I try to live every day in prayer. I always have. But I haven’t always been aware of it…
Prayer is an individual process; it means different things to different people and to me prayer is a way of connecting with ourselves and others, through a mutual relationship with God. God is our friend. He’s there when we are happy, but He’s also there to help us get through the hard times. (PAUSA)
Have you read Angels and Demons? I really like the way Dan Brown describes how God helps us get through the hard times in this book, so I’m going to share with you a conversation the camerlengo had with Chartrand, one of the Swiss guards, about God.
"Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca: Do you have children?
Lieutenant Chatrand: No, signore.
Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca: Imagine you had an eight-year-old son… would you love him?
Lieutenant Chatrand: Of course.
Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca: Would you let him skateboard?
Lieutenant Chatrand: Yeah, I guess. Sure I’d let him skateboard, but I’d tell him to be careful.
Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca: So as this child’s father, you would give him some basic, good advice and then let him go off and make his own mistakes?
Lieutenant Chatrand: I wouldn’t run behind him and mollycoddle him if that’s what you mean.
Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca: But what if he fell and skinned his knee?
Lieutenant Chatrand: He would learn to be more careful.
Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca: So although you have the power to interfere and prevent your child’s pain, you would choose to show you love by letting him learn his own lessons?
Lieutenant Chatrand: Of course. Pain is part of growing up. It’s how we learn.
Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca: Exactly."
God is an all powerful and well-meaning being. He helps us learn form our experiences and makes us stronger.
The opportunity to pray is everywhere. I believe everyone prays, but sometimes we are not aware of it. We don’t need to spend two hours every day praying. Prayer is everywhere because God is everywhere: in midnight conversations with our friends, when the sun and the moon come out together, in a stranger’s smile, in our decision to come to Awakening. We just need to recognize these moments to appreciate the beauty of prayer.
Let me give you an example. Last year I was walking late to class, thinking of everything I had to do that day, when this squirrel jumped out of nowhere and I almost fell to avoid stepping on it. It was the biggest squirrel I’d ever seen, and it seemed so happy and giddy, as if it knew that it had just scared me. I smiled as I watched the squirrel disappear into some bushes, and kept walking. For a second I forgot about my homework, my problems, and everything. The world around me had reduced to just me and the giant squirrel. So I walked right into a green pole. (JAJAJA)
What I’m trying to say with this whimsical story is that moments like this, which make us stop to appreciate our life and everything around us, are in fact some of the most beautiful moments of prayer.
We can share prayer in community as well, with our friends and even strangers. Making a connection with other people is a way of seeing God. I love to watch people pray at mass, especially when they are singing. Through music I connect with who I really am, so when I see people singing and sometimes even dancing at mass I know that they feel the same way I do.
However, for me it’s really important to find moments were I consciously engage in prayer. I’ve found this really helpful when I’m feeling confused, stressed, or just when I’m happy. It was really hard to find the best way to pray for me. In the summer of 2000, I went on a retreat with a high school youth group. I spent two weeks in a place just like this learning about prayer and exploring my options. Some of my friends picked a specific time of the day to pray – while driving to school or before taking a shower. Routines don’t work for me. I get distracted easily. Sometimes I would start praying in my head and five minutes later I’d realize that my mind was wondering somewhere else as I said the Our Father, because even though I know it by heart, it can get repetitive and I forget its meaning. So I adopted as a pattern of prayer something I learned at the retreat. Whenever I sit down to talk to God, first I praise… then I give thanks… and finally I make petitions. This order gives me the opportunity to consciously think of everything I have and appreciate it before asking for something else. I can only ask for something, after I know what I have. This process helps me evaluate my life and to ask for forgiveness.
I use this form of prayer after Communion at mass. Engaging in this process of awareness, helps me understand this mystery of my faith: accepting the bread and the wine as a symbol that Christ lived… died… and resurrected to save us. But for me, the most important part Communion is sharing the moment with everyone else around me. As a Eucharistic Minister at the CSC, I have the opportunity to look at people’s eyes and connect with them as they accept Christ in their lives… for me the most amazing moment of prayer, an incredible feeling of joy and hope for our world. Because saying yes to Communion is saying yes God… Mary gave that same answer when she accepted becoming the mother of God: (PAUSA) “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” (PAUSA) With those words Mary said YES to Christ in her as Light… Teacher… Word… and as son of God.
