her about a dozen or so times and one can imagine what a choir of angels would sound like. Our guest speaker, Fr. Jerry Orbos, brought Fatima with him on Black Saturday, Day 3 of I Am…Jesus, the Way, the Truth and the Life, Feast Alabang's Lenten Recollection. Listening to her was a privilege. Serving as her and Fr. Jerry's PA (program assistant, personal assistant or parang alalay ) was a blessing.

Being their PA was as much of a privilege as being one of the emcees on Holy Thursday. That was a blessing too - I did not fall, trip, faint, embarrass myself or even get the jitters in front of a crowd of more than 1,500 that filled the San Beda Alabang Chapel to overflowing. Our pre-event anointing and the prayers of our Intercessory Ministry must've been so powerful, my co-host, Israel, and I survived unscathed. Day 1 of the recollection also blessed us with deep reflections sandwiched between slices of hilarity given by our Feast builder, Arun Gogna, and Fr. Erick Santos.

I regret that I missed Day 2 of the recollection on Good Friday with Kerygma preacher Jon Escoto and Fr. Jade Licuanan. But I did not want to break a family tradition that we've practiced for 25 years - Visita Iglesia. It was a blessing to tick off another year. The ritual started with just my late husband and me when I was heavy with our first child. Then our babies in strollers, their yayas and my parents joined us. The tradition remained anchored amidst waves of change - the loss of my husband, the yayas gone with the wind and my sons going from toddlers running around the Stations of the Cross to young boys leading the prayers to grown-ups driving for us to 7 churches.

I ended the Lenten season with a rousing Easter Sunday together with my Light of Jesus (LOJ) Family. All the Feasts in Metro Manila and neighboring provinces gathered for "Full Life", LOJ's Grand Easter Celebration in SMX. Bo Sanchez declared, "You will not stay in Good Friday forever. Sunday is coming!" That, I claim, as I feel I am already experiencing Saturday with the many blessings knocking at my door. They just need to step in so I can proclaim, "Sunday is here!"

Love Duplicated

The email moved me. It was an appeal to help a brother from another Feast with his expenses for a kidney transplant. He dropped by our center once as he just came from his dialysis nearby. He was a pleasant man and his condition saddened me. I wanted so much to help. I marked the email “unread” so I won’t forget and mentally set aside an amount to give.

Another message came into my inbox. This time it was a request for prayers for one of my ministry member’s father. He needed an emergency operation. Aside from offering prayers I also felt God’s prodding to help in a more practical way. All I had left in my budget for love offering was the amount I already earmarked for the first appeal. I planned to half it so I can give both but felt that was too paltry to make a difference. I decided to give it all to my member. She was closer to my heart.

While singing with the choir that Sunday, I espied the brother needing the transplant among the attendees. My heart bled. I had no more to give. I offered a silent prayer for him and lifted my wish to the Lord to grant me the ability to help. As we sang during worship, the Lord impressed on me to go ahead and give what I had planned anyway. I had the money stashed in my wallet marked with a mental note: “For extreme emergency only. Burn in hell if you use this for frivolities.” That was what I decided to donate.

Soon after, I received two dividend checks and a small windfall from my balikbayan uncle. Ten percent of these blessings was exactly the amount of my emergency stash that I donated. The Lord duplicated my love offering like the loaves and fishes. He granted my wish to be able to love more people in practical ways.

A Stroll in a Prayer Garden

The road snaked – a couple of turns too many for my comfort. Panic mode. I left my motion sickness pills at home. I didn't know I’d need them. Nobody said anything about a zigzag to Infanta, Quezon. The driver said there are actually two sets of zigzags. I’m doomed.

I whipped out my quantum necklace at my cousin Belle’s prodding. This better work or I’m returning it. I pressed it to my wrist right above the pulse. That’s supposed to be the acupressure point to combat motion sickness. What do you know, it worked! Whether it was the necklace or the acupressure that held the dizziness at bay, I didn’t care. All I cared about was being able to enjoy the scenery in the town of Real where the seashore hugged the road like a besotted lover. The road and the beach lay side by side for quite a stretch giving us a panoramic view of waves crashing on sand.

The way to my aunt’s Pag-ibig Prayer Garden is like life’s journey. There are many twists and turns. You find relief when it straightens up only to find another set of trials that turn your stomach inside out. Then you reach the end. It’s heaven – there is peace, there is serenity, there is beauty that gives a comforting embrace.

