Preserving faith

I have not been physically tip-top lately, and I put it down to ageing, and again, the need to engage in self-care shrieks in my ears to remind me I have been negligent. I have again been trying to do too much, charging around, putting the needs of others before my own sidestepped ones. And yet, isn’t that what we are called to do? What happens when I can no longer help or be of any use to someone, much less society at large? It is a sobering thought. What if I can no longer be that good and faithful servant, parlaying my five talents into ten?

I could feel the unspoken frustrations of my SD whom I visited yesterday, who was clearly feeling the weight of his years and poignantly wondered if he would see 92 in July? What is it like to live in a decaying body that betrays you with its limitations, pain and suffering? And yet, here he was, valiantly cheerful, endeavouring to minister to my spiritual life. God bless him for still trying so hard at his age to give in his physically straitened circumstances.

He is, for me, the image of the indomitable, good and faithful servant, undefeated by the ravages of time. The lesson for me was this, to never stop moving forward. Don’t give up, keep on going, walk every step in faith. Only by faith will we be carried by divine grace to remain smiling graciously even when we are wrecked with pain; to be able to inspire others when we feel so uninspired, and truth be told, down in the dumps, ourselves. It is the discipline of faith, the way we assiduously nurture the gift of faith given to us by God, that will enable us to sail the waters of chaos, loss and challenge in our lives.

We need to work long and hard at keeping the faith alive - like Simeon and Anna, who were both present at the Presentation of Jesus, and could rejoice with His parents when they saw the Messiah Himself. We must be faithful, ready to live every single day in the temple of the Lord, consecrating ourselves, living a particular lifestyle of prayer and praise indefatigably, being of singular heart and mind, never doubting, despite the numerous naysayers that surround us, and the tragedies that grip our lives.

Only when we invoke and manifest this gift of faith will we actually be able to see the face of our Lord in our lives. Not only that, in those interminable years of waiting, we will, like Simeon and Anna, be able to incarnate Christ to all we meet.  

I would like to think that both Father A and myself saw Baby Jesus in each other and that we both came away from our meeting with hearts a little lighter, more hopeful, even healed, and filled with some of the joy that surely both Simeon and Anna felt that fateful day in the temple. 

Birthday kisses

It’s been seven years

Since we celebrated, laughed,

Past joys sorely missed.

Sweet birthday kisses

Borne on spring breezes to you_ 

Catch them in delight.

Love you forever

Gentle soul, not forgotten 

Till time’s eternal.

Making it count

This morning I attended the funeral mass of J, someone I knew from Saint Teresa’s when I was active in the parish there. While I didn’t know J very well, what I knew of her was confirmed by the celebrant as well as the eulogy by her son. When Father Paul Goh had a stroke some 20 years ago, J ensured that his meals were looked after as he convalesced. J was clearly loved by family and friends. By all accounts she lived a full and meaningful life, putting the needs of others before hers, loving and serving to the end. 

What came to me during mass was this: make every day count. If I were to make a New Year resolution, this would be the one. Immediately, I thought of my cousin E, how when she battled cancer, even in her diminished physical state, she still managed to reach out to fellow cancer patients and pray with them, and for them. She made a difference in the lives of many. She made her days count. 

The only way I can do the same is if I let the sun rise and set on one continuous, singular act of gratitude which is, as P likes to remind me of his very apt school motto, ora et labora, pray and labour. 

My first act upon waking is to pray. Consequently as I go about my day, I continue to orientate myself to the Lord, offering up all my actions for His glory, even those I am not proud of (these I ask Him to help mediate and remedy). Finally before I sleep, I take time to reflect on my day: where I went wrong, what I could have done better, what I did okay, and to thank Jesus for all the times I saw how He brought me through the day safely. 

Today, Father P also said something that resonated with me. In a nutshell: Those who acted for the good of others will be happy in life. Whereas, those who only thought of their own good were guaranteed to be unhappy. Happiness is a by-product of being that good and faithful servant Jesus talks about; the beloved disciple who seeks to love others as the Master loves them. 

His point was proven when my grandson popped into my room this afternoon and demanded that I serve him. The joy and pleasure I derived from looking after J and playing with him, and, hopefully, influencing him to become a virtuous man someday is inestimable. Of course, not everything I do in life, all those worthwhile, virtuous endeavours, will make me happy. Some are difficult, and may even be downright unpleasant. But if I truly want to make my days count, then it is simple enough. I simply have to make Jesus happy. How? Love as He does. Be one with the Father. Be salt and light. Be grateful. Be good. Be someone who knows she has already won the prize of eternal life, and who will do everything in her power to keep it.