Man up and cry

As always, I learned something when I wasn't in the mood to learn anything.

When I am too tired, too hung over, too lazy, too hungry or whatever, I always try to tell myself that I never regret going to church. Last week was no different.

Fr. Peter, international director of JRS, was in town for one night and was nice enough to celebrate a small Mass for the staff. It was a long day, and Ollie and I had JRS stuff to do that night. My mind was not in the right place to pray or listen or open myself up.

But, God had other plans.

Fr. Peter was speaking about the Gospel and how Jesus wept for the fate of Israel. He saw the troubles His people faced in the coming years and the sin and the hurt and the pain. He loved these people so much that He cried for them.

I sat, thinking about this for days. Here is what I have come up with. See, I don't cry... or at least I try not to. I want to be the strong person. I want people to be able to cry on my shoulder, not the other way around. So the few things I have seen since I've been in Bangkok that have made me cry, I just give myself a few minutes and force myself to move on.

But, as it turns out, that isn't the right move. Like Jesus in the Gospel, I suppose I should allow myself to cry. Because it's through that expression that we can find compassion. So, if it's good enough for Jesus, I suppose it's good enough for me as well.

So, moral of the blog is this. Man up and cry.