Author: Jessica Salunga

He died at the age of 23. We met back in junior high. Though we lost connection as years passed by and our lives became polar opposites, he was still a dear friend to me and randomly bumping into him was a joyous encounter. I couldn’t believe it when I woke up Sunday morning, realizing that he was gone–shot in the neck and pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital. He pushed a friend out of the way and took the shot himself. Because he would. He loves those around him so much that he would literally give his life for them. When it comes down to it, most people wouldn’t.

I think there are a lot of people who have this ill-perceived judgment that people who get caught up in the streets are terrible, heartless thugs and that ‘they deserve whatever they have coming to them.’ But he wasn’t like that at all. In fact, most of them aren’t. If you took the time to get to know them, you’d find that they love their family and friends deeply and are always loyal. And just like most people, they too have experienced difficult situations.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t condone or support that ‘street life.’ In fact, i’ve actually experienced a lot of heartbreak and tears witnessing some of my friends be so caught up in it–sometimes to the extreme that they are in life-threatening situations or are imprisoned. Most people wouldn’t guess that some of them used to be heavily involved in their church(es), regularly attending bible study and singing as part of the praise and worship team. They’re just lost. And without the Lord, who among us wouldn’t be?

When I look at my own life, I thank and praise God for the gift of this community. It is within CFC-Youth that I first met the Lord and He used this community to relentlessly pursue me. Without this community, street life would undoubtedly be my lifestyle as well. And as cliche as it may sound: through the grace of God, I was saved. When I look at our youth, I realize that they too could have easily been caught up in it. And  the reality is that, for some, it may actually be at this current moment, whether or not they’re ready to approach us about it.

The death of my friend was like a huge blow to my stomach. I realized the severity of our calling to evangelize, serve, and love the youth. More importantly, I realized that the Lord asks us to introduce Christ to them daily. If you ever second guess whether or not you should pick up that phone at 2 am, pick up the phone. If you ever question whether or not you should pick up a youth during the late hours of the night in strange neighbourhoods, pick them up. If ever a youth shares with you his/her struggle, struggle with them in faithful prayer and Love. And if somebody tries telling you that serving our God through this community or the church is a waste of time, look them in the eye and say from the depths of your heart with love, “this mission is real.”

Lord, You know how hard it was for me to write this. Thank You for courage and love to share this part of my life. I pray that we as your servants may empty ourselves daily and allow You to dwell within us so that all those we meet may encounter You instead. Lord, when the going gets tough, may Your love carry us through. Through the unceasing intercession of Mama Mary, may we foster  a relationship and environment among the youth you have entrusted to us that they may always be directed to You. Regardless of whatever may happen or whatever they may do, may we Love them for the sons/daughters that they are, just as you love us and them.

For the soul of my dear friend, may he find eternal rest in Your embrace. 

For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and the whole world.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us.
Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.
Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, Have mercy on us.

Amen.

Right now, I am currently writing this blog while hanging out in my hotel room. Three days into the trip,  there is something deep within me that is unnerving. I thought it began with my flight here.

Upon landing in the airport, I was so captivated by the countless stars in the night sky. I was so blessed to have an opportunity to star-gaze with the Lord. It was definitely a perfect moment. Each star was placed specifically in that spot by the Lord; each star had its own purpose. Though its purpose is unknown, it still shone so beautifully. I began to wonder: ‘Why did the Lord create me? What’s my purpose?’

The plane landed shortly after, so my reflection was disrupted. And to be honest, I brushed the thought to the side, much like the past few weeks. The trip progressed, and you would assume that I would be so ecstatic about the sun, warm weather, shopping, fancy shows, and restaurants–don’t get me wrong–I know that these are huge blessings. And I am so grateful for them. But even with all its worldly grandeur, it fell into the theme of my life for the past few weeks: passing. 

I guess things just got so piled up for the past few weeks that I allowed myself to just be spiritually numb to everything. It reflected in my prayer life, my relationships with those around me, my service, and the resonating absence of patience (a virtue I so tirelessly struggled with the Lord to slowly instil  within me).  For the past few weeks I witnessed so many victories and received so many blessings. My head knew that this was amazing and that the Lord should be unceasingly praised about it, but my heart just continued to say “meh.” This is what made (and still continues to do so) me feel so unnerving. I know that deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down inside I urgently desire to be so in tune with the Lord; I desire that we be so in tune that our connection would be inseparable. In a response to this, I have been trying to change my ‘prayer structure’ but have yet to find something that will allow me to just be with the Lord. This inner-displacement within my heart is what keeps me from stepping towards that.  Or so I thought.

I believe that I am a shooting star. These stars that you catch passing by are so beautiful, but so morbid at the same time. From what I know of, shooting stars are actually stars that are burning out or ‘about to die.’ And I am like this star, passing by. The reality is, also, that I am about to burn out and this heart of mine will ‘die.’ For this, I praise God! Why? Because there is hope. Like the disciples and Mama Mary waiting for the Holy Spirit after the Ascension of our Lord, I must patiently wait for the Lord to send the Holy Spirit to make my heart anew.

“Lord Jesus, you stumbled time and time again beneath the weight of the cross. Lord, have mercy” (Third Line from the Litany of the Cross).

