Love Triumphantly

When someone you have loved your entire life leaves, she or he leaves behind a huge hole in your life that nothing can ever fill. More so when your relationship has been filled with light, goodness, love and laughter. Mine with E was such a relationship. Our relationship was layered with all the wonderful things the Spirit endowed with generous abundance: faith, hope, unconditional love, wisdom, joy, gentleness, truth, peace, empathy, freedom and compassion. There was, still is, a purity in our love for each other, a truly rare gift from God. 

While my grief runs deep, I know I cannot remain stuck in it. For to do so would not honour the love we had for each other and especially the love we have for our Creator. In the book of Wisdom, chapter 14 cautions against a father’s grief that leads to honouring the image of a dead child as god. Thus, we must be careful not to divinize loved ones we have lost, and so fall into a form of idolatry. 

The best way I can remember E and continue to honour our relationship is not to dwell on times past, precious as they were, but to do whatever she would do in any given situation in my present and future times. It is an extremely tall order for she was so much more kinder, wiser, and compassionate than I am, but if I do whatever the Lord tells me, I will get there, just as E did, she who always strove to do the will of God in her life. She, of course, took it to a level not many of us can achieve, but that doesn’t mean that I will not die trying. 

Having just completed the books of Maccabees, I am inspired by the lessons of zeal and faith contained within, and how I can draw on the Maccabean lessons in dealing with my grief. 

The Catechism of the Catholic Church talks about the three states of the Church that exist. There is, first, people like you and me, disciples of Christ who are pilgrims on earth. We are the Church Militant, soldiers of Christ who constantly do battle with our own preponderance to sin, as well as with the spiritual presence of evil in the world around us. What we do in our daily lives to shine the light of Christ that edifies ourselves and others is vital. 

As a member of the Church Militant, I continue to love E by being the person she has taught me to be, a stalwart warrior of Christ: to be like Judas Maccabeus, who fully relied on God’s power to do battle even when the odds were incredibly high; to always give thanks and praise to God in a celebratory and public manner, never forgetting the one who made all things possible; and to help the souls of the dead by offering prayer and masses.

Then there is the state of purification the recently dead soldiers of Christ go through known as the Church Penitent, also known as Church Suffering or Church Expectant. This is more commonly known as purgatory among Catholics and it is where our earthly sins and attachments are cleansed before the joys of heaven can be fully embraced. The only way those in purgatory can be cleansed properly and return fully to the Lord is through the prayers of the living - that’s where you and I come in. 

The focus of my prayer life has transformed in the last 18 months to include those in purgatory in a more intentional way. As Father Bobby put it, we are put here on earth to save souls, not just the souls of those who are still with us, but also the souls of those who cannot pray for themselves, those in purgatory. 

Since E’s passing, I have been praying fervently for her swift return to the Father’s embrace. Now while she herself cannot pray for this to happen, she can still pray for us who are left behind. Hence I have been seeking her intercession, and I know that whether she is still Church Penitent or is now part of Church Triumphant, her prayers are equally efficacious.

Finally there is Church Triumphant, where those who have returned to the Father’s embrace “are in glory, contemplating ‘in full light, God himself triune and one, exactly as he is'” (CCC 954). These are our saints, whether they are officially recognized or not. These are the ones, including our departed loved ones who, in enduring faith, ran the good race, and are now crowned with glory in heaven. 

I believe that E is already a saint, or soon to be, and our relationship has taken on a mystical bonding, a spiritual unity that is beyond human understanding, in the communion of saints. When on earth she prayed for my return to Jesus and her prayers bore fruit. Now in heaven I am sure she is still praying for me and for many others so that we can all eventually be together, Church Triumphant, just as the Creator desired from the very beginning. In the book of Maccabees, the prayers of the saints, the prophets, helped Judas Maccabeus win impossible battles. E will be my Onias and my Jeremiah, and will do likewise. What an incredible blessing! I hope to return to Jesus as she did, in triumphant love.

Firstfruits of 50

P and I just celebrated our 50th month-versary - a milestone in our life together. It was nice that we got to celebrate with mass as we usually try to do, with gratitude and in thanksgiving. It was the first day of the Lunar New Year as well so after mass we spent the day celebrating with family, then we went home for a much needed siesta, followed by a walk, then dinner. There was even time to play with the grandkids before just chilling before the telly like an old married couple.  

