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Iman Katolik dan Kasih

crossSetelah menjadi seorang Katolik selama 28 tahun, baru sekarang tergugah hati dan pikiran. Bahwa iman yang saya yakini lahir dari sebuah kematian.

Dulu kematian di kayu salib dianggap nista, tapi sekarang dianggap agung. Ekstrim sekali peristiwa kematian nista kemudian membuahkan keagungan. Hanya satu yang dapat melakukannya, dan itu adalah kasih.

Hari Kamis Putih mengenang Yesus yang membasuh kaki para Rasul dan mengadakan Perjamuan Terakhir. Padahal Ia sudah tahu bahwa ajal-Nya hampir tiba. Lalu terpikir, tertanya, dan terjawab. Saya yang sekarang tidak akan bisa seperti itu. Kalau ajal sudah dekat, saya ingin berada dekat dengan keluarga dan orang-orang terdekat. Mungkin makan bersama, atau mengobrol bersama. Minta dukungan. Bukan malah melayani.

footwash

Hari Jumat Agung mengenang Yesus yang merelakan diri disiksa habis-habisan sampai akhirnya habis nafas-Nya. Dekat detik terakhir-Nya, Ia malah mengampuni dan mendoakan orang-orang yang habis-habisan menyiksa-Nya. Sangat menantang batas sifat manusia. Pintu maaf yang ada batasnya dan doa yang masih diutamakan untuk diri sendiri, keluarga, dan teman.

crown of thorns

Yesus selalu membicarakan kasih, bukan untung rugi. Tapi bagaimana Yesus bisa memiliki kasih sedemikian besar? Baru saya sadari, bahwa kasih bukanlah karakter Yesus, tapi pribadi Yesus sendiri. Dimana ada kasih, disitu ada Yesus. Dimana Yesus ada, disitu ada kasih.

Lalu mengapa Yesus mengajak manusia untuk mengasihi? Dan mengapa manusia butuh mengasihi?
Mungkin itulah perjalanan ziarah yang harus dilewati seorang manusia untuk menemui Allahnya. Ujung jalan yang akan diketahuinya nanti.

Perjalanan kasih menjadi hal pribadi yang dialami secara berbeda oleh tiap manusia. Tidak tergantung pada Allahnya, tapi pada manusianya.

Sekarang, momen mengenang peristiwa Paskah hampir menuju puncaknya. Momen ulang tahun iman yang lahir dari sebuah kematian. Momentum untuk mengingat kembali jalan peziarahan kita selama ini. Untuk kembali lagi berbuat dan berbuah kasih.

Selamat merayakan Paskah…

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A Girl who Said Yeses 10 Days in a Week

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It’s exaggerating. I know. Josephina is her name. And the best thing she could do is, you’ve guessed right, saying yes.

YES.

To her friends who asked her to go with them, though she has something else to do.

Sure.

To her parents who asked her to accompany them to somewhere, though she must be in other place at the same time.

Of Course.

To her co-workers who asked her to help them finish their work, though she has things to finish too.

Okay.

To her friends again. And so the story goes.

Short said, she has mastered any vocabulary that showing an agreement.

And the only time she could said no was… NO Problem.

Did she ever say the REAL no?

Unfortunately, NO.

Her favorite movie would be Yes Man, which support the idea that saying yes always could never bring harm.

Well, good thing that no one stranger to her asked her to marry him.

As other yes-person, she had tried hard to say no. She had those times, practicing in front of a mirror how to move her jaw to pronounce the clear O. But as her brain said no, her heart screamed no, her tongue muscle betrayed her. Making her said yes like people would say AMEN to their Father every time he said God Bless You.

She even tempted to do a consultation to a neurologist, to find out if there’s something wrong with her hypoglossal nerves which control her tongue.

But everyone has known how the story of this kind of person would end up. How each of those yeses would take its toll, slowly but sure. But things like go round and round in vicious cycle, has no end for her, until she met Median, who probably an angel sent from above to show her a way to exit.

