Below was supposedly my blog entry for last Saturday which I failed to post because I didn’t the chance to do so. I thought of posting it today. Please read this alongside my blog entry for today. They show you a better perspective of today’s gospel.
“…Honor your father and mother…” (Exodus 20:12)
It didn’t matter if I had talks to give this weekend — I begged to be excused.
It didn’t matter if I had a series of meetings to lead — I called them off.
It didn’t matter if I had a manuscript to finish — I set it aside.
Instead, I am now writing this post inside a nook at the pre-departure area of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport, waiting for my flight to Davao City. Just yesterday, I received the sad news that my father was rushed back to the hospital due to cardiac complications related to his diabetes. After making the necessary arrangements with all the people I had commitments with this weekend, I booked my flight.
You see, other people can take the role of a speaker or leader. But I am the only one who holds the role of being the eldest child of my father.
The manuscript will always be there. My father won’t be.
And that is why I am on my way to Davao this weekend. To be with Papang. To sit by his bedside. To serve him. To pray with him. To swap stories with him just like the good old days. Even for just a few days…
The past months I have been shuttling from one flight to another. I had been speaking at different places in the Philippines. But this flight to Davao today is different. There are no crowds waiting for me at my destination. No professional fees will be given in exchange for a talk. No books to sign or deals to make. But this, by far, is perhaps the most significant among all the flights I’ve taken in my life. Because in this journey, I am bent on performing a miracle.
No, I don’t mean to heal my father. The doctors can do that. I won’t give my dad cash. He may even refuse that. But perhaps there is a miracle my father prays for.
The miracle of my presence.
Considering my hectic schedule, it would be near impossible for me to even be boarding this flight that I am about to take. And that is why this trip is different. Significant. Precious. That is why it’s called a miracle.
Today, I invite you, my dear friend, to make a miracle in the lives of those whom you love. No, don’t send your spouse a bouquet of flowers, or your parents a nice DVD movie. No, don’t give your teenage child a credit card or your best friend a call. Instead, do something more. Be there with them. Your presence speaks so much more. It tells them that you can put on hold the world for them. It assures them that they still own your heart. It reminds them that despite your importance today, they are still most important to you.
You can perform many miracles today in the lives of the people you love. And you can begin by simply being there for them.
I have to pack up my laptop now. I will soon board the plane. Can I ask one favor, though? Please say a short prayer for my dad. He isn’t asking much. Just some kind of relief from his ailment…and a little bit of MIRACLE.
Still believing in miracles,