A Child's Plea

There are certainly times when I wonder what on earth (or what in heaven) God is doing with my life.  When I truly submit to His will, perhaps then I will be consoled, but in the meantime, I find myself grasping at the hem of Christ's garment, hoping that there is a sliver of healing to be found there.  Yet at this time, Christ stares at me lovingly, yet chooses to refrain from performing a bold miracle for me in this present time.

I have often asked the question to myself, but mostly to God: "Why?".  And it still remains the most pressing question.  "Why, God?  Just, why?"  Sometimes I have asked this question in extreme anger and frustration - as well as in tears.  Other times I have asked the question as though it were a plea or petition of sorts - like that of a child going to her mother or father to ask permission for something they think is good for them. 

And, to take the analogy a little further, if a child goes running to his father when he has cut himself, a father would not be one to let his child suffer and continue to bleed.  On the contrary - he would rush to attend to the needs of his own beloved child, washing the child's cut under cold water, and placing a bandage on the cut.

Likewise, Christ rushes towards us when we are in need of His tender love and mercy.  He does not hesitate to come to us in our need - so long as we are aware of our own need.  For, the physician cannot come to a patient who does not acknowledge or recognize that he is in need of care.

Yet there are times when a bandage would be of no use to the child.  Sometimes the suffering the poor child endures is of a kind that the parent can only assist in an intercessory way, that is, through prayer.  Sometimes, there is no explanation to the child's suffering - it simply is.

Yes, God our Father sometimes permits us to suffer, but he does not do so unnecessarily.  If He needs to prevent it, He will.  I firmly believe that there are many sufferings - be it illnesses, sicknesses, or even conflicts - that God actively chooses to intervene for us for our own sake.  Yet I wonder: Do we even recognize those times when God intervenes for us?

Or is it the other way around?  Are we so focused on the times that God does not intervene right away - or even in a way that we expect or hope for - that we fail to see the times that He is so gracious to us?  I think it is very easy to slip into a mentality of, "Well, God could heal me right now, but He's not. WHY?"  And, in a certain sense, this is a valid question.  Yet, if we truly trusted in God's will, we could ask for healing, but wouldn't we still be open to whatever He has permitted for us to go through?  That is the most challenging statement to hear - especially for myself.  Sure, we can ask God why He permits us to suffer so much.  Sometimes, there is a clear answer.  And sometimes... the answer remains veiled from us.

And yet, in the midst of all my sufferings, I desire to remain faithful.  I desire to remain hopeful.  I desire to remain joyful.  I will admit... No, I'm not always faithful.  No, I'm not always hopeful.  No, I'm not always joyful.  But, in spite of the times where I have proven unfaithful, despairing, and miserable, I am still reminded of the two verses from the Gospels: "...Take up your cross and follow me" (Mt. 16:24).  And: "For my yoke is easy, and my burden light." (Mt. 11:30).

Christ certainly has given us crosses to bear in this life.  But He did not call us to bear them alone.  We, as Christians - as the Mystical Body of Christ - are called, not to isolate, not to carry on in self-pity, but to.... (as in the wise words of Samwise Gamgee from Lord of the Rings) to, "Share the load".  

Christ encourages us, especially throughout the Scriptures, to yes, take up our cross, but to not be afraid to go forwards in bold confidence, trusting in His love and mercy.  We are called to bear our crosses unashamedly, leaning on the support of our beloved Christ, who indeed invites us not only to share the load with him, but also with our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ - to share in the trials of the Church Militant.

Putting Things into Perspective

And so... we have entered into the month of October.  I have a strong suspicion that this year isn't going to creep by - rather, it is going to fly by, in the best way possible.  Yet, that doesn't change the fact that each day is either slipping by or being savoured - which one is it for me?

It is a challenge, indeed, to savour each day, both the good and the bad ones, yet isn't this precisely what we are called to do as Christians?  For, what is time, after all, to our beloved Father in Heaven but that which shapes us into who we are to become?  As it says in the Scriptures, "But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day" (2 Peter 3:8).

For myself, reading that verse, I am reminded of the fact that it is often the smallest and littlest of things that have the greatest impact.  It's all a matter of putting it into perspective.
How often do we think of the fact that our small actions throughout the day - such as doing an authentic charitable act for a brother or sister - are either pointing us towards eternal salvation or away into eternal damnation?