There is such grace in the daily rituals of life such as exercising together (although we don’t do that often enough), eating together as a family, sharing life and laughter. It is little pleasures that come from the simple things, and not the grand gestures, that mark the marriage with quiet joy, pleasures often overlooked and taken for granted if we do not stop to acknowledge them and offer them up with thanksgiving back to the Father who first bestowed them. 

When I really look at P, I see who he is and why I fell in love with him, and I continue to love him just a little bit more for everything that he is, the total package. Sure, there are things about him that rub me the wrong way and irritate me, as I am sure I do him. However, God has given us the wisdom and charity to know what we should hold on to and what to discard in order that we can build a marriage that is founded on mutual respect, love and honour. We are far from perfect as individuals but because we decide to live for Christ and all that He stands for, we are able to forgo our egos, our need to be right, and even the instances when we are actually right and the other is wrong. 

So what have the 50 months of marriage stood for? It has been a time of getting to know each other better, of deeper bonding, of learning to love the other in a multitude of ways that were new and challenging in the initial stages, but ultimately proved enriching, delightful even, in repetition. It has been a time of testing and endurance, of great stretching, which has led to growth and a fruiting unimagined. I may not have enjoyed every moment, but I would not exchange a single milligram of pain for it is only in the bitter that sweetness is truly appreciated and savoured fully. 

The number 50 in the Bible signifies the coming of the Holy Spirit, Pentecost or the Feast of Weeks also known as the Feast of Firstfruits. P and I lay at the Lord’s feet the firststfruits of our marriage, all the choice blessings of marriage we have experienced. In thanksgiving, we honour Him for bringing us together in holy matrimony, and for journeying with us all these months. His Spirit is certainly what drives us to always desire and seek the good of the other even at great personal sacrifice. 

May we continue to walk in His ways and see His face when we chance upon or gaze fondly at the other’s visage. 

Dreaming to let go

I dreamt of E last night. We were chatting and she was doing what she did best, challenging me to live out my vocation to the fullest by using what gifts I have been given; hence this post. She was telling me to write. I have not been open to dreaming about E until yesterday for I felt, somehow, that if I dreamt of her, it would mean her passing was final and I wasn’t quite ready to accept that reality even though my brain knows she is no longer here.

It is hard letting go. It is painful; to let go for one has to process one’s emotions by naming them: the grief, frustration, fear, horror, loss, bewilderment, regret, anger and hurt... I also have to acknowledge how deeply I mourn her passing, allowing all the sadness I felt from as far back as four years ago to surface and sit with it. Most of all I have to acknowledge the deep grief I felt seeing her suffer in those last days, the sense of helplessness I felt from not being able to make her feel better.

There is such great pain in seeing someone you love suffer and knowing that whatever you do to help in concrete terms is futile and pathetic. My love was simply not enough. All I could do was stand by and weep at the awful decline wrought by the cancer. The horror and the sorrow runs deep.

Then there is the sense of loss from the aching void her death has left behind. Even though I did not live with her, her absence is palpable. And yet, as one of her dear friends said to me, E is still here, but in a different way. P said she was able to connect to E through prayer, spiritually, and I guess I need to learn to do the same.  

As Christians who believe in eternal life and the communion of saints, I get that we are still united through love and we will eventually experience a union in heaven that far supersedes the way we have experienced love on earth, but I still miss the conversations, the closeness of shared experiences, the familial love we had for each other for over 50 years that was so rooted in our mutual love for Christ in latter years. 

My gratitude runs deep that God in His infinite wisdom and mercy saw fit to gift the two of us with the gift of the other. Our relationship was pure gift, so much so that not even death can separate us fully for our bond of love is unbreakable, founded, as it were, on the Creator’s own love. 

I know in days to come that I will still be guided by her spirit which was so deeply grafted on Christ Himself. I continue to ask for the grace to transmute my grief into something more powerful, something that purifies the way I love those around me into a self-giving and humble love that brings healing, wholeness and great spiritual joy. 

I let go of the past today, wonderful as it was, and I look to the future with hope and excitement for E is still with me, guiding me on my way forward. Thanks for stopping by in my dream, E. Love you much.  

Remembering

Today is the birthday of J who would have been 53 if he were still with us. It is also the two-month anniversary of E’s passing. It is a bit of a double whammy for me as they were both so dear to me and I feel their absence quite keenly. 

