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I guess you can
say my journey to Emmaus started well before Friday, September 2,
which was the first day of Emmaus 2005. It began on the first day, of
the first Emmaus I attended, which was in 1991. I haven’t been a part
of the Dong Hanh family in any official capacity for quite some time.
That is to say that I have not been an active member of a particular
DH group for the last 8 years. This time was spent wandering from one
group to another, from one regional gathering to another. Fortunately,
wherever I went, there was always at least 1 group willing to adopt me
as one of their own. I am and continue to be grateful for their
kindness, but it isn’t quite the same as being part of your own group.
As social of a person as I am, it’s still a challenge to walk into an
unfamiliar environment and try to blend in. This becomes more
difficult as I get! older. My friends from before are either no longer
there or they are preoccupied, and rightfully so, with their wives and
kids. It’s such a strange feeling.
When I learned
there would be an Emmaus this year, I was naturally pleased to hear
the news. After all, it had been 6 years since the last one. Prior to
that, it was an annual event like no other. Nho’m Nguồn Sống, my "alma
mater" if you will, would always be very excited and filled with
anticipation for Emmaus each year. Plans to borrow the church van,
discussion of who would drive (which always turned out to be either my
sister or me, by the way), plans to go early Friday so that we can
head over to Bolsa before actually going to the retreat site and a
many other preparations took place a couple of weeks before Labor Day
weekend. All of these thoughts came flooding back despite the fact I
was thousands of miles away from all of you. Then reality set in. !
I’m on the east coast; Emmaus is on the west coast. Was it worth the
trip? Would I still know anyone? Would it be the same? Among other
questions, these really put the idea of attending this year on the
backburner.
Emmaus did not
re-enter into my mind until mid summer. After some discussion and
deliberation, I figured it was a good opportunity to reconnect with my
old friends and relive the wonderful memories I have of Emmaus.
Although the official theme of Emmaus this year was "Chúng Tôi Đến Thờ
Lạy Ngài" a recurring, underlying theme among all of our DH gatherings
is the thought of being welcomed home. And of course in many ways I
felt that at Emmaus. However, it still felt as if I was always
searching for something, perhaps searching for a place I can call
home. A physical home? A spiritual home? An emotional home? I don’t
know. All I know is that it seems that I’m always searching. This
reminds me of a song (for those who know me, using mus! ic to relate
to my life isn’t uncommon) by Billy Joel, "River of Dreams." In it, he
sings:
In the middle of
the night
I go walking in my sleep
From the mountains of faith
To a river so deep
I must be looking for something
Something sacred I lost
But the river is wide
And it’s too hard to cross
And even though I know the river is wide
I walk down every evening and I stand on the shor!
e
And try
to cross to the opposite side
So I can finally find out what I’ve been looking for
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the valley of fear
To a river so deep
And I’ve been searching for something
Taken out of my soul
Something I would never lose
Something somebody stole
I don’t know why I go walking at night
But now I’m tired and I don’t want to walk anymore
I hope it doesn’t take the rest of my life
Until I find what it is that I’ve been looking for
This song from
Billy Joel is somewhat emblematic of what my life has been. This
notion of searching for something hits close to home for me. The
analogy of walking down to the shore and trying to walk across the
shore is me waking up every morning to begin that search again. Forget
the fact that I am listening to the song, but it’s just that I
sense... no, not a sense, but a conviction that I know what it is that
I am missing. But like the lyrics above, "I don’t know why I go
walking at night, but now I’m tired and I don’t want to walk anymore.
I hope it doesn’t take the rest of my life until I find what it is
that I’ve been looking for." I’m guessing (or maybe hoping?) you’re
wondering what it is that I’m missing. Well, let’s just say for now,
it is my own secret.
This idea of what
it is that I am searching for has been a process of much deliberation
and intense discernment. It certainly continues to this very moment. I
was fortunate enough to be a part of the Dong Hanh family at a
relatively early, yet crucial, stage of my life. I first joined nho’m
Nguồn Sống the summer of 1991. I was entering college and had the wild
notion that I thought I knew everything. As I mentioned earlier, I was
invited to attend my first Emmaus that same year. I accepted under
duress and with much (ultimately futile, may I add) protest. My images
of Linh Thao, as it was referred to back then, stemmed from my older
sister’s experiences. As it is with DH tradition, the meetings were
often held at member’s homes. Our house was a popular destination and
in my early teens, images of lights off, quiet prayer and reflection,
soft music in the background and of course, the oddest thing... where
all would "xoa tay" instead of clapping was simply too weird for a 13
year old to take! So 5 years later, embedded with these images, I
reluctantly packed up my things and waited patiently for my ride to
take me to my first Emmaus in San Diego.
Despite my best
efforts to sabotage the weekend so that I could go back to my parents
and tell them how miserable I was, my Emmaus experience turned out to
be incredible! Looking back, I can say with utmost confidence that
that was the pebble thrown in the pond to which nearly 15 years later
the ripple effect from that singular pebble still reverberates and
remains vitally important to my existence. I don’t say this to convey
visions of grandeur. I say it because it is a simple and sincere faith
through which my Dong Hanh experiences have helped shape the way I
strive to live each and every day. While I fail far too many times in
striving to live a "saintly" life, I am heartened to know that all of
you are sharing this beautiful struggle with me. Along that journey, I
have learned many things.
I have learned
that discernment, reflection, prayer, gratitude, faith and family are
the cornerstones of not only my Dong Hanh experiences, but of my daily
experiences. It is through these elements and people that help me
realize the things I am blessed with and the things I feel are missing
in my life. Whenever I encounter tough times, my parents remind me,
"Con đừng có lo nhiều quá!" God will get you through, not somehow, but
TRIUMPHANTLY!" Armed with this thought, I forge ahead knowing that if
I continue to trust in Him, it provides the grace for me to believe
the unbelievable. While it never excuses my failures, it lets me know
that I’m allowed to fall, it allows me to be human. Through these
experiences, I’ve come to understand that both the greatest challenge
and the most wonderful, incredible feeling is LOVE.
While there are
many tenets of this Love, I re-discovered some of it in the form of
friendship at Emmaus 2005. Being with old friends made me feel at
home. An old friend who I first met 15 years ago, Mr... oops, I mean,
Dr. Vincent (Dat) Nguyen and I had the opportunity to take a nice,
long walk! Although it’s been years since we last spoke, it was as if
time had never passed. He gave me a present to which I made a
promise... and you know what anh Dat, I’ve been keeping that promise.
I do it every day on the subway as I go to work. Another experience to
which I’ll never forget is when Linh and I were sitting on the steps
Saturday afternoon and we both agreed that it was like a giant family
reunion. The both of us were kidding with anh Trung and as anh Trung
shared, it was then that he felt he was living in the moment. I was
too! Kids running around and having a blast, the older kids hanging
out together and telling funny stories, and the adults sharing the
incredible life experiences with each other. The only thing missing
was the BBQ roaring in the background. It felt like home. I traveled
over 3,000 miles to be with my Dong Hanh family... and they welcomed
me home with open arms.
This is my
journey. this is my Emmaus. This search that I have been taking with
many of you and with my family has allowed me to understand that all
that is around me... all the glory that is God... all of that is LOVE.
The hope, the search, the discovery, the experience, the loss and the
eventual re-discovery of Love is all part of this journey. It is the
hope of Love that brings me to the river every night. It will be the
experience of Love that will bring me across the river that seems so
deep, through a river that seems so wide.
God bless each
and every one of you on your journey... as you discover your own
Emmaus.
Peace,
TPNNYC
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