I grew up with a lot of idealism inside. I was introspective but, coming from a middle-class family, I realized that thinking was not enough… for life was not a bed of roses. We did not have enough money to finance our studies, so we had to roll up our sleeves and work. This meant raising pigs, and putting up a sari-sari store¹ to augment our income. My father was idealistic while my mother was full of humor and a very practical person. At 14 years old, I felt attracted to the life of the saints. I thought that they fulfilled their purpose in life and left the world better than it was before. Even if their way of life was antiquated, and their asceticism frightening, I was fascinated by them, by their radicalism in loving God. Was this a call? Most probably it was, for it fired up my young heart to live for a higher kind of love.

I grew up among a lot of cousins, friends, and neighbors, playing by the sea and under the sun. Yet I always felt a bit different because I was always looking for something that would give more meaning to my life, a sort of “pill” for this confused world. At a certain point, I stopped frequenting the sacraments because they had lost meaning for me. They were not necessary for the success I was dreaming of in life.

I was finishing Biology when I was invited to a Mariapolis, a gathering of the Focolare. The youth coordinator of our diocese, who didn’t have time to choose somebody to attend it, met me by chance and asked me to represent our parish. I couldn’t believe it and was wondering why he even considered me. Obviously, he didn’t know that I felt like a soul still on earth but already in purgatory. The offer was very tempting, and I liked the idea of traveling to another island, so my meeting the Focolare was a gift from God. Through the Movement, I reconciled with God and went back to receiving the sacraments. Suddenly, I felt free.

I was attracted by the Gen, the youth of the Focolare, and was fascinated by the radical life they proposed, and later, I started to live like them. Soon we formed the first Gen unit in our city. I studied Medicine after finishing Biology, my preparatory course. Service to others, and the lure and precision of science attracted me. I started feeling the vocation to the focolare² when I was in my second year in Medicine. 

Wasn’t I attracted to get married? In my young life, the idea of getting married didn’t really attract me. Yes, I dreamed of falling in love, but getting married, or having kids, didn’t enter my mind. I could not imagine myself changing diapers, or taking care of sick babies, even if I did all these chores often, being the eldest in a family of six. I was so driven to finish my studies that I thought of nothing else. Getting married would throw me off track and prevent me from achieving that dream. As a Gen, all the friendships I had were beautiful. I also guarded my heart because I knew that one day, I would be giving myself completely to Jesus.

Fast forward to the year I entered the focolare in Cebu. At this time, it became clear that the will of God for me was to specialize in Internal Medicine. After this, I wasn’t looking for a chance to advance in my profession anymore. I was satisfied, having professorial chairs in universities and a chance of even climbing the academic ladder. However, I was offered a fellowship in Gastroenterology by my former boss. This was a chance in a million. While it was difficult to land a subspecialty training, I was handpicked for it. Besides, it came with a stipend that could help our focolare financially.

All these years, like all focolarinas, I helped in spreading the spirit of the Movement, cultivating the different local communities in Cebu, in other Visayan islands and in Davao where I was assigned for 4 years. I saw many vocations born. It was an experience of finding a hundred houses, a hundred mothers and fathers filling my heart and my soul with an incomparable joy. Until now, if not for God, I could not have imagined how one can embark on building the Movement on top of a defined career path.

Training in Gastroenterology was hard and full of sacrifices. The academic, clinical, and physical demands were very high. Those days, I would literally cry from exhaustion. There were also tensions in relationships like the time when one of my bosses always seemed to have something against me. He would pick on me, find small defects, and magnify them. Nobody is perfect and, in the job, one must think of a million details from patient care to lectures, conferences, exams, organization of the section, communications with the bigger society, as well as oversee even the adequate compensation of the office staff. I would openly say sorry, for one never goes wrong by practicing humility. I took extra care of his patients spending more time than was necessary. I avoided situations that would trigger him. However, treatment like this was beneath me, and I couldn’t take it. But I embraced Jesus forsaken in this situation, without reservations, without question, telling Him that I was ready to remain in this dark situation if He wanted it. It was enough for me that it was Him that I was loving.

I also had to finish my research. I had to work at night after being on duty for a full day for many months. All this was compensated in the end when my research was judged to be among the best for the year. Whenever I look back, I realize that only the unity with my companions in focolare made my studies possible. When I finally graduated from Gastroenterology, I feared the thought of starting a practice competing with my 31 mentors. On my first day in the clinic, I found a box. There was a simple watch inside (mine was broken) and a sizeable amount of money in an envelope. I had never received such a big amount of money as a personal gift. It was from a consultant, thanking me for helping her in her conferences, making her slides, and taking part in her research. What a gift to start my clinic with! Then the consultant I quarreled with entrusted many of his patients to me. He supported and trusted me so much that whenever he traveled, he would ask me to cover for him, plus he would tell his patients to transfer to my service. In a few months, I was able to establish a modest practice with a full share of cases, creating beautiful relationships with many. Most important of all, I became active in training new gastroenterologists. The department started formalizing my role as the Training Officer, a position reserved for those with moral integrity and aptitude to transmit to the younger generation of specialists.

When I received the announcement of my transfer to Tagaytay, it wasn’t a surprise for me. A focolarino would often tease me, hinting at this change for me. In fact, his favorite question for me was: Why do you want to die in Cebu? I knew that my practice was too beautiful to last, and that Jesus was the only one who could take it away from me. This time, he asked me if I loved Him more than anything else. And I gave Him my Yes.

It was not easy for me to transfer to Tagaytay. I couldn’t keep my disappointment. The idea of sliding into a certain mediocrity devastated me. This wasn’t what I expected Jesus would give me after what I had left. Many times, I thought of returning to where my patients, my university hospital, and my friends were waiting for me with open arms. But I knew it was Jesus, and so, I gave Him my Yes, again and again. I determined to keep Jesus among us in the focolare, giving myself fully to the tasks required of me. But then the feeling of rebellion would come again, and I would fall into a dark hole of not understanding amid the sorrow of my eternal and repetitive why?

However, my survival instinct told me that I cannot live like this forever. I had to overcome this trial. During my drives to work, I started to feel something new in the trees that spoke of time and strength. Even in the cold, the fog, and the rain, I felt myself enveloped by His love. Chiara once wrote that nature is in an eternal rapport of love for one another. They drowned what I felt inside with the beauty they transmitted. Time also had a way of calming my heart, diminishing the rebellion within me. I resolved to cut the bridge, to refrain from comparing my old with my new experience. This was not a deterioration: God wanted to give me new opportunities to grow. I only had to cut the bridge that linked me to the past, stop comparing, and open my heart to this new experience. Then I started to see the small miracles Jesus invented along the way. Both hospitals where I work acquired new equipment, I established relationships with many people, and a lot of patients began to come. Most of all, the possibility of living and building the little town of the Focolare, our City of Mary, is an experience beyond my wildest imagination. I refused many invitations to practice in other hospitals, giving priority to the needs of our “little city.” For some years now, life has been a roller coaster of joys and sufferings too, but always with the certainty that these are all invented by a God who loves me immensely. For me, this is to experience the Gospel truth that the hundredfold is a reality for whoever follows Him.

Imelda Palomino

¹ A neighborhood variety store in the Philippines

² To consecrate one’s life to God, following Chiara Lubich, by living in community in the midst of the world

³ Refers to Jesus who, on the cross, felt abandoned by His Father, and cried out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” (Mt 27:46). Chiara had understood that this was the moment when Jesus suffered the most, and therefore, the moment when He loved the most. She and her first companions then resolved to choose this particular face of Jesus, looking for Him and loving Him in the sufferings of humanity.