Their leaving has left a huge void in my life for we were buddies first before we were cousins. I kept in touch with both frequently when they were living abroad, and saw them regularly when they were living in Singapore. We shared our lives - celebrated our victories, and commiserated over our sorrows.

Yet I am reminded of a homily which I heard at the start of this year to give thanks; be grateful for everything in my life. And I am grateful that the Father saw fit to place both E and J in my life which has been enriched immeasurably. 

The laughter, the tears, the good and bad times, we have walked together through it all. Nothing can erase the memories except perhaps my own faulty memory, and yet, at the end of it all, the deep love I have for both of them will remain.  

Today I celebrate dear J’s birthday by giving thanks to the Creator with a little prayer that J is now in Paradise with Him, as is E. Kisskiss, hughug, much love, me cozzies. I am so glad you were, and still are in my life. Happy, happy birthday J.

Unprecedented blessings

While driving earlier on, a radio DJ asked: In one word, describe how the year has been for you? I am loathe to say tough, although it has been tough for I most recently lost someone whom I love very much after journeying with her in her last months. It has been heartbreaking while at the same time I am glad that she is not suffering any longer, and rejoice that I have a new guardian angel looking out for me from heaven. Simply have to take the bad with the good.

I hesitate to say challenging as well for every year has its own challenges. Yet nothing is so bad that we cannot overcome adverse conditions, loss, or complete chaos, especially when God is on our side, and, more importantly, we are on His. No matter what happens, if I do not deviate from the narrow path of all that Christianity espouses, then I know I am good. Thus it has been in past years, and so it has been in these last 12 months, and will continue to be in the future. Nothing and no one can take away my joy, my bliss, my freedom. Not even a pandemic. Reading the Bible in a very intentional way this year has brought this message home to me more than ever. I am blessed, and I am immensely grateful for all I have been given. 

If I need to mask up when outdoors, watch that I am not standing too close to strangers, sanitize my hands frequently, curtail social gatherings and keeping gatherings to a legally prescribed number, so be it. If I have to stay home for several weeks, it is not the end of the world. No biggie. I love my family, some of whom are vulnerable, so I do my utmost to ensure they are not at risk. Life may have seemed more circumscribed, but it was definitely not diminished.

Besides work, I have been busy with family, especially grandchildren who have brought me tremendous joy. I have had the opportunity to work with my community and participate in a couple of outreaches via the wonders of Zoom. I have picked up a new ministry, journeying with people who wish to be baptized Catholics. I have had the privilege of journeying with someone and watching his conversion to Christ, something that brought him peace in his last days. I have put to use the gifts and talents I have been given, helped those who needed a helping hand, connected meaningfully with people, brought hope, maybe even a few laughs if not joy. 

The word I would choose to describe 2020 is unprecedented. Unprecedented in life experiences, and unprecedented in how I have been called to respond and act, to show love in new ways, to communicate in new ways, and to bear fruit in new ways. I am even been called to worship God in new ways. While all these new experiences may not have been fully comfortable in their initial strangeness, I continue to say yes and be open, adaptable to the newness of life. And I look forward to unprecedented ways to say thank you to my Maker for always making a way, even when there seems to be none. Look harder, there’s always a new way.

 

Letter to E

I cannot believe that you are no longer here. It has been almost a month and I have not really allowed myself to think of your passing except when I pray for I continue to pray for your soul my most heartfelt wish being that you are already with our Lord in paradise, no longer in purgatory. I believe you are already there with the many whose lives you have touched and transformed and who therefore are praying fervently the same prayer that I am. But call it insurance. Plus I know my prayers will not go to waste for they will help others who are still in purgatory so this is my win-win prayer for you. 

Although I cannot quite put into words my grief for it changes all the time, from inchoate to full blown depression (I’ve put on weight from all the emo eating I’ve indulged in to fill the emptiness inside, chocolate being my food of choice which, I am sure, you would approve), and I have isolated myself away from well-meaning friends who are grieving as I am for my grief is private and unique something I am not quite ready to share with others.