“Filthy you, an egoistic and selfish persona you are.” Median once commented to Josephina when she said yes for the thousandth times.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t you realize it, miss?”

“About what?”

“That you are a filthy, egoistic, and selfish person.”

“Oh, that. I realized it so well actually. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Seriously. Do you know you are that kind of person?”

“Poor you, miss.”

“I know. Shut up now.”

Josephina has turned pale. But Median won’t stop.

“You want everyone to think you are a good person.”

“Do you understand the meaning of shut up?”

“You just want a good reputation.”

“And actually, you don’t really care to other people. You only care about what people think about you.”

Pale and paler she became. It stroked her heart right to the point where she always wonder. She might know but she can’t admit it. Now there is someone who slapped it right into her face, she has to accept it.

“Do you know how to stop?”

“Is it me to stop or you to stop?”

“Both. But don’t stop until you tell me how to stop.”

“Fair enough.“

“It was both art and logic.”

That is how Median sees in saying no. It was an art because saying no just means that it was about saying yes to another thing, which is more important.

“You know that kind of picture, where you could see a beautiful young lady or an ugly old woman.”

“And how’s that a logic?”

“It is logic that in reverse, saying yes mean you say no, you stupid.”

“You’re saying..”

“To this very time, you already said no when you said yes. You already said yes when you said no. You are a little bit slow-thinker, miss.”

“And you are hard to understand.”

Median smiled. “Fair enough”.

So, how’s the end? I let the reader decide. I bet ones interested in reading this story until the very end, somehow somewhat, there’s a bit Josephina in themselves. As it is in mine. So, this is not a story about Josephina. Let decide how the end goes alone. Fair enough, doesn’t it?

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Something to remember in 8th November

Image

Eighth November could be a special day for some people. Or a so-so day for another people. Or maybe a hell on earth, for a bunch of people.

Some people might get a new dress. Find a new book to read. Or just going to a coffee shop for regular visit. But some people might lose a job. Find that there’s nothing to eat today. Or lose a son.

Those people, who found 8th November was a special day, or just so-so, or on the other hand a hell was living on the same planet. These people, who found 8th November as a day to find a new dress, or just to go to coffee shop, or lose a job, or lose a son, shared the same air to breath. The very same formula of a paired atom of oxygen.

We bumped on. Crashed each other. Mixed on this universe.

Not everyone was a nice people on 8th November. Not everyone was super enthusiastic on that very date. Earth was a collision. One might meet someone whose son is lied on the hospital bed, waiting for the announcement of his son brain death to be established by the doctors. How’s that felt in his position? He would probably run to a traffic light and fell asleep while waiting for the traffic light to turn to green. Because maybe he had been lack of sleep for a week, giving his sleeping time up to watch his dearest son lied with lots of medicinal devices connected to sustain his life. For seconds later people would probably honked their car as loudest as it could be. Shouting words that would burn the ear. But unfortunately his ears wouldn’t feel the pain. Because there’s worse pain in his heart. That on this very day, he knew he would lose his son. On 8th November.

If only every one knew what he’s going through…

But unfortunately, not every one know. Not everyone would come to the probability that some one having a bad day on 8th November.

What would happen if no one having a bad day for a day? Everyone is having a fantastic day. What would happen? I am so curious to know it.

But tomorrow, the earth would continue to become a collision. Where the bad guy meet the good guy. The bad moments meet the good moments. Bad news meet the good news.

As it collide, earth is actually polite. One would never meet bad days forever. As one would never meet good days forever. Bad day could be the door to good day someday. As good day could be the door to bad day someday.

The message I remember in 8th November would be something I always try to remember. In good times, be humble still, and in bad times, keep hope still.

PS. For everyone who lost their loved ones in November – God be with you all, friends

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Have you read a novel titled Perahu Kertas?