It is indeed mind-boggling to think of that jarring truth.  Yet, in light of that truth, it should not be discouraging to us to know that even one of our days can be like "a thousand years" to our Heavenly Father.  Rather, this truth should inspire us - to live our lives as though tomorrow might never come - that instead, Christ is waiting eagerly for us, and that we should always anticipate being with him, and that we are ready to be received into Heaven.

And that's the striking beauty of it all!  Odd, isn't it, how these things, which matter the most, often slip our minds during the mundane day-to-day tasks that we are called to do?  Yet, if we make each act during the day an intentional step towards loving our Lord, we are precisely being led to eternal salvation.  And this is the truth that should excite and invigorate us.  How awe-some it is, that our Lord made it so that the actions we do with charity (the love that Jesus speaks of in the Scriptures) are actually leading us closer to Him.  Amazing - if you ask me.

Yet, this revelation does not come without its struggles.  What about the times that we are called to act charitably, and we fail to do so?  Well, this is when Christ calls us back to Himself through the mercy of His Cross.  "[For] In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace...." (Ephesians 1:7 - emphasis added).  Christ is merciful to us.  If we simply are willing to ask for his forgiveness,  He comes to us immediately in mercy and in love.  The "Divine Mercy" is indeed a very real and beautiful thing.

So, in light of all these beautiful and awe-inspiring truths, where do we go from here?  After all, I did say it was simply a matter of "putting things into perspective". ;-)
Yes, it is indeed a matter of "putting things into perspective".  The simplest and littlest actions make the world either a more beautiful or a more broken place.  And so, with that, I challenge each of us, to make the world, through our daily mundane tasks, a more beautiful place, despite having been broken.

Let us savour the beauty of each day, at the end of each day, recalling to mind all the things that we have done, both good and bad, and offer it all up to Christ, who knew, as He suffered out of love for us on the Cross, that we would fall from time to time.  Yet Christ's mercy remains triumphant.  Let us then indeed savour the beauty of each day, for this is the day God has given us.

A Month of Beginnings and Ends

September.  It's already September.  And here I am, pondering the beauty of beginnings and ends - the tail end of summer, with all its warmth and long days coming to a close, the beginning of fall starting to send inklings of its arrival through the trees whose leaves have already begun changing colour.

Yes, it is indeed the dawn of a new season - in each of our lives, and especially in my own.

I often ask myself the question: Where do I go from here?  And the answer isn't always clear.  Sometimes, it requires a bit of discernment to know where God wants me to be.  Yes, there's that somewhat "infamous" word: discernment.  But it shouldn't have to be disquieting to any of us.  In truth, it should be an invitation to us - an invitation to open ourselves up to exploring the good and wholesome possibilities that God has in store for us.

Discernment is a matter of being open - it requires humility and perseverance.  Humility, in being open to plans and ideas other than our own, and perseverance, in that God isn't necessarily going to make immediately apparent to us what is the best choice.

And that's exactly what it was like for me this summer.  I suffered a lot, having not taken care of my mental health at all - yes, I did indeed suffer as a consequence of that.  I have realized just how important it is to truly and properly take care of myself.  It doesn't mean being selfish, or always getting what I desire, but rather... it means attending to your own needs in so far as it is the duty of the moment.  What do I mean by that?

I mean that doing the duty of the moment is the best possible thing for us.  I would actually challenge ourselves to deepen our understanding of this practice by saying that it is not merely the "duty of the moment", but the "sacrament of the moment" - in a certain sense.  Why do I say such a thing?  Well, what is a sacrament?  As Catholics understand it, a sacrament is literally a sign which points us towards us towards something else, namely God Himself.  And isn't that what happens when we are doing the "duty of the moment", serving God as He as asked us to do?

Back to my earlier point... (yes, it's still related - I promise).  Now, as I had mentioned earlier, God does not always make it apparent to us what we are asked to do - He often, if not always (except for some extraordinary circumstances perhaps) invites us into the beauty of discerning.  Yes, it is hard at times.  Yes, it is not always clear what we are called to do.  And yet, that is precisely what discernment is supposed to help us with.  Through going to prayer, receiving direction from mentors, and simply by weighing and considering the options, we are actually already practicing discernment.