My memories range from the whimsical - all those magical times we shared: playing as girls, listening to the single Pappa loves Mama, trying to heal that beautiful blue butterfly we found in your garden; you happily showing me around Cambridge; that gorgeous summer’s day in Heidelberg when you drove down from Allerheiligen in the Black Forest to spend the afternoon with me; eating ice cream in wintery Boston, walking around the touristy surroundings of Faneuil Hall; those three life-changing weeks in Bangalore at Pastoral Counselling School where I first experienced God’s compassionate and forgiving mercy through you; our final carefree outing together at Sonya’s Secret Garden in Tagaytay - to the terrible: that Sunday morning you called me when you experienced great pain which we later realized was when the tumour had burst; to P feeding me Korean ginseng chicken soup when he broke the news of your cancer to me (I remember telling him I would go mad if I lost you for that was the year we both lost J.); watching you suffer through chemo that first round, the only relief provided by my wedding day; then the brief respite when you received the all clear PET scan results... until the cancer returned and the mad rollercoaster of grief began yet again as you went through the suffering of treatment which morphed all too quickly from preventive to palliative. 

It was hard watching your decline, that last year, that last month, that last week and that last morning. If I could have, I would have taken the suffering and pain away from you, yet all I could do was watch the awfulness of it all, pretty much helpless. 

There is so much love within my heart for you, this gift from God, this bond of pure love that has never changed except to grow stronger through the years from the time I could remember. I know it will never die even though you are not here physically, materially. 

Part of my grief is selfish for I am wondering how am I going to grow spiritually without you challenging me, encouraging me, guiding me, and loving me, even though I know this will never stop, for your spirit lives on in my heart, and I know you are still with me through our shared Catholic faith. 

There is, of course, great consolation in my desolation, knowing you are gained eternal life and that you are free from the chains of that odious cancer. For there is a lightness within my heart, as Emily Dickinson wrote, the thing with feathers that never stops singing - at all. You have become that thing with feathers, that little singing bird that will go on singing through the storms and gales of my life. 

Like Mary Magdalene I need to let go of known perceptions, comforting in their familiarity, to embrace a whole new reality of life, new life, resurrected life. Our lives together have just begun. The love never stops - ever...

Cana revisited

Who knew what the future would hold

A scant four years ago

In faith we said yes to marriage 

A life together having and holding

Hand in hand we have walked

Our hearts made whole in unity

Joined by our mutual love for the One

Who makes all things possible 

When we do whatever He tells us 

Miracles have abounded we are astounded 

By the joy of living as husband and wife

We give thanks for His wisdom and grace

His purpose and plan 

We say yes today and always

To praise and glorify Him

With deep gratitude for our Mother 

Who knew exactly what each one needed

The best for last to last forever

Blessed be the Lord our God

Who makes all things new and alive

Loving means letting go

I have let you go

By restful waters of a new life

A well deserved place at the table.

I have let you go

Into the arms of the shepherd

Who swaddles you cosy, carrying you home.

I have let you go

Ascending the mountain

Disappearing into the clouds.

I have let you go

In peace and joy to the Bridegroom

With one last backward smile goodbye 

I have let you go

Free from the interminable suffering

Free to be His beloved, desired child.

I have let you go

My selfish grief has settled

Into great rejoicing at your perfect healing.

I have let you go 

With great gratitude

For having known you and loved you.

I have let you go 

For I know you will never truly leave me

The gentle breeze whispers your heart. 

Grief-struck

Sad, sad, sad, incredibly sad, that this would happen

Why, why, why, it makes no sense, oh no, it doesn't.

Does it shake my faith? Of course it does.

Did my daily prayers not move You?

You are not listening to me!

Surely there’s still much to be done

The harvest is rich, and You need labourers

Is she not one of the best in Your sight

As she is, deep within my little girl heart?

Surely Your plans need time to unfold 

Why, at least until I am bent over with age?

You say to trust You with all of my heart,

and not lean on my own understanding,*

That the wisdom of this world is foolishness**

Then, help me understand, for, right now,

I am foolishly, most indubitably, a mess. 

* Proverbs 3:5
** 1 Corinthians 3:19

Written on September 6, 2018.

Fare thee well, au revoir

In my heart there is a space filled with love of you

You were my gift from God, a very special one

Words are simply not enough to express who you are to me. 

Nor describe the beauty of our story, the love and life we shared. 

Now you have left me to carry on without you. How could you? 

Grief indescribable floods my whole being. 

How will it be possible, you, not in my life?  

You, whom I've known simply forever. 

You showed me the Way, His truth, how incredibly beautiful life can be, 

To live as His bride, adorned in jewels bright.