ImageTrying to write this blog again after watching Perahu Kertas 2. It’s an Indonesian novel titled Perahu Kertas, written by one of my favorite author, Dee Lestari. It’s such a nice movie, even when I didn’t get the chance to see the first sequel. And I get a lot of things I like from this movie that I want to share here. A lot.

First, I really like the design of Remi’s office. It’s colorful, it’s tidy, the point is that it’s a very creative atmosphere there and I just like it so much. Second, I really like how a dream come true in that movie. When the tale written by the main character was finding its publisher and even there’s a road show for it, I just think it’s awesome. I know it was nothing to do with anything, it’s just how the story goes. Every story that depict a dream come true is an awesome one for me.

Third, I like the setting in this movie, especially when they set it in Bali. They really capture the atmosphere of Bali in this movie. And I think I dare enough to say that I get the concept of Bali more in this movie rather than in the Hollywood movie Eat, Pray, and Love. I will not start to compare the Bali setting in both movies. They are great movies. I just favored the concept of Bali in this movie so much. They really tempt me to get a time off to Bali and enjoy its ambiance. Blessed is Bali for its atmosphere, beauty, and culture.

And there still many things I like from this movie. How the wardrobe in this movie for all character was simply simple and not complicated or super stylish. In a couple of scenes, they even got the main characters dressed in a plain shirt. And they’re not displaying any latest gadget or car. Believe me, when you watched this movie in later decades, maybe you’ll assume it was produced in the earlier of 21st century based on the gadgets and vehicles they were using,

But last not least, there is a line that deep enough for me to write it down here. I know this is a drama movie, so maybe some would think this is a mushy line. And I know this is not an action movie, so there’s neither cool nor witty conversation or trick. This line even come in a question form.

It is simple. In Indonesian, it goes like this: Hati memilih, atau dipilih? To translate it in English, it could be like this I think: Is heart choosing, or being chosen?

What I like a lot about this line wasn’t just about its essence, but because this is not a statement. The fact that it is question, that’s why I like it.

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The Chosen One is not only in Harry Potter

September is here officially. And I don’t know why, when it comes to months that end with -ber (like septemBER, octoBER, etc), I always become a bit more enthusiastic and get this warm feeling . It’s like to hold a cup of tea in the middle of a freezing day. So I’d like to start it with a post that share one of my favorite valuable lesson I’ve got so far in my 25 years. This is not only my story that I would pass here, but also my brother’s.  I’ve got his permission  already – to share some of his story. So, we’re good to go. 

Men can’t name their selves at the very beginning of their lifes. But some are lucky to have a beautiful name which they like. Well, thank God I have name that I like. Karina. Actually, there was a secret hope behind my name. My parents gave me that name to wish me to become the last daughter. I have an older sister, so it makes me to be their second baby girl. Well, Kari in Javanese language means the last one going. Na are the suffix for Kari to made it become a baby girl name – Kari-na.  In another way, they wish they will have a baby boy after me.

My father really like to smoke before, until my mother can’t stand it anymore to see him wasting money for something that he would only burn. She told him to quit.  He said he would, if he had a son. He said that when I was on my mother’s womb. So when I was born, there I was named  Karina – to wish that I could be the last baby girl.

Words have power, said the wise men. So are the names. It could be my name perhaps so I did have a brother. Or it couldn’t. Only God knows. But since then, never my mom saw my dad smoking again. Never.

When my mother told that story of ‘how my dad could stop smoking’ to me, I couldn’t tell how much I proud that my father was a man who can hold his words. However, sometimes it made me wonder. Why it wasn’t me who could make him to stop smoking? Why it had to be a son to make him stop?

I usually avoid to try answering that question. Because I knew I would probably answer it in ways that hurt myself. So, I decided to just let it be like it is.

