Mustard seeds

Yes, I made it! I passed my Pilates exam and I am still on a high since yesterday. Most of all, I give thanks to the One who made it possible.

It was hard leading up to March 29th, I experienced many moments of near-despair for it seemed an uphill and impossible task to finish all the prep before the exam: getting signed off on being able to perform all the exercises perfectly (with my bum shoulder it was frustration in the extreme) and finding the time to type up all my notes and study. Amid the distractions of teaching and all the other activities He had called me to say yes to – all this within the absurd time frame of two months was a logistical nightmare. Then there was the severe drain on my financial resources which did not help.

At one point in time I came close to abandoning the route I’d chosen for it all seemed too difficult. A chat with my Spiritual Director sorted me out for he told me, “You cannot change course in the midst of crisis”. I had to trust that thus far, what I had discerned through prayer and meditation was indeed His will for me and I had to persevere walking through the valley. Giving up was not an option.

Despite the madness and the little faith in my ability to make it, the one thing that kept me going was to surrender and let go of my human fears, and trust Him to lead the way. He has been doing such a fantastic job these last few years, so how could I possibly allow perceived obstacles to dilute my faith now?

I hung on stubbornly to my prayer time for I knew that this was vital in terms of spiritual sustenance. The experience of praying for the success of the IWD event made me realize how crucial it was to pray for His anointing. So I would ask for His blessing and guidance every morning and leave everything else up to Him – how to balance my time between study and work, etc.

When I look back on March and all that I was called to undertake, I am awed at how being faithful to each task led to blessings unimagined and abundant. How each little seed, when tended with love, sprouted, and became beautiful testimonies of His love for me.

Place of springs

Words have also spoken to me. There is so much beauty and power in the language of words, whether verbal or written. They can evoke rich images, call forth intense emotions and invoke strong responses. They can bless. But they can also curse. And hence, should be used judiciously. Words spoken out of anger or malice will poison the atmosphere, which even true remorse is unable to repair. A faint scar remains behind, even after the wound inflicted has long healed. Conversely, words of love and affirmation are like water to the thirsty plants of our souls, allowing them to grow upright and burst into flower.

Some of the most beautiful language I’ve encountered lies within the world’s most popular ‘book’ – the Bible. It is, after all, the inspired Word of God. I find it quite amazing that Jesus speaks to me so meaningfully today through words that were passed down through the centuries, first by oral tradition, and later in written records. Somehow, He meets me at the very point of my struggle or triumph, my sorrow or joy. What’s more, He is able to infuse a wealth of meaning into a few chosen sentences so that a certain passage of Scripture can take on different shades of colour each time I meditate on it.

The Book of Psalms ranks among my favourite reads as this collection of songs emotes so beautifully the various postures of prayer one can take, be it praise, adoration, thanksgiving, lament or repentance. Through the Liturgy of the Hours*, I’ve come to love the poetry and symbolism found in the Psalms, as I make the words my own, applying them to my daily life. One I especially love is Psalm 84, in particular, verse 7:

“As they go through the Bitter Valley
They make it a place of springs,
The autumn rain covers it with blessings.
They walk with ever growing strength,
They will see the God of gods in Sion.”

It is alive with imagery that gives hope and courage to persevere. As we journey through seasons of darkness and hostility, we can choose to transform it into something pure and life-giving. Drawing on faith that gives strength, and the ability to see the bounty and bear fruit even in the heart of darkness.

Setbacks, disasters, catastrophes, trials, these are hallmarks of human suffering. But we are given the freedom to choose how we respond to them. We can either give in to despair and respond in bitterness, or we can choose to rely on Him to be the light, even when we are lost and groping around in the dark, and gain something good from our suffering.

“Lord, God of hosts,
happy the man who trusts in you!”

*The Liturgy of the Hours is the Catholic Church’s official daily prayer, whereby the hours are consecrated to God. It is prayed either in a group or individually and involves praise, thanksgiving, lament and intercession in Christ’s name and in communion with Him. At the heart of the Hours is the Book of Psalms.

Called

By name you call me every day,
To walk with steadfastness and love.
Be light to those who cannot see,
And salt to season lives with joy.
The wounded hearts and battered spirits
All casualties of humankind’s ills,
To comfort and with care affirm,
Bring hope and dignity restore.
To practise charity at home
Let respect and patience rule the day.
Forgive each sin; to live and let live…
Give thanks for moments light and dark.
How wonderfully you’ve made me thus
So blessed am I, where grace abounds

Let me answer your call with fervent love
That I may change the world with who I am.

By Jackie Pau

Woman Power

The Woman to Woman Ministry’s International Women’s Day celebration took place yesterday afternoon at St. Bernadette’s and it was time of gathering to reflect and take stock of life at both the macro and micro levels. Learn new ways to get closer to Jesus and discern His will in our lives. And, celebrate life together as women of faith.