Today is the fifth week of Lent. As we continue to prepare our hearts to be with Lord the day of His crucifixion, I am reminded of my cross and how I am called to take it up daily. These 40 days of fasting is truly a pilgrimage, a build up to the ultimate act of Love. Each cross we carry is heavy, some might even say that it is ‘burdensome.’ But as we look at the Passion of Christ, we see that even Jesus stumbled while carrying His cross. But not once did He ever ask that this cross be lifted from him. Christ embraced his cross and persevered to fulfill His mission. In fact, the cross, His cross was the epitome of His mission.

As I reflect on  the cross I bear, I realize that it is comprised of my sins, my failures, my familial relationship struggles, and my illness. It also includes my imperfect posture. I have something called ‘scoliosis,’ meaning that my spine is crooked and weak, sometimes causing me severe pain to point where I am bed-ridden for a day or so. I don’t like talking about my struggle with it too much, so I’m surprised I’m even inserting this sharing in my blog. It’s one of the things I am most insecure about and causes so much worry in my head. I always end up thinking: What if when people realize that my spine is crooked they’ll see that I am deformed? What if they make fun of me? What if I can’t do all the things I have to get done because I’m stuck here in this dumb bed?  

Because of this condition, I shouldn’t be carrying such heavy items or under so much stress. However, this past lent the pain has been increasing and occurring more frequently. Despite the pain, I still push forward the best I can through the grace of God. Sure, my spine may be crooked and weak, but that is because God is moulding me under the weight of my cross. And I realize that this pain is nothing in comparison to what the Lord endured while carrying His cross in Calvary.

It is the moments when we stumble under the weight of our cross that we are reminded of how desperately we need the Father and His grace. Because of this, I believe that to stumble is to be blessed. Truly, words cannot describe the beauty in bearing our cross. “To live with the Lord, we must die with Him.” And so, with Good Friday quickly approaching, we must ask ourselves: If I desire to be with the Lord so much, am I willing to be crucified with Him on my own cross? Whether or not your answer is ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ pray that the Holy Spirit will (continue to) give you the strength to carry your cross on your mission.

I pray that we may desire our cross. Through embracing our cross, may we find peace and love in the Lord. I pray that the Holy Spirit will give us strength to lift our crosses high to show the world that we are beyond blessed by the cross because it is our key into Heaven.

Today is my Grandmother’s 78th birthday. My family and I threw a make-shift, last minute birthday party for her this evening. In previous years, the whole family would just get together at a restaurant or a buffet. However, this year’s celebration differed in several ways. At face-value, it may seem that it was a simple celebration with family gathered as one, sharing a bucket of KFC chicken, Ube cake, and Sans Rival cake. However, the grandeur of tonight’s celebration was that of another victory.

On Thursday, March 13 my Grandmother was rushed to the ER and later admitted to the hospital. I’ll be honest when I say that it wasn’t the easiest day to get through. I hadn’t seen her so shaken in a while. I can’t get too heavy in detail about her health concerns (for confidentiality reasons). She was hospitalized for about two weeks, and within that period me and my family members had to take shifts caring for her and keeping her company. Some might say being at the hospital with her would be burdensome. And I could see why: I’m a full-time student with a full course load, finals nearly approaching, an active member in SFC, a CFCY Campus Based Program Head, a Catechist Assistant, a part-time Sales Associate, (just recently now) a Mission Volunteer, and adding anything else would be bit ‘too much to handle.’ But I realize that even more than that, I am a sister, a daughter, and a grand-daughter. That is my life-long vocation. In whatever vocation the Lord may call me to… I will always be a sister, daughter, and grand-daughter to my family.

The time I spent at the hospital with my Grandma will always have a special place in my heart, and in those moments I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but there right beside her. I learned so much about her and who she is as a woman. Instead of making an effort to preserve her strength because her health was declining, she would always endlessly repeat to me “you are beautiful” and “I love you,” and she meant it every single time. This brought me close to tears because she didn’t even have the energy to swallow or drink. Without a doubt, I know my grandmother is a woman of affectionate, sacrificial love.

If she wasn’t sharing kind words to me, she would be in prayer. She would repeatedly pray the “Our Father” and even pray “Ave Maria” in her sleep. I was dumbfounded, so in awe, so humbled. Before me was a woman painfully laying in bed–health deteriorating–and all she wanted to do was just love–love those around and love the Lord. And this led me to reflect on who my grandmother, my mom, and I were as daughters of God.

When I look at my mom and grandmother, they were both made by God to be resilient and fearless women. Both of them had gone through challenges that I could never imagine going through. My Grandma grew up through a war and raised five children in abject poverty. My mother was the first to graduate university and immigrate to a new country out of her whole family. So what does that mean for me? Am I fearless? Am I resilient? If you ask me, I will tell you a flat-out NO. My friends actually like to joke around and say that I “have no comfort zone.” But after my blunt “no,” I will proceed to say this: “No, I am not resilient. I am not fearless. But I know that because I am a daughter of God and that I am Loved, that the Lord is resilient through me, the Lord is fearless through me. I do not know where the Lord will take me, but looking at the lives of the women before me, I am affirmed that the Lord’s journey for me is Great and He will never leave me abandoned. It is a journey that I am excited for the Lord to unfold before me and walk with me.

AMDG