Paul's Loneliness

MORNING PRAISE | October 18, 2019 (Friday) | Feast of St. Luke, the Evangelist

Paul’s Loneliness | 2 Timothy 4: 9-18

PERSONAL REFLECTION         

“Punta kami ospital.” (We’re going to the hospital.)

I received those words from my mother via message on FB Messenger. It was the evening of September 24, just a few minutes before Fr. Roy’s third session on prayer ended. It had been several days since my 13-year old niece started nursing a fever, and despite taking the antibiotics prescribed by her doctor, the fever still did not show any sign of relenting. She had to be taken to the hospital.

I imagine how my mother must have felt like at that point. It must have been difficult for her to not have me there to calm her down and to take care of the practical stuff – like carrying their things, hailing a tricycle, withdrawing from the ATM, etc.

I imagine it must have been difficult for her because it was difficult for me. I felt powerless and worthless. I felt like I failed my mother as a son, and I felt like I failed my niece as an uncle. You see, my niece grew up with my parents and me… not with her own parents. I took it upon myself to somehow be more than her uncle. From the time she was three months old, I tried really hard to somehow be a father figure for her, a playmate, a friend, a protector. But then the candidacy happened, and I had to abruptly give a lot of that up. As a result, she had to give a lot of that up too – and I suppose what hurts is that she really didn’t have a say on the matter.

But beyond that, what’s glaring at that point in time, is that she had been sick for several days, she had to be taken to the hospital, and I couldn’t be there for her the way I had always been in the past.

Brothers, in today’s selected reading, we get a hint of St. Paul’s loneliness as he anticipates his verdict while imprisoned. He recounts the people who have left him, and those who have wronged him as he carried out his ministry. And yet he does not seem to bear any ill feelings towards them, instead leaving divine justice in the hands of the Lord. Despite the hurts and pains, and even if he was probably very tired with doing all he had done for his ministry, he surrendered everything to God: trusting that God will give him the strength that he needs, the protection from every evil threat, and ultimately communion with God in His kingdom. In hindsight, I would like to think that there is an invitation here for us to do the same, because through all the difficulties we may encounter, God continues to love us abundantly, and will forever be faithful to us.

My niece was released from the hospital two days after she was brought in. Thankfully, it was not dengue. She was released on a Friday, the day of our September recollection. During the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, exhausted by the mental torment of my niece’s hospitalization, the first thing that I uttered in my head was “God, I am tired.” My tears started flowing, and soon enough, I fell asleep, imagining my head resting in Jesus’ lap. I woke up several minutes later, thoroughly refreshed and feeling that my faith had been renewed, enough for me to push on with what lies ahead because our God is a God who protects, loves, and comforts, with faithfulness that is beyond words. And so tired, broken, hurting, lonely, and dejected as I am, I pray to the Lord that I may always latch on to his faithfulness and love.

Amen.