(featured image is St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City taken in March 2016)

A few months ago, I attended the funeral of a family friend who had passed away. The family friend was an Adventist, coming from a religious sect of Protestantism, which had split from Roman Catholic Church during the Reformation. When I entered the Adventist church, the first thing I noticed is that there were no religious symbols, such as crosses and statues of Saints, adorning the church. There were no funeral rites in the funeral service made for the family friend who passed away. The pastor went on a ten minute speech about how the family friend is with God, failing to send a clear message that brings comfort to the grieving family.

Not too long ago, my mother was diagnosed with cancer and was forced to take an extended absence from work to recover from surgery and treatment. Sacrifices on my time were made, as I took time off during my work day to drive my mother to her doctors’ appointments. My patience was tested, as some doctors failed to convince me that they know what they are doing when prescribing my mother medications and when assessing her risk of getting the cancer again using genetic testing. My faith in God was tested for the umpteenth time, as I questioned what could have been done in the past to prevent my mother from getting cancer. My thoughts were put to the test, as I worried how much of a burden this will be mentally and financially, instead of focusing on taking matters one step at a time.

A month following my mother’s surgery, we found out from the doctors that she will undergo radiation therapy five days a week for four weeks. Her treatments take place in the early morning before I go to work, so there is no need to take time off from work during the day. I originally planned to take my mother to her morning appointment on her first day, and then let her take Uber for her remaining appointments. Yet after the first day, I was compelled to remain committed in supporting my mother and taking her to her appointments each morning.

One of the beauties life offers us is that we ask and wish for one thing, and then we experience something totally different from what we originally expected. In this case, I wished to wake up earlier on a regular basis, and then was granted with an opportunity to wake up early to take my mother to her morning appointments.

On the third day of taking my mother to her appointment, we drove through the Hollywood Hills during dawn. As the sun rose behind the hills, I experienced a breakthrough which won’t be forgotten anytime soon. I told myself that no matter what happens, I will live in a beautiful state.

What does living in a beautiful state entail? Expressing gratitude that I can see with two eyes and run with two feet. Being thankful I woke up another day to move the needle towards cultivating patience and remaining grounded as a man. Being thankful that what had happened were “best case scenarios” in my mother’s journey to overcoming her illness. Being awakened by the crisp 40ºF morning weather surrounding my face, knowing that 20 days of driving in the early mornings do not define the remaining 20,000+ days I expect to have in my life. Not worrying about the past and matters beyond my control, focusing on what I can control in this moment.

I sat in church one Saturday evening, reflecting on the struggles my family had experienced the past couple of months. When I saw the cross hanging in the front of the church, I realized why the pastor’s message during my family friend’s funeral failed to resonate with me. The cross, to me, symbolizes the struggles we must face to learn the life lessons that transform us into better versions of ourselves. Jesus Christ makes the concept of heaven and salvation relatable to us, bridging the gap between what lies ahead and what we must do in this moment to get there. He presented us with a new opportunity to use our imperfections and brokenness as inspirations towards living righteously, not simply relying on knowing and following Scripture. Seeing someone whom we relate to overcome their own struggles inspires belief and confidence within us that we, too, can do the same. Without someone bridging the gap, words do not carry any weight in which we can resonate with.

Without the cross or statues of Saints adorning churches, we do not find those people who are just “one or two steps” ahead of us for inspiration on how to take action towards living a wholesome, faithful life. (Growing up as children, who did we often relate more with? Relatives and friends a few years older than us? Or our parents? It’s a similar principle!)

So what does the cross mean to me?

It means humbly accepting my life in this moment and then finding the blessing in the trial, excited on the person I will soon become.  

It means believing that someone already experienced something worse than what I can possibly imagine, achieving greatness in a way that flips the script on what we originally thought greatness was.

It means accepting that people, even those closest to me, won’t care or understand the pains and struggles I am experiencing. We can turn to the cross and the Saints for comfort, assuring ourselves that we are not the only ones going through a challenge.

It means fully bearing the responsibility that comes with people relying on me. Rather than tell people how they should do things (as that’s just rah-rah stuff lacking substance), I show them the way through my commitments and letting the results speak for themselves. I worried over my job performance and how colleagues will react to me constantly taking time off work during the day. Eventually, my performance was just as good, if not better, than not taking time off work and my colleagues privately commended me for supporting my mother.

It means committing each day towards living in a beautiful state. We all are clever in coming up with excuses, rationalizing why we have not lived the life of our dreams and why we did not fully reach our potential. It all boils down to taking personal responsibility and drawing a line in the sand, telling how it is instead of telling how it might be.

I can relate that it is not easy being fully honest with ourselves and carrying the cross of life’s challenges. Yet, carrying our cross is part of our duty in this world, showing those around us that they too, are more than capable of achieving greatness. Will we be disappointed carrying our crosses, wanting to raise our hands and give up when the pain feels unbearable? Yes! And…that should not stop us from continuing on, little by little, everyday, towards living a rich life made up of dark colors from the bad times contrasting with the bright colors from the awesome times. Doing so makes you a badass. Doing so makes you more than qualified. Most importantly, doing so is what we are meant to do, leaving the world a better place than when we first came.