At the Annunciation, Mary hears with attention what God wants… weighs what she does not understand… and gives herself to the fulfillment of the Divine will. Mary teaches us that obedience to God is not servitude, but moves us to question our faith, and guides us to discover ourselves and God. I love Mary not because the Mother of God received exceptional privileges, but because she lived and suffered simply, like us. Because she is human, I can relate to her as a model for imitation; as a mother to approach with childlike confidence.
When I pray to Mary, I pray for her to intercede for us, because when she accepted God’s will, she got closer to Him; I pray for her inspiration and strength so I can find what God has planned for me... That is what the Hail Mary means… we pray to Mary, who is full of grace and close to her Son, to intercede for us sinners now and at the hour of our death…. Mary is the best person to help me know Christ and I trust her to care for me and my needs.
Mary inspires me to pray; to become aware of God’s presence and to find and accept His will. (PAUSA) “May it be done to me according to your word; (PAUSA) Hágase en mi según tu palabra.” (PAUSA) That’s how I started my prayer diary on the summer of 2000 after I got back from the retreat I talked about earlier. It was a time of making big decisions: What do I want to study? To which university to apply? I even considered a religious vocation. The diary was a tangible form of prayer that helped me focus. Sometimes I would reflect on different things such as songs, poems, prayers, or verses of the Bible. But most of the time I just wrote how I felt.
Later that year I went on a service trip to Venezuela. I left my family for about 10 days and volunteered with a group doing social work, assisting doctors, and helping in a pharmacy.
The night I returned home, my father picked me up at the airport. He was alone. I thought that was strange. I expected to see my entire family at the gate: my mom, my dad, my little brother, my grandparents (PAUSA). I’m Puerto Rican; everyone picks you up at the airport. (PAUSA) But no one else was there.
When my father and I were alone in the car, he told me what was wrong. My grandmother, Añy, was in the hospital. (PAUSA) “Okay. She was sick? How bad could it be?” (PAUSA)
The image of my grandmother in the hospital is still stuck inside my head. She was asleep. Machines were beeping; tubes and cables connected to her body. (PAUSA) “What happened while I was gone? Ten days ago she was teaching me how to cook and now she didn’t even know I was there. ” (PAUSA)
No one expected what happen. Añy, had always been the piece that held our family together. When my brother and I were born, she took care of us while our parents worked. After we started school, she would walk two blocks everyday to my house to “feed the dogs.” That was her excuse to cook for us and to do our laundry. Every afternoon after school we would sit together to watch Mexican soap operas and talked about Ricky Martin and boys. My grandmother was one of my best friends.
At first I thought it was a temporary thing; that we would have Añy back in a couple of weeks. I was confident that God would somehow heal my grandmother, but time kept passing by and our home was starting to fall apart. My mother spent every day in the hospital. My father got back from work late. So my brother and I were left in charge of everything around the house. Everything Añy always did for us, but we always took for granted. My family rarely got to see each other, and when we did, we would fight and scream. I was angry with my parents for not being around the house and my relationship with God was getting weak. The tension in the family grew everyday. We were scared and did not know what was really happening.
A friend overheard a conversation I had with my godmother about Añy. The next day she gave me a note: (PAUSA) “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (PAUSA) Through that simple gesture she gave me hope and brought God back into my life.
That night my mother told us Añy had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. After that she started chemotherapy and had three operations. The last time, she had so much hope… (PAUSA) But the doctors couldn’t do anything. The cancer had spread everywhere. (PAUSA)
My mother decided to bring Añy home with us, and just wait. We didn’t know how much time we had, but we were determined to give my grandmother all the care and love she deserved. We had the opportunity to give her back everything she had always done for us.
It was Tuesday, I remember. I was getting everything ready when the ambulance arrived. Añy was so happy to be home. She was talking and eating. She got her haircut and looked more beautiful than ever. No one could tell she was dying. (PAUSA)
A week later, I had coffee in the morning with my grandmother and went to school like every other day. It was Valentine’s Day, so that afternoon I decided to go out with my friends to celebrate. When I got back home later that evening, Añy didn’t recognize me. I was scared and confused. The whole family was there, but no one was doing anything (PAUSA). Then I realized there was nothing to do (PAUSA).