My brother, he was so lovely when he was a kid. His smile was adorable, and if there was an award for the cutest kid that time, I would dare to say that my brother would be nominated. Maybe even to win that award. Because he was super duper very berry adorable. But when he grew up, I knew he experienced bad  things in his school. I have no rights to mention the detail about what happen to him. But simply said, it was about being bullied.

At that time, no one realized that my brother was having hard time at school. I just had a nephew who were still baby, and my cousin often come to my house with his wife and his baby. So all the attention were given to my little nephew. But my brother, he never really liked to be around my cousin, his wife, and especially his baby. He even looked like that he hated the baby. All were just thinking that it was jealousy where as the youngest child, he used to be the center of attention.

I began to realize that something was going wrong with him maybe about 2 years after he started experiencing those bad things.  He acted more and more negatively each day and no more lovely gestures from him. Two years. Maybe that was too late to help him psychologically. All my family started to worry about him. But my brother was just shutting down himself. He never seemed to trust people anymore.

All my family tried to talk to him and help him. Including me, I put all my nerves every time I wanted to talk to him. Back then, my brother was easily got angry to anything and anyone. When he was angry, he would pissed every one off. So, it was very hard to talk to him. Often I got pissed too then refused to talk with him again. But I could never forgot how he once was a lovely kid. So then I tried to put all my nerves back and just get back to him.

My brother never really wanted to talk about what happen to him. I remembered there were times when I was just sitting down in his room doing nothing but only to make accompany to my brother. I forgot for how long I had to try to make him to be open with me. But one day, he finally willing to talk about that hurtful topic. About all the bad experiences he went through. And I was so sorry that my family couldn’t be there earlier for him. But I releived, that finally I could gain him back to trust someone.

By passing this story, I didn’t mean to mock my brother for being the victim of bully. Rather, he is a victor in my eyes. He’s been through hard moment, but he survived it and now achieved so much. Now, he is taking his master degree program in a public university and his professor were thinking that he had what it takes, that he was chosen to speak in the stage of international conference on nano electric research and education in Bali on 8th July 2012 ago. In that conference, he met a professor from Japan, and there’s a chance for him to continue his education there.

I didn’t mean to boast too and took all the credit for being the one that made my brother open his mouth so my family could start to help him. That is God’s mercy I think, so I could help my brother to be open to me. Maybe I wasn’t there when he had the bad times, but at least I could still be there for him after those hurtful moments. And my point is, yeah, maybe I couldn’t be the one that help my father to quit smoking. But I could be the one that help my brother.

I often wonder many things. I’ve told you before that I wondered why it wasn’t me who able to make my father stop smoking. Not just that, I also wonder why the greatest men had the best spotlight for them? Why him? Why her?  Do you know Mother Mary? My biggest question maybe something sinful. I adore Mother Mary so much, but sometimes I wonder why God chose her to become the mother of The Savior. Is it all about being ‘The Chosen One’? Chosen to do that, chosen to do this, etc.

In some point, I realized that it’s true. Yes, it is all about being ‘The Chosen One’. But, maybe the truth is: We Are All The Chosen One.

I figured out that my brother was the chosen one as His tool to bring goodness to my father, to save him from the danger of smoking. My father wanted a son for him to quit smoking. And God finally gave him my brother so he really stop that bad habit.

But, now I assume that God gave me to my parents so that I could help my brother later. I was the chosen one as His tool to bring goodness to my brother, to stay with him and help him. And the process are still going on, until now.

I believe that on this earth, there are people that only me or you who can reach them out. Either they were a friend, family, or even a mere stranger. For only me or you who can stay and bring goodness to them, God has created us ‘The Chosen One’.

I realized, not all people on earth could get the spotlight in a sparkling platform or media like famous people in this world would do. But, we have been reserved a spotlight in someone’s heart for sure.