And that's the beauty of this new season.  There are (and will be) many ups and downs, many highs and lows in this new season, and many changes.  And yet, in spite of all this, our greatest aid in this season of life is the gift of discernment.  Yes, it takes time to discern.  Yes, takes time to weigh all our options.  But when we allow ourselves to be guided by the Holy Spirit, He will (within His own time) inspire us to choose the best possible good.  And, in the midst of all the changes, it is most important to stay grounded in the Eucharist, and in the Mystical Body of Christ, which we are all members of.

So, in this month of beginnings of ends, let us all embrace the aid of discernment, the blessings and graces of the many small "sacrament of the moment" opportunities, and the Real Presence in the Eucharist.

A Reflection on Work and Rest

We've already entered into the month of August.  Summer always flies by, doesn't it?  Yet we, at least as Westerners, all have this idea engrained within our minds that summer is for a combination (or all) of these three things: vacation, rest, and relaxation.  And I myself would say I have adopted this mentality too.  I'm not saying this is a bad mentality to adopt - certainly.  But over the few months, my idea of what a summer ought to look like has shifted.

Yes, we are all called to rest.  I'm certainly not denying that aspect of our lives.  Even God Himself has asked us to rest on the seventh day of the week.  Our bodies are indeed capable of work, but God did not intend for us to work without taking time for rest.

Going down a side tangent... sometimes, we are placed, whether by choice or not, into situations where it appears - at least on the exterior - that we are not needed.  Where am I going with this, you might ask.  Often, more often than not, we tend to put our worth in the work we do in our day to day lives.  In a simplified phrase, "My work determines my worth".  Yet, this mindset is very damaging.  When was there ever a time where God told us that our dignity was to be measured by the work we do?  If our dignity - in particular, I am referring to our value and worth as a human person - is determined by the amount of hours we put in, or the quality of our work, or the position we are in, or our social status - if we adopt this mindset - how are we ever to treat everyone with equal dignity?

And yet, that is the society we live in today - it is quickly becoming utilitarian.  "My work determines my worth".  Oh, if we only knew the dangers behind this mindset.  

Yet I'm not here to talk about the doom and gloom of utilitarianism.  No, rather, I am going to focus on the aspect of rest in regards to work - an aspect of work which is often, especially in today's society, overlooked.

Rest.  What comes to mind when we imagine the word, "rest"?  It doesn't even have to be sleep.  The "sensations", if you will, that we often experience when we imagine "rest" are akin to contentment, stillness, and peace.  And dare I say, it is not just me when I mention these things?  These experiences are not at all far off from what we mean when we say the word: "rest".

And isn't it peace that we all so deeply desire?  When we truly enter into rest, we are able then to enter into real contentment, into real stillness, real peace.  And isn't that the goal?  We are created for union with God, who wants to give us these things eternally!  So, when we take a moment, or a day, or whatever time is allotted to us for rest, I would encourage all of us to enter deeply in to that rest in order to be strengthened for the work that is to come.

I am reminded of the story of Martha and Mary.  Though they both had different roles, we are called to imitate both women at different times in our lives.  Yes, Martha was "busy", so to speak, doing the tasks that were required of her.  Yes, Mary was the one who came to sit and listen and Jesus' feet.  But can we not also see how, at different points during our lives, we are called to adopt the position of Martha, and at other points, Mary?  Jesus calls us to rest with Him, yes.  But He also calls us to action.  Think of when he sends the Apostles out; when he tells them, "Go and make disciples of all nations..." (Mt. 28:19).  This is not just a call to rest, but a call to action, a call to work - and it is precisely through doing the work of the Father that they are filled and strengthened.

Yet how does this apply to my mundane office job, you might think to yourself.  And this is something I wonder to.  How is it that if I am not actively going out and evangelizing, or preaching on the streets, that I am still doing the work of my Father?

God called us all to be evangelists, yes, and preachers, yes.  But some of us are called to be evangelists and preachers through our mundane office jobs, or even through our long hours at the construction site.  Whatever it is that God has called us to do, or whatever situations we've been put into in our lives, whether by choice or not, we are called to be both evangelists and preachers through these jobs.  There is a saying in Christian tradition, that, "actions speak louder than words". So no, our work is not worthless.  Our work speaks volumes.  The important thing is to remember Who it's all for.

Some final remarks...
1) Our work does not determine our worth.  God has given us our worth and dignity when we were first created, and that dignity remains engrained within us throughout the course of our lives. 

2) We need time to rest.  God did not ordain it so that we would work without ever stopping.  We take time to rest to strengthen our bodies, our minds, our souls, our hearts, in order to draw close to God, and in order to be able to do well the work which we have been tasked with.

