Finding my "KUYA"

The final Thursday in March a marbled sunrise of gold rays and white clouds erased a sleepless night. It was time to write, but by noon I confessed to my eldest son over the phone, “I can’t write! I can’t do it!”

This was NOT my response to the question Miguel posed to me last week Wednesday, “Does God want you to arrange flowers or to write?” He knew I was into a search for ways to arrange silk tropical flowers rather than a new blog on my laptop.

I paused, then asked Miguel how he would answer the question, -- if he was I. God muzzled retorts, yielding to our double resolution to seek His affirmation for each of us.

For myself God’s amen came last Saturday's evening worship. Sunset’s glow brightened the blue and white robes of Jesus rising into heaven in the main stained glass window. In pre-service practice our Praise Team’s instruments and vocals soared unified to heaven.

Practice chitchat was upbeat. One had a possible job. Another had all negatives on his medical tests. Another talked about his daughter’s wedding plans. The new acoustic guitarist, Ricardo grinned as he showed me photos of his two sons. He pointed to a photo of his granddaughter as a child then laughed as he said she was really fourteen.

In the break before service, I asked him where he used to live. Ricardo verbally opened his suitcase of jobs- a K through 12th grade teacher, an insurance then financial consultant, the music director of bells and choirs at a major church.  In Santa Fe he said he wrote articles so well, he became a managing editor.

Quickly I handed him a piece I wrote the day before Miguel asked me his piercing question. I hurried to my worship mike.

After a final song of “My Life is in you, Lord,” Ricardo privately commented on my writing. His comments blessed me just as much as our hurried chats about Chicken Tinola, Pancit, Bibinka cake, and other island treats. I should have had him over to cook.

Son of an American and a Filipina, Ricardo spoke perfect American English but unlike me, he understood Tagalog.  Since his kids were older than mine, he was like an older brother, or "Kuya" in Tagalog. The next time I saw him I vowed, in respect, to address him as Kuya.

Instead Sunday evening Kuya suffered a major heart attack. On Monday I learned his next 48 hours would be critical. Many Mt. Calvary folks signed onto the Prayer Vigil my beloved hubby encouraged me to start.

Still, how could anyone recover from blocked major arteries, diabetes, and a failing kidney?

* * *

On Friday I interrupted another floral search to write this. Ricardo attended our church for nearly two years. These past months Ricardo directed Bell Choir and for the past three weeks he joined our Praise Team, loving the blend of liturgical order and contemporary songs. For our beloved brother this Saturday our church has two services, the first, a memorial, the second, evening worship with his favorite songs.

Through tears I will look to the stained glass depiction of Jesus' resurrection. Death will happen, but those in the Lord will be resurrected in hope, strength, abundant life in the heavenly kingdom where one day I'll find Kuya in multilingual joy.