Thirty Days Alone With God

By Martin Koroiciri

The author is a Columban seminarian from Fiji doing his spiritual formation year in Cubao, Quezon City. Here he shares something of his Thirty-Day Retreat, following the Exercises of St Ignatius, at the Jesuit Retreat House, Novaliches, Quezon City, last October-November.

They say that prayer is our conversation with God. If there was ever a phobia in my life, it was of prayer, one of seeing the reality of myself as I am, of seeing my imperfections and accepting them. On this particular journey of prayer I faced my fear. My journey with God is personal and intimate and confidentiality restricts me from sharing all that happened to me on this journey.

In Contemplation

But there is one significant event that amazed me at how God has unlimited ways of revealing himself to us, and how with just the right amount of attention and prayer, God showed himself to me in ways I could never have imagined.

It was a dawn like any other as I woke up and went for my morning walk. The surroundings looked as they had on the day I arrived at Sacred Heart Retreat House. Seeing the sun up in the full glory of its light, I decided to stroll to the basketball court and then down the path to the Jesuit cemetery where I would pray a decade of the rosary for the souls of the faithful departed. As I approached the path towards the basketball court I heard the voices of nature: of birds, bees, insects, and many other creatures that I could not recognize, I heard the dancing of the leaves and branches, swaying in harmony to the rhythm of life. Somehow my senses extended to accept all that was happening around me, I had never felt this way before, seeing nature in its glory, like waves of beauty, in various colors, untouched by human knowledge. I felt my heart pound with excitement as I pondered all that was going on around me.
I began to pray, ‘Lord, the beauty of this earth never ceases to amaze me. How much more will be your beauty when I see you in all your glory! Thank you for all these gifts of nature, they truly show your beauty to me’.

Suddenly a sparrow flew past as I walked towards the cemetery. I thought of the words, ‘Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows’ (Matthew 10:31).
I reflected, ‘God has shown so much love to these creatures that they praise him with all the energy they have, and they depend on him for everything. How much more love does God have for us, who are created in his image and likeness!’

I went on further and sat on a bench near the cemetery. I thought about the words from Matthew and about my life, about all the moments of achievement and moments when I failed to live up to my expectations, moments when I noticed all my imperfections. Then I began to ponder about perfectionism.

I thought, ‘How can one become perfectly human? Is it even possible? Who has ever been the perfect human? Do I want to be perfect? Can I be the perfect human? If I can be perfect then why am I not?’

I felt tears roll down my cheeks as I cried. I felt anger for all the times I had sinned, when I refused God’s love, when I decided to go my own way, thinking only of myself.
If I held a mirror to my face, I would imagine seeing an ugly one, saddened by my imperfections. In the midst of silence, I found something that I had never thought possible to find in myself: I found desolation. With fear of what else might lay before me on this journey, I turned to God and asked, ‘What else do you have that could make me feel any worse than this?’ I could feel the heat on my breath when I prayed these words. Slowly I stood and walked into the cemetery thinking, ‘Why me? Why me? Why do you have to make me feel this way?’

I never got an answer until that afternoon when I sat in the dining hall having a cup of tea thinking about what had occurred earlier in the day. It suddenly struck me: my imperfections and my history are all part of me. I may be imperfect in some ways, but there are also parts of myself that are good. When I saw this I realized that if I was a painting, I would be a mixture of many colors, some dark as night, some white as light, some grayish, a picture perfected only through God’s grace. As Blessed Mother Teresa said, ‘I may be a drop of water in the ocean, but without me the ocean would be a drop less’.

You may email Martin at martinlkoroiciri@yahoo.com

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