10 weeks after 10 weeks

This has been probably one of the few times I've stayed up past 2:30 since I came back home from Virginia.  And I really don't want to sleep just yet.  Sure, I'm super exhausted, every bone in my body aches, and there is no reason why I should lay down on my makeshift bed to go to sleep for a handful of hours just to start a new day.

I realized it has been 10 weeks since I left Virgina.  I miss it dearly.  I am homesick for the life I had over in Virginia, and memories pop up left and right, and I itch to sit down and have a deeply rooted conversation about a person's life and how God is a part of the madness.  Though I run with my arms wide open towards what I have now - a loving church and an amazing ministry with an amazing staff, a family and girlfriend whom I (try to) see once a month, and an abundance of love - i do look over my shoulder, wondering if I will have an opportunity to do Chaplaincy once again.  I miss my supervisor/fellow office chaplains, my peers who were residents and in the program.  I miss saying hi to medical staff, walking up and down the hospital, wearing a beeper, sitting in drug dependency group sessions, and just being in a room with a person.

But like I said, I am a better person.  Although I itch to have those deep conversations, I realize that I can read people a lot clearer and understand their emotions with some clarity.  I understand that my need to do stuff around the church is greater than my time or resources will always allow, and so my practice in self-care has been more important than ever.  And that my memories of Virginia will always be a source of inspiration, both in my ministries that I am doing now and in the future, as well as my faith journey to take the path that God leads you.

In response...

I wrote this email in response to an article written by Steve Lopez of the LA times

Hello Steve,

My name is Jon Visitacion, and currently I'm a High School Youth Coordinator/pastor for a church in the south bay.  This past Summer, I interned as a chaplain in a hospital setting and experienced being spiritually present with patients and loved ones going through some of the darkest times of their lives.

When I came back to my church, I gave a testimony about my experiences, which led to one of the church members handing me an article dated back on 7-17-11 titled "Floundering in the Dark" and dealt with the business of dying.  From your article, I can relate from the 'outside looking in' that dying is a bit more complicated in terms of emotions and finances.  I got to work with a hospital team called "palliative care" where all of the diagnoses and options of care were laid out on the table.  It is done in hopes that the patient and family's wishes are fulfilled to the best of their ability, being completely informed of each direction the doctors, nurses, and chaplains can go.  With that said, I saw a patient who, with the support of her family, requested to be brought back to life at all costs.  I couldn't imagine the cost that the family incurred by being in MICU for months or the multiple ER visits.

I guess that is all to say that I understand what you mean when you say the "business of dying." It is a business, and in your definition it is meant by the last few years/months/weeks/days that there is a cost, and as we age we do not prepare ourselves for the emotional or financial cost as we get closer and closer towards the end of our life.  Although we may not age well, we must try to make the attempts in whatever way we can. 

What gets people through the business of dying is the support of family, friends, and their faith.  Like how you wrote that your father fell to the ground and couldn't get up and then your mother laid beside him in the dark, we hope that there will be someone who holds us when we're alone in the dark.  I really appreciate the words you wrote, and will be keeping you in my prayers as you go through this journey with your father. 

Take care, and God Bless,

Jon

A reflection in music

All at once, the world can overwhelm you.

And you think that you have it under control but you realize that the ground you stand on isn't as firm as you thought it was, and you fall.  We keep asking ourselves if we're strong enough, but we change in midstream. 

To make the world better.
To make the people happier.
To make our lives easier.
To make the event more successful.

In light of the musical, amidst my frustrations, I think we get caught up in doing things better, simpler, faster, and from different perspectives, that we lose our own group understanding.  That's when the frustration comes: when people want to change, and others are not ready.  The change is for the common good, but if it was good already, there's no need to change.  All-in-all, the musical ran well.  The dinner ran well.  The youth, advisors, and adults did well.  The kitchen staff did well, and the cast did amazing.  And I got to hang out with my advisors.  And I got to thank my youth.  And I got to hang out with my youth. 

So eventhough i was frustrated, I really am grateful for what God has given us: through hardwork, we have dedication. Through time off, we have fellowship.  Through silly-ness, we have memories.  Through it all, we have music.

Thank you God, thank you Faith UMC, thank you youth, parents, advisors, adults, congregation and community. 

There's a world we've never seen
There's still hope between the dreams