3) Both our times of work and our times of rest are designed to draw us closer to God.  So no, we are not called to work all the time, but neither are we called to never take action.  Both our work and rest are leading us towards our eternal home.

I'd like to close with this little poem of mine...

The toil and labour

Which I have often sought after

In my pride

Have only come

To dissappoint.

The rest and stillness

Which I chased after

Evaded me

Night and after night.

The stillness, the peace

Where had they gone?

But when I looked

Beyond the trees

I found there

Waiting for me

A home, a house

A family, a life

With work, with rest

With toil, and strife.
In the midst of all this

I find myself here

Pondering now

The truth of it all.

Work and rest

Play and prayer

A delicate balance

I seek after now.

A Reflection on the Beauty of Growth

When we think of growth, what is the first thing that comes to mind?  Naturally, the first image that appears (at least, in my mind anyway) is an image of nature - a stalk of grass, or perhaps a tree or a flower.  And yes, while it is true that we often associate growth with nature, the growth I am going to talk about today is human growth - the kind of growth that has occurred within me over the past 9 months.

When I first applied to St. Therese Institute of Faith and Mission, I honestly had no idea what I was getting myself into.  Back in January of 2024, little did I know that throughout the course of the year, I would be taking two hour long classes, attending silent retreats, witnessing the ordination of a priest for the first time, encountering people who I never would have met outside of this institute, performing acts in kitchen parties (I never saw that one coming!), or even baking all sorts of goods for my fellow students.

When I look back at the year at St. Therese Institute as a whole, I can see how much I have grown.  But when I reflected on any given day (while attending St. Therese), my own growth was hidden from me.  The moment I began to examine my day, the past couple days, or even the past week, I simply could not see the growth.  And yet it was precisely the same schedule, the same day-to-day practices that were all forming me to become who I am today.  Yes, it was in those moments of the mundane, in the demands of the schedule, and especially in the "duty of the moment" that I was truly progressing, even though it was hidden from me.

And yet, growth is like that, isn't it?  When we look at, say, the short-term growth of a plant from day-to-day, we do not actively see the plant growing.  But over the course of several months, or even years, as we look back, we can clearly see that there was a whole process of maturing and growing.  And what was the result of this process?  Or, maybe the question is: does this process ever end?  

When I had the opportunity of speaking with a Jesuit priest this past year, he pointed out that maturity (an important aspect of growth) is not just a state - it is a continual growth.  To be mature, from a simple understanding, means to be growing.  Maturity is not just a state that I can one day suddenly reach - quite the opposite!  It is this continual process of growing in knowledge, understanding, and, from a Christian's perspective, growing in the virtues, especially the virtue of charity.  And it was by entering in deeply to the program at St. Therese where this maturity and growth was fostered.

If I could touch on the "duty of the moment" for a bit, I would say that this was the most practical teaching I received.  The basic idea of this mentality is asking oneself, "Where is God calling me to serve Him in this particular moment?"  If it is attending to the chores that need to be done, so I ought to willingly embrace the task with love.  If it is continuing a poor attempt at personal prayer in the morning while still half-asleep, so be it.  I learned to embrace it all.  Well, over time.

Initially, I persisted in trying to do all the things the schedule demanded of me, but it was not working.  Why?  It was because I was trying to do it all of my own strength, all of my own abilities, and I was not working with my weaknesses.  What I learned was to work with both my strengths and my weaknesses.  So yes, there were a lot of mornings when I failed to finish personal prayer.  Yes, there were many days where I was unbelievably tired (exhausted even) and had no desire to attend classes, knowing how tired I was.  But I discovered, over the year, that even if it meant taking a little time to drink a coffee, or eat a little more protein for breakfast, it was the small "sacrifice", of attending to my weaknesses (namely, my tiredness) that truly helped me to grow in virtue, and be present in the moment.

Ironic, isn't it, how the little things we do affect us so much?  And yet, in both my weaknesses and my strengths, God was forming me into the disciple of His that I am called to be.  I am by no means in a state of perfection, and I have certainly not attained the highest degree of holiness. But I'm on the road still, slowly, but surely trekking along.  And that growth I was talking about - well, despite the fact that I can't always see it, it is happening.  

Indeed there is growth, hidden from me most of the time, yet the Gardener's hands are creating a beautiful garden - a garden which I one day hope to see clearly.