Catalysts for Change Part I: Aligning Time and Space

“What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” -Romans 8:35, 37-39
 
There are events in one’s life that can either break you or build you up. This personal testament seeks to highlight and witness the power of God over a portion of my life as a young adult. The details for this story are meticulous as the next. One thing is certain; God is always on time and never late. Only when I have sought the silence in the noise, have I heard the gentle whisperings of God’s revealing voice. I am often told that my stories should be written down in a book and shared with other people. Still, for several years, I have kept my personal revelations to myself out of prudence and discernment. The more interactions and conversations I have shared with other people, the more God has affirmed me on the timing for disclosing my anecdotes. Should the reader be captivated by the exactitude of the details, please note that I am no saint, but rather a sinner constantly seeking God’s redemptive miracles. It is fair to mention that God reciprocally acts and operates in our lives with unerring precision, but we are often distracted by the world and miss His unending promises. My journey, while on the veil of faith, has been torn myriads of times by the vile venom spited by the world’s hatred. Throughout my life’s events, I have gone from hoping in God, then losing that hope, questioning His plans, and awaiting several years to see His transfiguring results. In our current “drive-thru culture”, one expects God to magically grant our hearts’ desires not realizing that God utilizes our broken hearts (in space and time), our weakness, and brokenness to transform us into catalysts for change. And so, my story begins.

In 2013, I married my best friend from high school. While not “high school sweethearts”, Mariela and I went to prom together and were saddened by the distance we experienced when I went to college in 2003. While in high school, we met during our junior year in our American History class. Since I was captivated by Mariela’s beauty and charm, I specifically prayed to God to sit her next to me. In the middle of the school semester, God answered my prayer, and my American history teacher sat Mariela next to me. Mariela and I became good friends despite our distinct nationalities (I’m from Cuba and she is from Ecuador). The rest is “history”. God never fails to be our life’s masterful and grand comedian. As our deep friendship grew, I believe God solidified our relationship when I invited her to go to Encuentros Juveniles, a young adult Catholic movement (founded in 1973 in the Archdioceses of Miami) which invites young adults ages 14-25 to have a personal and profound encounter with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. This experience developed in me a genuine Platonic affection toward Mariela as our friendship deepened. While it pained me that her feelings for me were not mutual, my affection for Mariela became my primordial mission to rely on God's faithful lesson to “Let go and let God!”. Throughout my college years, Mariela and I checked in with each other to see how life was going and constantly rekindled our friendship despite the distance. In 2007, instead of returning home to Miami, Florida, I went away for two more years to the state of Kentucky as a long-term missionary volunteer. Upon hearing the incredible work Reverend Ralph Beiting was doing by helping the people in the Appalachian region, I answered the vocation to become an AmeriCorps volunteer and tutor elementary school-age children in Eastern Kentucky. Upon my return in 2009, Mariela and I reconnected and began dating. As it turned out, I had become a more seasoned individual, and a more uniform beard had graciously grown instead of the former, adolescent Mexican mustache. That was Mariela's way of affirming I had become more handsome and suitable through the vintage eyes of transpired time.

Our courtship relationship began with deep sorrow. In less than a month from dating, Mariela lost her maternal grandmother to cancer on November 11th, 2009. The date is important to mention because during our high school years, Mariela and I joked on seeing the time “11:11” on the clock. It was our designated and innocent moment to pause and make a wish for our lives. I took this simple yet profound practice to my college years and even to my missionary time in the Appalachian Mountains. Whenever “11:11” sprung about, one could rest assured, I would pray for Mariela and for her future endeavors. Little did I know, I was virtuously praying for my future spouse. Again, God never fails to be our grand comedian.

Saddened by the reality of death, Mariela never got to say goodbye to her grandmother. However, Mariela did travel to Ecuador for her funeral. We could not believe Teresita (“Mama Tere” as she was dearingly known) had passed on “11:11” as we used to revisit during our high school years with our view on the clock. Was God revealing His plans to us years before Mariela grandmother’s death? Stronger evidence diverted our fleeing skepticism. Further, Mariela recounts an incredible detail I personally witnessed when I visited her grandmother’s tomb about 10 years later after her death in 2019. As Mama Tere’s casket was lowered down during her funeral, Mariela noticed a peculiarity that still sends chills down her spine. Disappointed by not being able to tell her grandmother she had begun dating me, what Mariela saw next was an affirmation from God that her grandmother knew about our courtship relationship. Apparently, in my younger years, upon meeting me once (a detail that I do not recall), Mariela’s grandmother had advised her to never lose my friendship and to keep me as “one of the good ones”. As evidenced by Divine Providence, immediately to the right of Mama Tere’s tomb, a man with my very name was interred next to her. The man’s second last name (Hispanic nationalities have the custom of assigning two last names to their citizens; first last name from the father and second last name from the mother) was Cáceres. Now, in Spanish “casar” means to unite in marriage or to join as husband and wife, a word that ties in with the Latin word casare of the same meaning. In 2013, Mariela and I would marry on July 12th, a day after her deceased grandmother’s birthday. Did I mention that Mr. Cáceres was born on September 8th? September 8th is the Feast Day of Our Lady of Charity, patroness of Cuba. Another impressive detail. Also, let it be known to the reader that September 7th is my own birthday.

Beloved brothers and sisters, God sees beyond our nationality, beyond our land, property, time, and space. His language is that of love. And, because nothing can separate us from His love, His details for our lives are riveting and extraordinary as the next. Are you noticing God's details in your life? In the next sequel, I will relay the story of how I fought for the battle of my nursing vocation based on a message given to me by the Blessed Virgin Mary.

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"Thou knowest, O my God, that it is neither from ambition nor the love of glory that I make war on the enemies of Thy name, but in order to strike terror into those that blaspheme it."

-St. Ferdinand III of Castile