THE THREE-DAY PREPARATION for Pray40Days (tremendous thanks to Ate Myla), delivered what it promised (and what she hinted at). From the overview to the five Ps of prayer (Place, Posture, Preparation, Passage, Presence) to helpful tips on sustaining a daily habit of prayer (reinforcing my steady stream of consciousness for it), I negotiated my way to yesterday’s second day armed with a hopeful thanksgiving prayer to the Father for His abiding company.
From the Examen prayer, repeating “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner” every so often, the process pretty much wrapped itself around me I looked forward to offering my gratitude, petition, discernment, forgiveness and resolution each preparatory night. Conveniently, the app has a space for a journal I took to it thankfully as an electronic chronicler of my solitary sessions with the Father to save me the strain of note-taking, which I chose to sustain anyway. The guided meditation I’m still trying to get the hang of, praying like a pirate just dawned on me (thanks to wikipedia) as an ARRR meditation, followed by Lectio Divina, praying with my senses and the final contemplative prayer. The experience was heady without a hangover.
My first day, by the mere mention of Holy Land, moved me. I acknowledged that because of the constant, current yearning to go there. People I know who have been there exude an aura, a glow of holiness. Probably because they have seen the places where Joseph, Mary and Jesus have been, walked the ground they trod, and blessed those by merely being. I so long to see, feel and hear their experiences and be able to acquire the same aura of holiness.
Relating to forgiveness, I no longer have no one and nothing to forgive, having let go and God of the negativities in my heart and immediately apologizing for the residual resentments that somehow insist and, therefore, need to be purged again. I texted my friend Kuya Gemer to say I’m sorry. If he didn’t forgive me, I’ll understand. What I texted him (in reaction to his well-meaning message) was insulting and unthinkable (now that I’m able to think). He is justified by his silence (only my perception of his not communicating). I will feel sorry and repeat telling him and resolve to never repeat the foolish, insensitive remark.
What I received was his reply that it was okay and he is used to my jokes. He blanketed my uncalled-for remark with his fraternal, saving description of it.
My response was admitting that I was pissed when I said what I said and apologized again. Like the real friend that he is, he said he was looking forward to my upcoming birthday. I believed his honesty. And regretted the irony that what trigerred my nastiness was rendered unnecessary and useless because it was foremost in his mind. The exchange, especially my nasty retort, seemingly never happened.
Yesterday was our BEC bible-sharing. Where before, I would read up the Gospel for Sunday and prepare notes for my sharing (I can compose offhand any topic but it’s another thing to verbalize it to an audience. Worse, I’d start with notes, leave them as my second wind gains, but ramble later without them, ruefully wishing I’d have said much more substance had I been more confident. I’m a sorry case for extemporaneous exercises. I gave up memorization because it leaves me a feeling of insincerity afterwards. Unarguably, nothing beats that which comes from the heart. No matter how naturally I send my mind’s message across, I cannot lie to myself that the effort will appear contrived, at least in my feeling. Such is the misfortune of the unlearned. It, therefore, surprised me a little that, minutes before our virtual meeting, I prepared my ipad, briefly read Sunday’s Gospel, did not write anything, and was decidedly, delightfully ready for the encounter. Why? Because I was armed with still fresh residue of yesterday’s bible. Amen.