Perfectly Imperfect

 “I am perfect in my imperfections, secure in my insecurities, happy with my choices, strong in times of weakness and beautiful in my own way. I am myself.” Anonymous

I spent the past week stuck in a hotel room watching movies, reading books and writing on my journal, with an occasional visit to CVS for entertainment. It’s a good thing the hotel had the Hallmark channel because I was able to watch my share of “chick flicks” which is my favorite kind of movie. A while back, I watched one such movie on Netflix. Yes, Netflix shows plenty of chick-flicks too. This one was titled “Faith, Hope & Love.” The movie is about two girls that are trying to get their widowed father, Jimmy Hope, to fall in love with Faith, their dance teacher. The movie has a Christian message, something that is hard to find in a movie nowadays. I think that’s the main reason why I enjoy the Hallmark channel movies. Aside from the fact that I’m a hopeless romantic, I like that they are old-fashioned clean. There are no sexual scenes or foul language. They are the type of movie that I grew up watching. Movies like “Hello Dolly” or “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” or “Pretty Woman.” Beautiful movies without needing to be so graphic. 

I guess it’s hopeless to think that the world could return to that pure and uninhibited innocence, but that’s the thing about hope, we can close our eyes and hope for the impossible. Hope helps us to dream that things can be better than they are. And if we can dream it, we can achieve it. Hallmark certainly did, why can’t others? The problem is that we sometimes are too passive to ask for what we want. 

In a world where faith is being suppressed and persecuted, we need to develop courage to be the change. If we wait for others to talk the talk and walk the walk, we are not doing our part to achieve our mission. God has given each of us a mission, but if we remain passive waiting for others to take the initiative, it may be too late. We have to conquer our fears and be the ones who take the lead.

We don’t need to be perfect in order to make a difference. God understand our imperfections. The theme of the movie “Faith, Hope & Love” is exactly about that. The characters are all perfectly imperfect. Jimmy Hope is a Christian dad who drinks a bit too much in order to drown the pain of losing his wife. Faith is bitter about her divorce and has trouble in the dating scene. But in the midst of their imperfect world, they attempt to help each other and in the process, they fall in love and realize that they are perfect for each other.

So let’s get out there and make a difference. God is not interested in our ability, He’s interested in our availability. We have to set the example if we want to change our world for the better. Hope starts with each one of us. We need to allow God to use us as His messengers of faith and love so we can bring hope to those who need it, one person at a time, one day at a time. God needs each and every one of us to make this imperfect world a little more perfect. And it begins with each of His perfectly imperfect children giving Him our time. 

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Angry with Hope

"For every minute you are angry, you lose 60 seconds of happiness." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

As I stood watching the rain pound against the window, I realized that I was angry. The wind matched my temper. It looked furious as it slammed hard against the trees. There were hundreds of black birds flying high. They resembled my mood. I wondered if birds got annoyed the way we humans do.

Why am I upset? I’m upset because we came all the way to New York to spend Easter with our 5-month-old grandson, and Covid robbed us of that precious time. So yes, I am furious at Covid. Have I told you how much I hate Covid? I hate Covid. I haven’t felt so much anger against anything like I feel against Covid. 

It’s incredible how a moment of happiness can shatter like spun sugar in a second. We were together with our kids on Holy Thursday and the morning of Good Friday. We were happy and carefree. My hubby had been sneezing but since he suffers from allergies and there was so much pollen flying around, we didn’t think anything of it. But then my son took out a home Covid test and our joy came crashing down. Even though the test was inconclusive, it was enough to make us fearful. 

Three tests and twenty-four hours later, we knew the bug had caught up with us. So much for vaccines and wearing masks in public places. So much for eating outdoors and keeping social distance. The hateful virus managed to squeeze its way into my hubby. 

I can complain nonstop but what’s the point? I want to go back to how life had been before Covid but there is no going back. I took for granted how easy life had been before everything changed with Covid. And I feel so unbearably sad. But there is no undoing. At this point, there is only moving forward and hope it all gets better.

I have two choices: I can get over what happened or I can choose to be miserable. There are so many people that have lost loved ones. They are the ones that deserve to be angry, not me. I have so much to be thankful for, and yet, I still can’t shake this feeling of disillusionment from my heart.

I have come to realize that Covid is here to stay. Asking it to go away is like asking a cat to grow wings. Therefore, we are going to have to learn to live with it. I just hope there comes a time when Covid is treated like just another cold because the worst part of this experience is to feel like we are lepers, trapped in a jail cell looking out the window, but not being able to be part of the world. 

After the storm passed, I looked out the window and I saw a parade of children walking towards the Aquarium that’s across our hotel. They were all hopping with joy at the anticipation of seeing the sea creatures behind the glass windows. As I stared from my own window at this parade of happy children, dressed in their colorful jackets, I felt my anger fade and be replaced with hope. This too shall pass, I told myself. And I realized that even though I’m angry, I still have hope. 