More over, I thought God never compare how big or how grand is the assignment as ‘The Chosen One’ for each one of us. Although I couldn’t always be peaceful any time, but somehow some way – I could find peace in a fact that I also the chosen one, at least for my brother. Maybe I would be happy too if I was the chosen one for another people, or for so many people. Well, if so, I realized that God would simply created me in another way. For how God has created us, that also made us ‘The Chosen One’.

Then, maybe the biggest question is, to whom are that we become the chosen one for them? I hope that to all of you who read till this end have the answer already. If it’s not yet, may grace in this September reveal them to us. May God bless this September. (:

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There’s Something About Sweet Treat

I realized it’s been long time I didn’t post anything on my blog. When I started this blog, all my intention is just to share something to anyone who just happen to read my writing. At first I thought I had tons to share, millions to write. I made a pact to myself that I would write about once a week. Or at least once in 2 weeks. But as the time went by, I started to think different. I started to think that what I wanted to share has already been written by someone else, in better way than I would do. And then I thought I didn’t have topic that would be good enough to be shared, or I had no great idea to be written.

But today I just felt the urge to write something, to share something to anyone who would come to my blog. And to be honest, I have no idea about what I would write. Today, I saw an ice cream stand on my way to do exercise. I said to myself, NO. I couldn’t have a cup of sweet because sweet wouldn’t do good to my metabolism. But I kept staring on those ice cream until I passed them. Then, I remembered how I haven’t written anything lately. I proclaimed that I love to write, but why didn’t I write? So I said to myself, if I wanted that cup of ice cream, I would have to write something tonight.

SO, here I am, posting a post that had no exact idea. I write just for the sake of a cup of ice cream. I was tempted to write about what is so special about ice cream? What is in it that made me said to myself : I WANT THAT! I remember one phrase so well: SWEET TREAT. You know, how we will be happier for no reason after eat some sweet. Well, other might call it GUILTY PLEASURE.

When I was in medical school, I was taught about the biochemical of sweet as carbohydrate. How is the metabolism of those chains of sugar, what enzymes needed to perform the metabolism, etc. Something that made me had headache when it came to exam times. But I wasn’t taught exactly about how sweet could produce happiness (or maybe I was asleep when that topic was being discussed). But I’ve read it on health magazines or article from websites. I quote this lines from http://www.essortment.com/good-carbs-vs-bad-carbs-list-16368.html:

And sometimes it’s those “feel-good” chemicals that make it so hard to say “no” to another cookie. For humans are programmed to dive straight into sugar; a quickly digested instant burst of energy, sugar is directly related with serotonin, the “happy chemical” in the brain.

But sugar is also an instant diet breaker. White flour food items such as white bread, pasta, waffles, pancakes, cookies and baked goods are, essentially, nutritional wastelands. High in calories, low in nutrients, and usually delicious to boot, these “bad carbs” are guaranteed to be bad news for your waistline.

 Well, do you read an ice cream above? I didn’t read that. But I knew that if I continued searching, I would find it being listed on food that I should limited to consume.

HOWEVER, I know that I know better about sweet treat. Treat in my dictionary is something rewarded when we achieved something. So, I just have to achieve something when I want to enjoy it. In my case, is to write something. Well, I could simply buy it actually. But that will ruin the essence of what sweet treat means. That well ruin the spark of joy when I get it and taste it. Moreover, when I had it as a sweet treat, that would not be a guilty pleasure anymore. It’s just a mere pleasure.

Nevertheless, I realized that on the name of sweet treat too, I can’t enjoy it too much. We could never really enjoy something that we had too much, I guess. But I knew I wouldn’t have ice cream too much. First, I like ice cream but not a huge fan of it. Second, a cup of ice cream wasn’t the only of my sweet treat. I had something else that maybe consist of getting a cute bookmark. Maybe not the sweet literally, but it felt sweet to me.

After I wrote this, it came to my mind that, actually, what caused the happy chemical in the brain to be released? Is it the literally sweet treat or the ‘sweet treat’? I hope you know what I mean..

