She was quite upset, wailing that she had made a mistake in a major decision even though she had prayed and discerned about this matter previously. What she forgot was that making the right decision does not exclude difficulties, sacrifices or a need to make radical changes in one's life, all not so easy as we get older and more set in our ways. On the contrary, making the right decision usually holds more challenges, obstacles the size of mountains even.
She wanted to know if I regretted my decision to get married, for wasn't marriage difficult at times? It is, but no regrets. I did not elaborate much for I find it pointless to gripe about my struggles. Of course there have to be struggles despite the fact I married a super great guy: there were the inevitable teething problems, the occasional communication breakdowns and misunderstandings, situations that may not be to my liking, constraints I may resent... the list goes on.
There are also times I feel lost, and empty, for marriage seems so reductive that I have become a shadow of who I am; I feel I am not serving the Lord as fully as I should, that I have buried my talents in the ground. Is this right for me? Questions crowd my mind, with no immediate or clear answers. Insecurities and fears gnaw at my consciousness. I have hopes for the marriage - for us as a couple, for myself, for the one whom I love - desires that I wonder will ever come to fruition? I can fall into despair.
Here is where I go back to the beginning.
Father Michael asked us at the Lector Day of Recollection two weeks ago, what is the mark if sin is defined as missing the mark, and we fall into sin when we are insecure of God's love, or when we doubt the giftedness of our beings and begin to let fear get the better of us. While the Kingdom of God is my mark as a lector and Christian, my personal mark goes beyond ensuring the redemption of my soul and thereby entering into eternal life.
My mark is like Mother Mary's fiat: His will always, not mine. I aim to do whatever He tells me. Why? Because no one loves me the way He does, so perfectly, so generously and so tenderly. I believe He knows what's best for me and I trust Him implicitly with my life. I follow Him because He has all the right answers: to the uncompromising, demanding yet illuminating truth, to life's mysteries, and the way to a love that satisfies completely.
Father Greg said at yesterday's retreat for ICPE Singapore's Companions that at the heart of worship is gratitude. The best way to reciprocate the Father's love is to demonstrate a heart of gratitude by loving others as Jesus loves me - which can mean to the point of death. This is the hard part, for the inconvenience of dying to self again and again is at constant war with my instinctive inclination for self-preservation.
Jesus' brand of self-donating love is where the beginning lies, a love found in Creation, and again at my inception and birth: the Father's pure love, unmerited and lavish. It is a gift of grace. Loved into being, loved for who I am in all my strengths and weaknesses, loved beyond my grievous faults, monumental mistakes and grimy, repulsive sins - how can I not love Him in return?
Our final sharing yesterday revolved around how to see community as mission instead of as a means of facilitating mission. Father Greg invited us to see perichoresis as a dynamic dance of ourselves and the Trinity at the table of the Lord. If we infuse community with the indwelling of the Trinity, we could dance in love and joy with and around each other, and thus gather others into the power and beauty of the Divine-filled dance.
On our own strength, we will bring to the table of community our paltry five loaves and two fish which may not be desired or adequate sustenance, but if we fall back on the Trinity when relating to one another, the loaves and fish can multiply and transform appetisingly and nutritiously into a rich banquet enjoyed by all. The dance requires our collective agreement to be as humble, loving and forgiving as Jesus is, to be as patient and generous as the Father is, and to be as wise and merciful as the Holy Spirit is, and so much more. It won't be easy, it will take effort, sweat, definitely tears, and we will always be buffeted by the tensions of living out our commitments to our loved ones as well as to our brothers and sisters in community.
Whatever my future struggles may be, whether in my marriage or my community (I pledged my commitment as Associate Member for another year), I know I need to always go back to the beginning, focus on the mark, then let myself be guided in the tango that mimics the perfect timing of the love that flows back and forth, between and among, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
She wanted to know if I regretted my decision to get married, for wasn't marriage difficult at times? It is, but no regrets. I did not elaborate much for I find it pointless to gripe about my struggles. Of course there have to be struggles despite the fact I married a super great guy: there were the inevitable teething problems, the occasional communication breakdowns and misunderstandings, situations that may not be to my liking, constraints I may resent... the list goes on.
There are also times I feel lost, and empty, for marriage seems so reductive that I have become a shadow of who I am; I feel I am not serving the Lord as fully as I should, that I have buried my talents in the ground. Is this right for me? Questions crowd my mind, with no immediate or clear answers. Insecurities and fears gnaw at my consciousness. I have hopes for the marriage - for us as a couple, for myself, for the one whom I love - desires that I wonder will ever come to fruition? I can fall into despair.
Here is where I go back to the beginning.
Father Michael asked us at the Lector Day of Recollection two weeks ago, what is the mark if sin is defined as missing the mark, and we fall into sin when we are insecure of God's love, or when we doubt the giftedness of our beings and begin to let fear get the better of us. While the Kingdom of God is my mark as a lector and Christian, my personal mark goes beyond ensuring the redemption of my soul and thereby entering into eternal life.
My mark is like Mother Mary's fiat: His will always, not mine. I aim to do whatever He tells me. Why? Because no one loves me the way He does, so perfectly, so generously and so tenderly. I believe He knows what's best for me and I trust Him implicitly with my life. I follow Him because He has all the right answers: to the uncompromising, demanding yet illuminating truth, to life's mysteries, and the way to a love that satisfies completely.
Father Greg said at yesterday's retreat for ICPE Singapore's Companions that at the heart of worship is gratitude. The best way to reciprocate the Father's love is to demonstrate a heart of gratitude by loving others as Jesus loves me - which can mean to the point of death. This is the hard part, for the inconvenience of dying to self again and again is at constant war with my instinctive inclination for self-preservation.
Jesus' brand of self-donating love is where the beginning lies, a love found in Creation, and again at my inception and birth: the Father's pure love, unmerited and lavish. It is a gift of grace. Loved into being, loved for who I am in all my strengths and weaknesses, loved beyond my grievous faults, monumental mistakes and grimy, repulsive sins - how can I not love Him in return?
Our final sharing yesterday revolved around how to see community as mission instead of as a means of facilitating mission. Father Greg invited us to see perichoresis as a dynamic dance of ourselves and the Trinity at the table of the Lord. If we infuse community with the indwelling of the Trinity, we could dance in love and joy with and around each other, and thus gather others into the power and beauty of the Divine-filled dance.
On our own strength, we will bring to the table of community our paltry five loaves and two fish which may not be desired or adequate sustenance, but if we fall back on the Trinity when relating to one another, the loaves and fish can multiply and transform appetisingly and nutritiously into a rich banquet enjoyed by all. The dance requires our collective agreement to be as humble, loving and forgiving as Jesus is, to be as patient and generous as the Father is, and to be as wise and merciful as the Holy Spirit is, and so much more. It won't be easy, it will take effort, sweat, definitely tears, and we will always be buffeted by the tensions of living out our commitments to our loved ones as well as to our brothers and sisters in community.
Whatever my future struggles may be, whether in my marriage or my community (I pledged my commitment as Associate Member for another year), I know I need to always go back to the beginning, focus on the mark, then let myself be guided in the tango that mimics the perfect timing of the love that flows back and forth, between and among, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
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