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

A Basket of Hope for Easter

“All of you who feel heavily the weight of the cross, take courage. You are the preferred children of the kingdom of God, the kingdom of hope, happiness and life.” Blessed Paul VI

I am writing this meditation from Long Island, NY. We came to celebrate our grandson’s first Easter but as luck (or bad luck) would have it, we are spending it inside a hotel room in quarantine. 

It should not surprise me anymore that our plans have been disrupted. As my funny son pointed out: “Covid ruined the birth of Jesus and now it’s ruined the death of Jesus.” Yes, we had planned to celebrate Christmas with them and we had to cancel our plans last minute. This time we made it to New York but only got to spend a day and a half together. However, I don’t agree with him that Covid ruined the birth or the death of Jesus. It may have ruined our celebration but it did not ruin the gift of hope that Jesus left us with both His birth and His death. 

We all face sorrow from time to time. But God has given us the gift of hope through His Son. Jesus came to be born as a human person, He lived on earth for thirty-three years, He died and He resurrected. His resurrection is the biggest gift of hope that we have been granted. No matter what sorrow we are facing, we can pull out the gift of hope from our Easter basket, and take the necessary steps to strengthen and build up our faith. When we look at suffering from Jesus’ perspective, we see hope rather than hopelessness. 

Sorrow makes us understand what truly matters in life. God and faith top the list, followed closely by love, friendship and family. A support community is very important to have. And having hope is critical to keep going in the midst of a difficult situation because without it we wither and die.

This Easter my gift to all my friends and family is a basket of hope. Don’t let hope die because hope is like sunshine in the rain. When you feel that your hope is running out, reach inside the basket and grab it, because when something ends, something better begins. 

Have a Happy Easter filled with hope. 

Mary’s Hope

 “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” Luke 2:34-:35

When my oldest was in college, he got sick with whooping cough. I remember it was Holy Saturday when he called me that he was going to the university clinic because he was feeling really bad. They kept him overnight. Of course, mother hen was not able to sleep that night. As I sat by myself in the darkness of my living room, I started thinking of Mary, and how she must she have felt on that Sabbath after they crucified her Son. 

I felt her presence that night. I closed my eyes and united my agonizing heart to hers. I felt her sadness. I contemplated the horror that she witnessed on Good Friday. I saw her painful tears as they rolled down her face.  I remembered Simeon’s prediction that a sword would pierce her heart. And I wept with her because I felt her pain. In that moment, her tears were my tears, and her pain was my pain. 

I grabbed my rosary and I asked her to join me in praying for my son. I knew she could comprehend the way only a mother can how I was feeling that night, so far away from my son. I felt totally helpless and I knew that’s exactly how she felt as she stood under the cross. She felt helpless. 

As I prayed the sorrowful mysteries, I began to experience Mary’s hope. I realized that in the midst of her pain, Mary had not lost her hope. She knew that death was not the end of the story. Her Son had said it over and over again: “The Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!” Matthew 20:18–19. Everything had come to pass just as He had predicted. Therefore, Mary had hope that her Son would be raised to life on the third day. But waiting was still difficult. 

As I meditated on Mary’s hope, I also felt hope that on Easter Sunday I would receive good news. Just as Mary waited for her Son to be raised to life, I waited for my son to be discharged and to return to health. 

I grabbed onto Mary’s hope that night thirteen years ago and I have never let go. When I find myself in what seems to be a hopeless situation, I pray a Hail Mary and Mary’s hope envelops me just like it did on that Easter Eve. 

Whatever you are going through, pray to Mary today, and ask her to fill you with her hope. Trust that your waiting time during Holy Saturday will not last forever. Your Easter Sunday is coming soon. Allow Mary’s hope to quench your sorrow. Sit with her in hope until the Easter Son shines down upon your life in all His glory. 

Mama Mary, pray for us. 

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

He Came to Serve

“Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” John 13:15-16

One of the things that I enjoy most when I travel is attending mass in the different towns. Even though the mass itself is the same, each place has its own costumes and traditions. 

We are currently in Long Island and last night we went to Holy Thursday mass at St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church. The mass was bilingual in English and Spanish. I was surprised to find a huge Hispanic community in this area. 

The one thing that differed this parish from all Holy Thursday services that I have attended was the Washing of the Feet. Most churches call twelve parishioners to sit at the altar and the priest washes their feet. Here, they only called four to the altar. The other eight were spread out around the church and the priest walked up to them to wash their feet. One of them sat right in front of us. The priest came up to him, with four young helpers, and washed his feet right there. It was very humbling. So humbling in fact, that the next guy to get his feet washed, knelt and broke down crying afterwards. 

As I watched him cry, I closed my eyes and placed myself at the Upper Room. How humbling and difficult it must have been for the disciples to allow Jesus to wash their feet. In those times, only slaves performed that service. Their feet must have been very dirty from walking all day through dirt roads and in sandals. Yet, Jesus knelt down and humbly washed their smelly feet. No wonder Peter complained, and didn’t want Jesus to wash his feet. 

