TERESITA TANSECO-CRUZ
More than seven decades and five years ago, God placed me in this world through my beloved parents. Even before that very first moment, he has tended to me unflinchingly, unceasingly, untiringly with love, compassion, fidelity, and his trademark mercy. He has sustained me through all the pulse and movements, tight crevices, and liberating clearings of my life, constantly attending to countless details of it that He, and only He, can keep track of and anticipate. He has embraced me through every sadness, saved me from making some pretty idiotic decisions, and rescued me from those close calls with the dark abyss, my back arrogantly turned to Him. He has “pampered “ me with a continuous swirl of priceless gifts: family, friends, mentors, children and grandchildren, marriage to my kindred spirit…good health, comfort, unexpected miracles, and joy far beyond what I could ever imagine, much less deserve.
Now… how many more times does God have to “prove” Himself to me before I begin to trust Him unconditionally, without fear or a “maybe“… before my willfulness melts into His will…before I drop at His feet in humble gratefulness, contentment and confidence because my life is in His hands and how can it possibly get better than that?
In an iconic song written by Bob Dylan, he poses what I consider as soul-challenging questions that invite awakening, perhaps from complacency. One question in the song asks, “how many times must a man look up before he can see the sky?” The offered answer, found in the song’s refrain and title, is “Blowin’ In The Wind.”
What kind of wind do I find my answers in? Are they in the ferocious gusts of my smugness and self-absorption rather than in the “gentle blowing” that Elijah encountered on that mountain (remember him in 1 Kings 19:11-13)? How many more times will I miss God passing by, thanks to the constant earthquake of my attachments and anxieties? How much more will I take God for granted through the blaze of my frenzied daily schedule and zealous checking of that cellphone? How long, indeed, before I quiet down so that God can find me with the calming, potent breeze of His whisper?
Lord, grant me the grace to know the tender strength of your loving presence in the mountain of receptive stillness. There may I hear the happy noise of my long-indulged attachments clearly resisting but definitely tumbling down the slope, debris and all, and may I behold my long-challenged surrender clambering doggedly up through the clutter, clearly out of breath but definitely making it to the top.
Here I am, Lord!