Thank you, my dearest coz, for everything. 

A life poured out on the altar, a pleasing aroma of Christ. 

When I look to the heavens I know you will be there

to guide me home to Paradise where we will be together again. 

Sayonara!

W passed away just this Wednesday past, peacefully, without too much suffering given he had stomach cancer which had spread extensively to his bones as medical investigation revealed early August. Prior to this, he was rendered homeless just before the circuit breaker in April. 

He was a Japanese national who lived in Singapore since the 1990s and from someone who experienced financial success, he was reduced to poverty through the vagaries of economic downturns and a catastrophic robbery. 

Alone, in a strange land, estranged from family and, most recently, from a good friend who had supported him for years, terminally ill, destitute, and pretty much helpless, it is a heartbreaking tale of human suffering on every level. And yet, it is into such situations that God’s grace and mercy shines the brightest. 

He didn’t die alone. He was surrounded by people who loved and cared for him, visiting him frequently. He even found a son in B who looked after him as only a blood relative would have done in his last months of life, while my sister-in-law, B, was the penultimate Good Samaritan who was the first to reach out to W when he was in dire straits and support him in multiple ways where help was most needed, until he went home to the Lord. Thus, he died “comfortably”, with his dignity intact, in a hospice.

Journeying with W, whom I have known a couple of years, I am completely awed by how much God loves each and every one of us, and how tirelessly He goes after the lost sheep to bring him home to safety and salvation. 

The Lord brought many Christians into W’s life to show him how much he was loved. W always expressed that he wanted to have a very real experience of Jesus, to know He exists. I believe God granted his wish in glorious technicolour, and W came to the faith in a long, albeit roundabout way.

W was not the only one who was blessed, for we, the ones who knew him and journeyed with him were equally blessed. His life was rich not only because he found the pearl of great price of eternal life, but also because he transformed so many of us in that process, our lives were immeasurably enriched. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC), paragraph 949 states: Faith is a treasure of life which is enriched by being shared. Those of us who shared our faith with W through word and deed these last months have indeed found it to be so. 

Just last Thursday evening, during the RCIA session at Blessed Sacrament Church, we were talking about the communion of saints. W’s life and passing brings to life this great Christian doctrine and truth, that we are all part of the single mystical body of Christ, who alone is the head. 

When Father Sam shared the following, it resonated very strongly with me: 
Communion in charity. In the sanctorum communio, "None of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself." "If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honoured, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it." "Charity does not insist on its own way." In this solidarity with all men, living or dead, which is founded on the communion of saints, the least of our acts done in charity redounds to the profit of all. Every sin harms this communion.    - 953, Catechism of the Catholic Church

I can still hear the beautiful strains of the last coda playing when we bade W goodbye at his funeral service just Thursday past at Mandai Crematorium. 

Rest in peace, dear W-san. Sayonara, for now.

Death came clothed in peace

Crowned in Divine Mercy: grace

Going home in joy

Spiritual roots

During online mass on August 21, Father Michael Payyapilly spoke of the importance of remembering and honouring my spiritual roots, to always know when my faith began to deepen and grow so that I will follow Jesus,  the right 'way' (at all costs), and not lose my way ever. 

Being the feast day of Pope Saint Pius X, a great saint and pope who was known for lowering the age for First Communion as well as for his encouragement of the faithful to receive holy communion frequently, Father Michael highlighted the humility of this sainted pope who said: I was born poor, I have lived poor, I wish to die poor. 

Inspired by his homily, I would like to pay tribute to my father who was born poor and died poor, but grew rich in his faith and love for God in his last days as he suffered great poverty of health. Remembering my father who died today, 17 years ago. 

Only in your death did the grain of deep faith begin to sprout,

Nurtured by your suffering, watered in our collective tears.

Your slow decline was torturously sublime

The endless days a chain of kairos moments that

Brought glory to God in the depths of pain.

You bestowed on me your faith in dying

This legacy still lives and breathes, so precious to me

It is my pearl of great price and I am grateful for its luminous purity

That always leads me back to my eternal Bridegroom.

Thank you for guiding me day after day

From where you are, one with our heavenly Father 

With you both looking out for me, I know I am safe.

For I am doubly blessed to have two fathers

One who was fully human, and one who is fully divine.