The washing of the feet always reminds me that our job here on earth is not to be served but to serve. There are a lot of feet that need to be washed, and I can hear Jesus telling me: “As I have done, so must you do. What you do for them, you do for Me.”

I hope that the next time that I encounter someone with dirty feet, I wash their feet with the same love that Jesus did it to his disciples, not because He had to but because He wanted to. 

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Hope in the Resurrection

 “We proclaim the resurrection of Christ when his light illuminates the dark moments of our existence, and we are able to share it with others.” Pope Francis 

A man went to work in Calcutta with Mother Teresa. He was looking for clarity about what to do with the rest of his life. When he met Mother Teresa, he asked her to pray for him. “What would you like me to pray for?” she asked him. He told her that he was looking for clarity, and she replied that she could not pray for that. He did not understand, and he told her that she always seemed to have the kind of clarity that he was looking for. She laughed and said: “I have zero percent clarity.” He was dumbfounded. “How can that be?” he asked her. She answered him that she had zero percent clarity but she had one hundred percent trust. “I will pray that you trust God,” she said. 

I am the type of person that doesn’t like to live in the dark. I like to have clarity in my life. I need to know what I’m doing tomorrow, next week and even next year. Or at least, I used to be that way. The pandemic and other unexpected events in my life have taught me that I have zero control of my life. I can plan all I want to, and then God just laughs and messes up my plans. Therefore, what’s the point? I just have to trust Him and let Him lead the way.

This year, I made zero plans for Lent. I prayed to Him: “Show me what You want me to do.” I placed my trust in Him and He brought me to daily mass. I had never been able to accomplish that and walk at the same time. It was either walk in the morning or go to mass. There was no time for both. But with His help, and waking up quite early, I was able to attend daily mass during Lent. And what a blessing it has been. Starting the day with Him, receiving the Eucharist and then going to work, has taken away all the stress that tax season usually brings to my life.

Now that Lent is almost over, I’m placing all my hope in the Resurrection. I hope that I can share with others, the light that I have received during these forty days of Lent. And I hope that I can continue attending daily mass. But I’m not making any plans. I hope that He will lead the way and show me what He wants me to do next. And I hope that like Mother Teresa, I have one hundred percent trust in Him. 

St. Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Finding Hope in Art and Music

“I believe in angels, something good in everything I see…” Abba

God works in funny ways. I had been thinking about what to write next regarding this year’s theme about hope, and I couldn’t come up with anything. What did He do? He sent me on a mission which ended up with me sitting down with a nun talking about finding hope in art and music. God never ceases to surprise me.

It turns out that there is a small convent just a few blocks from my office. This convent is run by the Claretian Missionary Sisters. I went there this week simply to pick up some tickets for a dinner. Little did I know that what I thought would take just a few seconds turned into a beautiful thirty-minute visit with Sister Carmen, one of the nuns who lives there. I would have stayed all morning talking to her. It was that wonderful. 

When I got there, she asked me to sit down while she went to retrieve the tickets. She then sat with me and first, she took me on a trip through Spain. Listening to her was like traveling to the beaches of Asturias, Galicia and ending in Barcelona. We then talked about the Ukrainian children that are staying in the different convents around Europe. And then, our conversation took a turn towards art and music. She’s in charge of the catechesis classes at Corpus Christi Catholic Church. She told me about the magnificent museum that Father Jose Luis Menendez has put together over there with art from all over the world. And then, she said these words: “Art and music gives us hope, and it helps us to evangelize.” I got goosebumps. 

I had never thought of art this way, but she’s so right. When I stood in front of the Annunciation fresco in the Monastery of San Marco in Florence, I was transported to the moment when the angel appeared to Mary.

I am a visual person so I am moved more by pictures than by listening to a long sermon. Her words made a lot of sense. Art helps us to evangelize others and therefore, we can be evangelized with art. 

It’s the same with music. In our Emmaus retreats, we always end our talks with a song. Years later, I have encountered an Emmaus sister who may not remember what was said word by word, but she remembers the songs that were played. That is the reason why at some point, we started giving out a CD with all the music that was played during the retreat. All I have to do is listen to the music to be transported back to that retreat. 

I had figured out what she meant by evangelization with art and music, but how can I find hope in art and music? As if she had heard my thoughts, Sister Carmen responded: “There’s such little hope in the world today that by bringing art and music to the people we bring them hope.” She went on to explain that she gave a talk about hope to the parents of her Confirmation students. At the end of her talk, she played the song “I Have a Dream” by Abba. Some parents were so moved that they began to cry. Afterwards, they thanked her for giving them hope.

We ended our conversation by her telling me: “What’s the point of living if we don’t have hope?”

As soon as I got to my office, I told Alexa to play the song. As I listened to the words, my eyes also got watery: 

“I Have a Dream, a song to sing, to help me cope, with anything. If you see the wonder, of a fairy tale, you can take the future, even if you fail. I believe in angels, something good in everything I see…”

https://youtu.be/TFWlNmwQgzI

Do you believe in angels? I hope you do. And if you don’t, I hope you find them through art and music. 

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.