Well, I wouldn’t try to get the answer now. That would need a complex research, I thought. Maybe I’ll come to that again later. Now, I just wanted to get some sleep so I could enjoy my ice cream tomorrow. Initially, I wanted just to write maybe 2 paragraphs, just to babbling about something. I had no idea that I would end up in discussing about sweet treat and had more paragraphs than I thought where the word count would almost hit 900. For that, I totally deserve a double scoops of sweet treat. 😀

PS. I hope you wouldn’t blame me if you tempted to have a cup of ice cream too after reading this. Well, in case you want it, better to treat it like a sweet treat 🙂

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When a Girl Tries to Report Manchaster City Winning Match

When a girl with no sport field background tries to report a football match, I know it sounded like a kid trying to dig into Einstein’s formula.

But here I won’t share about how the match went or tried to analyze which strategy worked or didn’t. Because I had no idea about it. I happened to see some matches of football because I like to keep company with my dad, and he really like to see football match. So, one night, 2 days ago, when I saw my dad set his eyes on a football match, I sat next to him and joined him.

Then he said, “If Manchaster City won, they would become the champion of the league.”

I said, “What league? Chealsea has already won.”

Yeah, that was just to tell how much I didn’t know about football. But there’s one thing I’ve learned from that match that I wanted to share here.

The winning match of Manchaster City was the best scenario of all possible scenario about its winning: to lead first than to make mistake and almost lost, but finally to come back and win it.

When the QPR made their first goal, I almost screamed. I had already taken side to the Manchaster City since I knew that it would be their first victory again after 44 years (girls like a little bit drama, don’t they?). And the worse is how was the goal made.

For they who maybe didn’t watch it, I’d try to describe it like this:  It was a bad mistake from one of the Manchaster City’s back. He tried to head the ball to move it forward, but the ball got backward instead, and passed right to the QPR’s striker. One second later, a goal for QPR was made.

Here’s what I thought about it: that’s the worst scenario of almost winning match ever. They almost won it, but a mistake was made. That man who made a mistake was completely a wrong guy who did wrong in a wrong situation. I even pitied him that he could be a public enemy.

Later, the second goal was made. I thought, there’s no chance Manchaster City would win. So I went to sleep.

When I woke up and found out that Manchaster City turned out to be the winner, I was surprised, stunned, amazed, happy, it was something indescribable feeling in a positive way.

Because, not only it turned from the worst to be the best scenario of a wining match, they also got the recognition as the winner from many of the Manchaster United’s supporters who previously wouldn’t recognize them.

So, the point that I’ve got here is: If I wanted the best scenario to ever happened to me, I would have to prepare to have the worst scenario first.

Just when I had my worst situation, there I had the chance to get through it and turned it to be the best situation ever.

So, I think, when we’re in the middle of a bad situation that things seem can’t be worse anymore,  let’s get through it, and be prepare for the best. Because the worst is the recipe to be the best.

I imagine if Manchaster City would won by 1 – 0 to QPR and never experienced the almost lost incident, maybe it would be just like another winning champion match. There will be tears and laughs when they lifted up the trophy, but not exagerratedly like yesterday. There will be excitement roar from their supporters, but not super gloriously like yesterday. And most importantly,there won’t be a true recognition from the MU’s and other team supporters like yesterday.

But when I think about it again, I wonder was it just luck that brought the Manchaster City to become the winner? Well, I then came up with this thinking:

The worse of the worst: Manchaster City didn’t win at all after having the chance to win. They finally lost.

The better of the best: They come back again, no matter how many years after that, and bring the trophy home.

So, if it’s not the best ending, it could be possibly not the ending.

Tonight, when I worried about all my problems and start to get depressed, I try to think of it as my worst scenario. And that’s a good start to have my best scenario.

This is probably how God wants to teach me about how to compose myself:  by showing me an amazing match of Manchaster City vs QPR. Funny, but I got it.