Author: Jesse Roca

Divided. Distracted. Detached. This is what I’ve been for the past few months.

Those who know me well can attest to the fact that I haven’t really been myself lately. In a conscious effort to remain cautious and vague in sharing personal details of my life on the internets, I’ll just say that I was going through one of the most intense struggles of choice that I’ve ever experienced.

In spite of the uncertain state that I found myself in day in and day out for the past few months, I continued to ACT like myself. I would try — to the very best of my abilities — to continue being the pensive, sometimes awkward, sometimes surprisingly offensive, externally considerate and internally inconsiderate person (all the while feeling naturally inclined to fight my nature) that I’ve grown into over my 26 years of life.

But I was never really here.
Where have I gone?

—

I used to believe that satisfaction of circumstance could be reinforced by choice, and while this can be valid in some situations, relying on this mindset as a means to ultimate satisfaction has only led me to feeling lost in my own ability to make choices.

Recent and significant life conflicts (and I’m continuing to remain intentionally vague), have caused quite a stir in my prayer life lately. So at the suggestion of an important brother in my life, I chose to not dwell on the choices I had to make, and instead just focus on what the Lord wants for me.

So. A few weeks ago, in a moment of complete surrender (again, remaining vague), the Lord made it abundantly clear that my decisions mean nothing, and that what He’s given me is worth everything.

And now I’m back. I’m here.

– Jesse R.
“I Am, and We are Missionaries”

On an otherwise typical Sunday afternoon, I was walking leisurely by myself in a crowded place. The cool summer air blew, bringing along with it the slight fragrance of flowers. As I approached a street corner, I stopped, yielding to oncoming traffic — that which of course had the right of way. At that moment, for no apparent reason, I suddenly imagined a little boy standing next to me.

His name was David, I knew that he was my son.

As the crowd of people around us waited patiently for our turn cross the street, a tennis ball came seemingly out of nowhere and caught the attention of my son. As innocent, naive and ignorant as he was, he dashed after the tennis ball narrowly avoiding the oncoming traffic. My heart dropped and a sigh of relief escaped my body as I saw the traffic lights turn green.

Then without warning, an unremarkable car, like any other — in which I can only imagine was trying to beat the yellow light from moments before — came out of nowhere and hit my son.

And there it was, the cool summer air once again blowing, this time carrying the scent of death.

As I heard tires come to a screeching halt, I ran over to David clutching him in my arms, tears in my eyes and a terrible pain in my heart causing my entire being to tremble uncontrollably. I turned around to see the man who hit my son get out of his car, a single tear running down his face. That’s all I needed to see.

I walked over to this man, and fighting every instinct in my body, I hugged him. How shaken must his soul be after doing what he did? How could he forgive himself for what he’s done if I can’t be there to forgive him first, and help him forgive himself?

Suddenly, as if nothing happened I snapped back to reality. Standing on the same street corner I realized that no more than 5 seconds had passed, yet I felt a deep longing to lift up a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord for how he forgives me time and time again.

– – – –

This waking dream illustrates my desire to be a forgiving person, but when it comes time to test my character, will expectation meet reality?

Only if I recognize our capacity for forgiveness, found in the Lord.

– Jesse R.
“I Am, and We are Missionaries”

I’ve lost it.

Somewhere in the last few months I’ve changed. Now, I don’t consider change in and of itself to be an inherently good OR bad thing, but this most recent internal change has probably been for the worse (for lack of a more appropriate, less subjective word). My circumstance has changed, and as a result, so have I.

I need to find it.

—

Over the past few months I’ve sort of been left to my own devices. Hannah, my girlfriend of 9 years has moved to Vancouver for the mission, and I’ve fully transitioned into the SFC ministry, which means that I don’t see my main circle of friends from the CFC-Youth Area Core as often as I was used to. As a result of both of these major changes in my life, my prayer life has taken a severe hit.

Without being constantly surrounded by the individuals that I’ve journeyed with for the past few years, I’ve found myself standing in still waters. Ambiguity aside, I basically haven’t been seeking the Lord as actively as I could have been. I feel like I’m not being challenged.

I miss having good ol’ fashioned God talks. Random conversations that lead to sharing about how the Lord reaches out to us personally, it means the most hearing these stories from the people I love.

So as luck would have it, today, one of my oldest friends in the community, Ellish Maigue-Talacca (one of True North’s newest Full-Time Pastoral Workers) called me randomly while she was in a McDonalds and we ended up having a good talk for about 2 hours, the entire time we spoke I felt at home.

Even though Ellish is currently in Vancouver and I’m home in Montreal, I experienced the joys of the community expressed through the simple act of conversation. Ellish was able to challenge me because I invited the Lord into that conversation, and after hearing Ellish recount her adventures of Full-Time training in the Philippines and other random anecdotes, I was once again filled with inspiration and hope that this community will continue to challenge me as a man of God, regardless of circumstance.