Violence against women and girls is nothing new, and yet, it still remains a problem today. The statistics were horrifying. According to a UN study on women: ”At least one out of every three women has been beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused in her lifetime.” And this is usually by someone she knows. For more, go to:

http://www.un.org/events/women/iwd/2007/factsfigures.shtml

Why is it that in this age of so-called progress, of scientific and technological wonders, that human beings haven’t evolved to the point where a basic respect of the rights and dignity of the human person is present? Why is it that women continue to be the primary victims of child prostitution or labour, sexual exploitation, abuse in the home and human trafficking?

What are we doing wrong? Just last week, I read in the newspaper a case of several instances of incest in one family which were supported by the women in the home because they believed it was permissible. Then there was the recent case of a pregnant nine-year-old.

Jacinta Phoon, who was the keynote speaker gave further insight into abuse suffered by young women in Singapore today, and how girls thought of themselves based on the feedback they received from the environment around them. Instead of thinking of themselves as individuals with certain inalienable rights, many young women perceive themselves as objects and measured their self-worth accordingly.

Are we, as women, doing enough to dispel the darkness around us? Or are we, sitting safe and sound in our homes, saying, “It’s not my problem”? Worse, do we buy into the rationalization and the relativism of the world around us and think, “There is no problem - that’s the way things are nowadays”?

Can we change the world where we are? “What difference can I make, as one solitary woman with all these responsibilities to shoulder?” “I have no time, nor the capability.” “This is beyond me. Only a higher authority can deal with the situation, not me.”

Lao Tzu said: "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." We can change the world by changing our world.

Begin by claiming our status as beloved daughters of God and the authority that comes with being woman created in the image and likeness of God. We need to believe in ourselves and love ourselves the way the Father loves us. Then, confident in His love, we can, in our own unique ways, make a difference to the people we come into contact with every day – family, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, the elderly person who lives next door, the woman whom we buy vegetables from…

In Isaiah 1:17, we are exhorted to “learn to do good, seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow”. If each of us makes the conscious effort to seek Jesus in each other, be His body, His hands and His feet*, then each of us has the power to change the world.

* Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours; yours are the eyes through which to look at Christ's compassion to the world, yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good, and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now." - St. Teresa of Avila

WIP

The time draws near for my Pilates exam and I’ve spent the week practising (and teaching in between to earn the money sorely needed to pay for my mentoring) every day. I am physically tired, my muscles are screaming multiple protests, my shoulder injuries still acting up despite the excruciating myofascial release I’ve undergone to fix the problem. I’ve neglected the injuries too long to get a quick fix, although the treated shoulder is a little better – less blocked.

I refuse to think of March 29th and the sign offs I still need before then on over 40 exercises. I can only do what I can and trust that Jesus will help guide me on what I have to do to get to my exam day ready, mentally and physically.

It seems that that’s all I do these frenetically paced days – soldier onward on prayer, faith in Jesus and lots of action.

B.’s Subway opened on February 24th and I helped out over that weekend, as well as the following Sunday. It’s high stress but with a twist of piquant entertainment. I like the challenge of getting customers to smile at me and respond to my friendliness. I feel bad about not being able to help out this weekend and the rest of March, but the dreaded exam is my priority now.

St. Teresa’s Parish Mission for Zone 6 kicked off last Sunday and I hosted one area mass already. It turned out to be uplifting and I enjoyed meeting my Catholic neighbours. There’s another one coming up this Sunday - home visits, followed by mass on Monday evening. As there were not enough volunteers for Zone 6, I have had to take on two areas in my zone. I was initially stressed by this, but am glad at how things panned out.

As if that were not enough, there is the Woman to Woman Ministry’s International Women’s Day (IWD) celebration tomorrow on March 11th. Thank goodness my writing projects can be put on hold until April rolls around. (You have no idea how grateful I am for this, Julia.)

IWD’s theme for this year is: Ending Impunity for Violence against Women and Girls.

As part of our programme, I was asked to talk about the more subtle forms of violence/abuse, having grown up with an alcoholic father who engaged in mental abuse.

What’s been really interesting to me while I prepared my speech is how I have buried memories of bad times so deeply that I could almost declare they never existed. On recalling the past, I now understand why my mother, for the longest time, only had bad memories of my father. She was the one who suffered at his hands the longest and the worst. And I have to say, some of the memories are pretty bad and still evoke a deep sense of sorrow at how his brokenness spawned such cruelty.

As if to reassure me that healing has taken place, something lovely happened this week. While we were at a concert by The Platters Mum turned to me after they sang My Prayer and said, “Dad sang that song to me on our wedding night”. In that instant, I could see my father, handsome, charming, deeply in love with my sweet, demure mother, surprising her with a heartfelt serenade at their wedding banquet. Going by the last line of the song,

That you'll always be there at the end of my prayer

Dad’s prayer was indeed answered, by God who has an impeccable sense of timing.

E. who read my draft speech asked me, “What do you sense God is wanting to say through your sharing?”

I’ve distilled it to this: While past hurts require healing as we zoom down life’s super highway, while we will always be work-in-progress, we can use our past to shape our future if we allow ourselves to be little pencils in God’s hand*.

*Based on quote by Blessed Mother Teresa: “I am like a little pencil in God’s hand.”