He is and Will be Present Forever

Rosa Lina Munoz was born in Bogota, Colombia (South America) in a very spiritual and loving family. She first set eyes on Sai Baba in February of 1996 and it changed her life. With Swami’s grace, she was instrumental in launching the first Sathya Sai Baba Center of Metropolitan, NY.

I grew up with Jesus as my spiritual teacher. Easter Sunday, the day that Jesus conquered death, has always has been a celebration for me. I go to church on Easter to remind myself of the resurrected life to come. On Easter weekend 2011, I was with friends away from home.

I woke up very early that morning hearing the sad news of the passing of my beloved Swami. The force of my emotions in the first few minutes overwhelmed me. During the previous four weeks I was expecting Swami to recover, and especially during the last two weeks, I had the strong feeling that He was going to get better or do something miraculous for Easter Sunday. Tears came down as I tried to understand His departure and to give myself an explanation. I comforted myself with the idea that He had chosen Easter Sunday as the day to leave His human body. My moment of peace came when I reminded myself that Jesus and Swami are One and the same God

That Sunday morning, I went to an Easter service. All I did during the service was think about my experience with Swami and how much I needed to do to be His true devotee. I felt that I had taken His teachings for granted, and that I could have done more for my spiritual growth. But as a friend of mine later pointed out to me, I did as much as Swami had prepared me to do.

I apologized to my host and cut my visit short, rushing back to New York just in time for an evening of heart-moving bhajans [spiritual songs] at a devotee’s apartment. During the whole day, the fact that comforted me was that Swami had dropped His body on Easter Sunday, the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection. Even though I knew that Swami would always be present in my life, I kept asking Him to be there in every moment for me.

That evening after bhajans, I took the subway to go back home and got off at Bliss Street, my regular station. When I came out of the subway car onto the platform, I took a few steps then saw something on the platform. It was a shiny object that looked like a cross. I kept walking, and said to myself, “It’s a cheap metal cross,” but something inside me just said, “Stop, go back and pick it up! It’s a cross. Today is Easter Sunday, Jesus’ resurrection, and you’ve made a fuss about Easter Sunday and Swami during the whole day.  The significance of the cross is important, not the material of which it is made.”

I walked back a few steps, reached down and picked up the metal object. When I turned it over, I saw that the part that looked like a cross was formed by the neck of a black guitar and a horizontal crosspiece that read: “Hard Rock Café.” My heart started to beat faster. As I looked closer, these words were written on the guitar’s body: ”Love All, Serve All.” I closed my hand and put it over my heart, and said to myself, “Thank you, Swami. I know You’re still here and always will be. You’re my formless God.”

When I saw the photographs of Swami’s Samadhi, the first thing that caught my attention were the words “Love All, Serve All.” Yes, Swami, You are the All in this creation. To hear you in all, to see you in all, to feel you in all, that is the lesson that I need to keep working on. Thank you Swami, for reminding me of your omnipresence in all that exists.

The musical notes of my existence will continue to play toward the goal: seeing everyone as God.

~Rosa Lina Munoz, Sunnyside, New York, USA