I stayed with my Añy all night. I tried talking to her. I tried for hours to get a response from her. (PAUSA) “Are you thirsty? Where does it hurt? What can I do for you?” (PAUSA) Then she opened her big brown eyes, grabbed my hand, and told me: “nothing hurts.” (PAUSA) I was petrified. (PAUSA) I could tell she was in agony, but nothing hurt. It didn’t make sense to me, but that was the last thing she told me. (PAUSA) I gave up talking and just lay beside her, singing and praying until I was too tired to keep my eyes open. So I went to my room and opened my prayer diary, and wrote until I fell asleep.
The next morning my mother sent us to school and my father went to work. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Añy and started to feel really sick. What started like a small twinge became an unbearable stomach ache. By the end of the day I was almost unconscious.
When my mother saw me, she didn’t know what to do. Añy was getting worse and now me; her mother and her daughter.
I was sitting on a sofa next to my grandmother when a nurse arrived. She was like an angel. Even though she didn’t know my family, she knew exactly what to tell us. Her words were so beautiful and transmitted so much peace. The nurse calmed Añy and I also started to feel better.
But still, I was obviously dehydrated. My father arrived home early from work to take me to the hospital. Before I left I told my grandmother “Te amo.” (PAUSA) She opened her eyes and found mine. We made eye contact. We made a connection. Something told me the she loved me too.
While I waited in the emergency room, I just prayed in my head and practiced again and again everything I wanted Añy to know. The pain was almost completely gone when a nurse called my name. The doctor that saw me could not tell what was wrong and sent me home.
I was ready to leave the hospital anyway. I was feeling better and I wanted to see my grandmother. So I went outside to ask my father to take me home, but when I opened the door I saw my mother’s best friend. (PAUSA) She was there to tell us that Añy had died. (PAUSA) Of course I was sad, but I smiled. My grandmother was one of my best friends and I was going to miss her, but I couldn’t help feeling happy that she had stop suffering. (PAUSA)
The summer before I came to WASHU, I was cleaning my room and packing, when I found my prayer diary in the bottom of one of my drawers. I was writing less frequently now and had nearly forgotten about it. I opened it and started reading. Most of it was about Añy. It was emotional to remember how I felt during her illness and after she died. At first I was really optimistic, then I stopped writing for a few months… But something struck me more than anything. The night before Añy died, I offered her to God and asked Him to take her suffering away and to give it to me (PAUSA).
And he answered my prayer. (PAUSA) My grandmother and I were connected. Through the pain I felt I was able to let go of her physical presence and to offer her soul to God. Even though I was sick, I was unable to stop praying for her. The compassion I felt for my grandmother that day healed me and helped me understand and accept death as our salvation.
It took me almost two years to realize that I experienced a miracle. Keeping my prayers in a diary, was key to being able to go back and reflect until it was clear how God chose to manifest his presence, changing my view of prayer forever. Sometimes we don’t understand the power and significance of our prayers when we want to. God waits for us, for when we are ready to embrace its true significance. (PAUSA)
We experience loss everyday, not necessarily in the form of a person, and God is always there to give us hope and to help us move on. I believe God answers our prayers in the most unusual ways. I trust that even though we don’t always get what we want, we always get what we need.
I am graduating next year. Every time I call home my parents ask me the same question: “What are you going to do after WASHU?” When I started preparing for this talk, that was my most dreaded question, because I didn’t have the answer for it. But now I’ve realized that I don’t need an answer to that question. I’m still searching for that answer. I don’t know what I want, and the truth is I think I will never know. It is frustrating sometimes, not knowing. But because we often base our decisions on what we think we should do, what our parents think, or what our friends think, we forget about what God wants for us. And He wants us to be happy. And that happiness is in ourselves: getting to know who we really are and being who we really are, without appearances. That’s prayer. Connecting with ourselves and accepting our limitations is the first step to connect with God. Prayer is a conscious choice, a style of life. And through that process, we must be present and open to change. I’ve told you what works for me, but in the end, the only thing that matters is that we come with an open heart, just as we are. Because prayer does not change God, it changes us.
By me on November 2004
Last night I learned a lot about these annoying little animals. A cicada is an insect with big eyes wide apart on the head an usually transparent, well-veinged wings... I would have to agree with the notion that it looks like a roach with wings.... So, there are approximately 2,500 species of cicada around the globe... and we have some of them here in St. Louis. Their remarkable acoustic talents came to my attention for the first time during my freshman year.... The only reason I look forward to winter is because they dissapear. But these annoying insects have a very interesting life cycle, and for that I give them some credit. Here's a little something from a wikipedia entry:
