Manna in the Desert

If ever I have come to a conviction in my life, it would be the very reality of the sweet and gentle force of the love of Jesus. Looking back at my life, I am amazed at how, even outside of my choosing, Christ my Lord has made himself known to me. Little by little, he drew me with his love and regardless of the many times that I fall, somehow, I find myself running so desperately into his arms... He has not made life better for me, he has not made it clearer nor easier... but in his presence, suffering, pain, confusion and emptiness are so caught up in his extravagant grace that one is but left with deep sentiments of grateful and adoring awe.

For 9 years now, my thorn in the flesh has been ssa. The very reality of it first surfaced on Aug 15, 2000, in the jubilee year, the solemnity of the Assumption of the Virgin and the eve of my birthday. From then on, it was an attraction to one man after another, with each of them not reciprocating my sentiments. I can't describe how much that broke my heart, how much it intensified the deep seated loneliness in the depths of my being, how often, out of desperation, I turned to other substances and means for relief, among them, the unholy trinity of smoking, drinking and porn. I hated myself for feeling that way, I hated them for not feeling the same way, I hated the world who could not seem to understand, I hated the Church for seemingly failing to come to my help and I hated this God who made me like this because I knew this was not my choosing. I did not choose to be gay and the mystery of that often left my heart feeling paralyzed and imprisoned, enslaved by my own passions.

Yet the journey has been bittersweet because it was precisely in the midst of that the Lord Jesus, risen and alive, revealed himself to me and made his voice known to me. I was raised within a context of deep piety and by God's grace I never wandered too far from Mother Church. But it wasn't until the midnight of my struggle that I can say I met the Lord Jesus in a very real and intimate way. It was truly a mystagogical experience.

On Easter Vigil, we sing, O felix culpa quae talem et tantum meruit habere redemptorem," "O happy fault that merited such and so great a Redeemer!" It was not until the midst of this that I recognized in a profound and real way my need, my personal need, for a Redeemer. "What would life have been for us had Christ not come as our Savior? O Father! Father, how wonderful your care for us! How boundless your merciful love! To ransom a slave, you gave away your Son!" This was definitely a grace and I have strong confidence that it was obtained by the solicitous intercession of the all-holy Virgin to whom I entrusted myself 9 years ago.

Christ did not remove the pain, did not lessen the struggle, did not even diminish the passion... rather he intensified it leading me, not by light, but by darkness... he spoke to me with his silence, he loved me in the night, he led me by darkness. Countless times, I would indulge myself into my passions only to emerge more empty and find myself running to Christ. I can't fully articulate in words the internal struggle and pain that these last 9 years have been. For a long time, I kept it to myself without speaking of it to anyone. It became my private Cross known only to Jesus.

Along the way, through several falls, Christ has placed people along my path who offered love and compassion and he gave me grace to open my heart to them: Several very good and holy priests, one bishop, good and holy friends both men and women. Along with them, I found strength in the lives and works heroes who have run the race before us; among them, Fr. Thomas Merton, Fr. Henri Nouwen, Pope John Paul II, Catherine Doherty, C.S. Lewis, St. Faustina, Msgr. Giussani and Dame Julian of Norwich. The two most important saints who have shaped my faith and spirituality are St. Augustine and St. John of the Cross.

In terms of the Church, I have found my home among the discalced Carmelites being an aspirant to their third Order. The thorn remains strong as ever and the struggles are still there, both internally and externally. But they are bearable with the strength of Christ's grace. I try not to turn too far back into the past or squint too forward into the future as thinking about them often overwhelms me. I leave it to the hands of Christ. He calls me to be faithful to the task of the hour, to love him there and to unite whatever form my Cross may take at the moment to his blessed Passion in reparation and for the salvation of souls.

So far, my journey was not about making me happy in this life nor was it even about satisfying now the restlessness of my soul. Pain is the kiss of love and to follow Him is to be drawn nearer and nearer into the circle of His Passion. Therefore, "Omne gaudium existimate..." Consider it all as joy - the trials, the sorrows, the darkness, the Cross. To lose and to die is the royal way traced out by our Redeemer. We cannot invent another route. Along this sorrowful path, all impurity is burned in the furnace of divine love and we are left with nothing to be filled with the all: Christ empties so He can fill the heart with himself. This seems to be the continual dynamic of my life and so it continues. More emptying... more filling. Less and less of me and more and more of Him.

I have nothing in me to count as good, I have done no good to merit praise. All the good that has has come to me and through me I attribute completely to the gratuitous grace of God who refuses to give up on me. My choices have often veiled his face but the irony of that is that out of that choice, he made his face clearer to me: Merciful Love. He has captured my heart and I am nothing without him.

"I have nothing in my works with which I can glorify myself,
I have nothing to boast about and, consequently, I WILL GLORY IN CHRIST.
I will not glorify myself because I am just, but I will glory because I am redeemed.
I will not glorify myself because I am exempt from sins, but I will glory because my sins have been remitted.
I will not glorify myself because I have helped or been helped, but because Christ has been my advocate with the Father, because the blood of Christ was poured out for me.
For me, Christ tasted death.
Guilt is more profitable than innocence.
Innocence made me arrogant, guilt has made me humble."
(St. Ambrose of Milan)