May I always be spiritually rooted in who you were today 

Unsought, it has given me life to the full

Even as I still mourn my loss, missing you much.

Naked with no shame

Thanks to Father Bobby, P and I have just embarked on a year-long study of the Bible where we hope to live the logos as rhema every day so that, come next Pentecost, we can celebrate the Holy Spirit in an even richer way. 

Flashback to last August when Father Bobby encouraged us to proclaim the Word out loud 30 minutes every day and we would see miracles happening in our lives. We followed his advice and I have to say he was right. We have since seen many miracles, big and small, and we are now about eight to nine-tenths through the Bible. So we are both most happy to embark on rereading the Bible in a more reflective manner. Here’s the result of day one’s reflection yesterday thanks to Genesis 1:25 and the Unity Prayer* of the Flame of Love of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. 

The man and his wife were naked,

Yet they felt no shame.

This is what I desire with you.

Love, pure, and gleaming golden rays of light 

Firing our hearts welded so seamlessly within Christ. 

We gaze on each other with childlike innocence 

No holding back on how we feel

Defenceless but unafraid,

Vulnerable, so poignantly tender,   

Because we know our hearts beat in unison 

As our feet journey together. 

What you want, I seek fully for you,

What I want, you move mountains to give,

Each wanting the better for the other,

Making each other better with age.

May our lips always pray together, 

Giving thanks, singing praise, and

Gaining mercy from the Eternal Father.

* https://flameoflove.us/welcome-flame-love/

Individuating well

We recently had our cell group meeting and I was inspired by all the stories of my cell members. I gained new insights and I wish to thank every one of them for being my bread along the journey. This one’s for you:

Individuation. It’s a hefty word loaded with potential. In psychology it speaks to a transformative process, a growing awareness within a person, and a healing self-acceptance that allows the different parts of one’s psyche to integrate as a whole and thereby become something new and separate. Distinct.

It usually starts by taking the where I come from, my personal context, and celebrating it in my own way. I choose to be who I am, in the best way possible, that makes me fully alive. When I was younger, I hated the fact I was born female. I was physically weaker than my three brothers, and I was different, but not, I perceived, in a good way. I felt limited, imprisoned by my femaleness for I was born into a culture that accorded boys preferential treatment. So I denied my femininity by cutting my hair short and dressing like a boy.

Today I celebrate my feminine genius, all these wonderful qualities of what being a woman is all about. Even the not so great bits such as the hormonal craziness helps me to grow in empathy, compassion and patience  - not such a bad thing. Most days I enjoy my distinctly female view of the world. I appreciate who I am created to be, the unique individual that I am; and to give thanks to the Creator, I use my feminine genius to transform the environment I move in to bring light and umami-loaded salt. As my SD is fond of telling me, I am made to bring beauty into the world, to grace the occasions of life. Yes, Father A, I hear you.

Like most families, we have our own quirks, and generational sins that come alive in a brokenness that prevents growth. I had many labels put on me as a child, and it took great effort and work to let go of those labels and decide how I wish to rewrite those labels and the negative scripts that play in my head. 

I thank Jesus for being the one who helped me see my own belovedness, that no matter what I had done and where I had been, I could be the prodigal who returned to experience the unconditional, generous and unchanging love of the Father. Living now in my Father’s house, I enjoy making Him happy, and bringing His glory out into the world. I still fall, I still sin, I still hear the negative scripts in my head, but I am also able to rise above my transgressions and the lies in my head, to keep being born anew - becoming and transcending my personal history. I can move forward, unhampered by my past, and not limited by my fears, perceived and real.

And so it goes, life will never be perfect. There will be a perpetual tension in the things I want to do and the things I need to do. There will always be the need to balance, to juggle my responsibilities and still take care of me. How do I choose where I will go, and what I see and do and say? What do I have to do in order I continue to mature into this woman God created me to be, to grow into my personal identity and the name He has given me?

The one constant in my life is God, and to do His will. I know that my faithful Father will always honour my desire. So despite my shortcomings and whatever challenges, struggles I face, in spite of my own fears and normal inclinations to look out for self first, I can choose to listen to Jesus and put out into the deep. And with that one singular desire and action, my response to the Almighty will always situate me and have me living out my personal vocation in the fullest expression of love. I am set apart to bring His love to the world and stir love in others (thank you Father Michael D’Cruz). God willing, that is what I will do every single day.