I’ve lost my goodness, but I trust that the Lord will help me find it in this community.

– Jesse R.
“I Am, and We are Missionaries”

Isn’t it curious that one can feel alone even whist in a crowded room? And more-so, a relational antonym — that which exists only within the context of a given relationship — for feeling alone, would be that of feeling loved. Funny.

The ambiguity of language is what enables a wide range of thought, and rather unfortunately by consequence, can — but not necessarily does — limit how we process emotion.

– –

Black and white, from sea to sky, alone and loved.

The beauty of language and its ability to have a hand in our emotions can be attributed largely in part to the result of having defined opposites. White is not simply “not-black”, which reinforces the beauty of a relationship, and for the sake of my argument, the beauty of antonyms. The existence of one cannot be fully appreciated without affirming the value of the other.

Just because I may feel alone, I cannot, and will not, be defined as “not-loved”.

– Jesse R.
“I Am, and We are Missionaries”

Pretension carries with it a hint of the negative. It’s as if to aspire or to make claim of something greater should be looked down upon. How dare I step out of line? How dare I not meet the expectations that have been placed on me by others? How dare I?!? And so we’re inclined to defer, to hold of, to shelve actively seeking that which might satisfy our desires in lieu of resting calmly and gently on the surface.

I am so bored.

Pretension carries with it a hint of the negative, but there’s an upside.

– –

What is this for? Is this simply a machine meant to reaffirm my personal prayer life? Or is it the opposite, that which can function to truly and unabashedly make way for an authentic, intellectual, yet self-aware — by means of recognizing circumstance — relationship with the Lord?

Who cares about the little details that have led me to know Christ more? Do my experiences even hold the slightest potential of alignment towards another’s journey to knowing the workings of God in our shared existence? Maybe. But are we then simply just piecing together little bits of our neighbours experiences for our own advantage whether ambiguous or definitive? Are we, and do I, simply take what I please from others without every truly knowing them? Or worse… without ever truly loving them?

Do I know and love those whom I take from?

Metaphor, simile and analogies are selfish constructs of the mind with no real assuredness of affiliation to the source.

And so I ask again, do I know and love those whom I take from?

Let’s talk. There lies the upside.

– Jesse R.
“I Am, and We are Missionaries”

Have a listen.

 

“I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.” Radiohead. “Creep.” Pablo Honey. Parlophone Records Ltd, 1993.

I am not a good man. I want to have control.

Who I am is unarguably just a result of circumstance and consequence. Some might be so inclined as to attribute every action and reaction to a divine plan of sorts, and while I do align with that camp for the most part, there are just some days where I’m simply in love with the idea of life in un-compromised chaos.

– –

I want a perfect body.

Call it conditioning… call it brainwashing… call it whatever you want, the reality is that I have desires. When I say that I want a perfect body, I’m of course speaking in the figurative sense in relation to my worldly existence. Should I be concerned that my mind has been exposed to and poisoned by the — for lack of a more appropriate word — “secular” world in my 26 years of life? Is who I am as a person something to be ashamed of? Or rather, should my thoughts, my actions and everything in-between be applauded solely for the fact that it has led me to the pursuit of desire, that to which may occasionally miss the mark? Should that matter?

As much as it pains me to say, I am not a naturally compassionate person. In any given situation I find myself internally fighting my natural inclination, which is more often than not what most of us in the community would consider “bad” behaviour. And so, I am a bad man, fighting his nature. So what am i doing here? I don’t belong.

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I want a perfect soul. It’s what I choose to strive for.

—

God is un-compromised chaos, and He’s in control.

Jesse R.
“I Am, and We are Missionaries”

It started with a bow.

As I looked up and met the eyes of the Eucharistic minister I was distracted by the haunting ensemble that was tasked with filling Mary Queen of the World with song.

“Amen” I uttered, moments before I placed an unassuming piece of bread into my mouth.

Kneeling down my hands fell on the aged wood of the pew resting before me. As I closed my eyes my sense of touch erupted, suddenly realizing how textured and worn the wood felt.

Was I the first to place my hands here? Surely not. Would I be the last? Not even close.

As my hands gently swayed left to right, with each motion finding new and unintended details in the cracks I thought to myself, “This might be how a blind man sees.”

There was very little taste in the communion wafer, but as I prayed to the Lord, desperate to feel some kind of emotional reaction during my time in prayer I heard Him say, “That’s not really what you need.”

Suddenly realizing that the limited sensation experienced during communion would be the absolute closest representation to a full sensation of Christ, my heart found peace.

And so I chuckled briefly under my breath and thought, “My God, you’ve made a blind man see.”