At the Prayer Garden, our Lord welcomed us to the “Upper Room” where he sat alone at the table. Untypical of the Last Supper, this one invites twelve “apostles” to sit with Him. Guests become part of the picture instead of just being on the outside looking in on the first Eucharist. One can even take a nap on the Lord’s lap after a meal – like a child on a parent’s knee.

And I needed that nap. The meal was sumptuous with freshly caught crabs, prawns and giant talakitok. Belle & I even got an after dessert treat – the chance to once again taste katmon, a tart fruit from our childhood found only in Quezon (I think).

Later, we strolled around the garden and merged into biblical and other saintly scenes:

Slept with the apostles as Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane;

Stood as our Lord’s ninang at His baptism in the Jordan;

Sat with Mary as she watched Joseph and Jesus at play;

Read with St. Clare as she reviews her Rule of Life, the first monastic rule reputed to be the first written by a woman;

Marveled at St. Peter’s attempt to walk with Jesus on water.

The Prayer Garden not only soothes and refreshes ones faith, it also inspires reflection.

Hope Afloat

Walking on water.

Strong wind swirls waves. Faith submerges.

His hand a lifeline.

My Lord calms the raging storm,

washes away regret. Hope.

A Time of Refreshing

“We have a meeting tonight.” Sigh. “There’s a new assignment for Media Ministry.” Whimper. “Sis, can you help with this project?” Groan. Much as I love serving at the Feast Alabang I still felt the early warning signs of service fatigue like a tsunami alert.

But you know that passage in the Bible that says the Lord cannot be out-given? Once again this truth manifested in a wonderful way when I went to Baguio last week.

I was hesitant to join the trip. Reason # 1: the added expense. (Remember me, the obsessive-compulsive budgeter?) Reason # 2: our numbers dwindled as Mar. 17 approached. How much fun can it be with just a handful joining Bro Arun and his family for his Lenten Recollection talks? Reason # 3: our car is in the province. A taxi would be my ride from our drop-off point. Not a nice scenario when I reviewed my shopping list.

With no graceful way to back out, I had to go. Besides, it’s been 22 (or is it 23?) years since I went up to the City of Pines. My husband was still alive, my sons were still toddlers and Hyatt Terraces was still the place to stay. And my last criteria for going on trips with zigzags, boat or plane rides was met. My motion sickness pills that I can only get from the U.S. have not expired.

Going was an inspired decision. Wave after wave of blessings engulfed our trip. I only have one word to describe it – perfect. There’s no other word fit for this gift from God.

Perfect, because our reduced number allowed us to fit into one van. Travelling together was more fun. There was also no hassle coordinating different vehicles. Most of all, it was a chance to bond with people I usually see only during service and community activities. It was a road trip punctuated with lots of laughter – funny catch phrases like “Bente pesos!” from our UKay queen and threats to provide me with a catheter the next time we travel. The last issue made hair-raising by suspected ghostly encounters in the Recoletos’ toilet.

Perfect, because of the generous hearts that treated us to dinner on both nights (Don Henrico's & Rose Bowl) and a sumptuous buffet breakfast at Baguio Country Club. We were like overstuffed sausages ready to burst but we just had to try everything. Several blueberry Danish pastries had my name on them and I couldn’t resist their sinful temptation.

Perfect, because it was not just a pleasure trip but also a chance to serve in ways we don’t normally do at the Feast Alabang. Chris and Mandy danced during Bro Arun’s talk in front of a host of strangers. Something they only do with family and friends. Lallaine, Cora, Lani, Josie and I were salesgirls at the book table. We prayed that almost all the books and CDs will be sold to have space for the jams, peanut brittle, brooms, vegetables and my favorite succulent strawberries that we can’t leave Baguio without. God answered that prayer. The book table was mobbed.

We all felt the same way – it was a blessings-filled trip. And the fun didn’t stop in Baguio. Lunch at Isdaan in Gerona, Tarlac was wacky with crazy poses and serenades by the Salbabida Boys and the Cumbancheros. The second group sent us into stitches with their version of “ABC” and “Ten Litter Indians” for Helene and Yohan.

There was more blessings overflow. My total expenses fell way below my budget. IC, Chris & Lani’s son, saved me from lugging all my extra baggage by giving me a lift home. To top it all, my team heads and members stepped in and ably steered the Media Ministry in my absence.

Perfect trip. Abundant blessings. It was a time of refreshing for a tired soul. I’m now “Happy to serve” (clap, clap) again. Not just in my beloved Feast Alabang but also in Feast Vietnam and Feast Bohol. Wink.