What Color is God?

The auction was closing, but one item remained unwanted. It was fierce competition with buyers competing to outbid each other for everything that was on offer. They eagerly snapped up all the items and the auction was closing up except for one single item—an old violin. Keen to find a buyer, the auctioneer held the string instrument in his hands and offered what he thought was an attractive price: “If anyone is interested, I would sell it for $100.” A deathly hush filled the room. As it became apparent that even that price was not enough to convince anyone to buy the old violin, he reduced the price to $80, then $50, and finally, in desperation, to $20. After another bout of silence, an old gentleman who sat at the back asked: “May I have a look at the violin, please?” The auctioneer, relieved that someone was showing interest in the old violin, conceded. At least the stringed instrument faced the prospect of finding a new owner and home.  A Maestro’s Touch The old man rose from his seat at the back, slowly walked to the front, and carefully examined the old violin. Taking out his handkerchief, he dusted the surface and gently tuned each string until, one by one, they were in the right tones. Finally, and only then, did he place the old violin between his chin and left shoulder, lift the bow with his right hand, and start playing a piece of music. Each musical note from the old violin penetrated the silence in the room and danced delightfully in the air. It stunned everyone, and they listened attentively to what was coming out of the instrument in the hands of what was obvious to all—a maestro.  He played a familiar classical hymn. The melody was so beautiful that it quickly enchanted everyone at the auction and they were awestruck. They had never heard of or even witnessed anyone playing music so beautifully, let alone on an old violin. And they never thought for one moment it would catch their fancy later on when the auction resumed. He finished playing and calmly returned the violin to the auctioneer. Before the auctioneer could even ask everyone in the room if they would still like to buy it, there was a rush in the raising of hands. Everyone suddenly wanted it after the impromptu masterly performance. From an unwanted item a short while earlier, the old violin was suddenly the focus of the most intense bidding competition of the auction. From the starting bid of $20, the price immediately shot up to $500. The old violin was ultimately sold for $10,000, which was 500 times more than its lowest asking price. Astounding Transformation  It took only 15 minutes for the old violin to be transformed from something nobody wanted into the star of the auction. And it took a maestro musician to tune up its strings and play a wonderful melody. He showed that what looked unattractive on the outside was actually a beautiful and priceless soul inside the instrument. Perhaps, like the old violin, our lives normally do not seem to have much worth at first. But if we hand them over to Jesus, who is the maestro above all maestros, then He will be able to play beautiful songs through us and their melodies will stun listeners even more. Our lives, then, will catch the world’s attention. Everyone would then want to listen to the music that He produces out of our lives. The story of this old violin reminds me of my own story. I was metaphorically just like that old violin and nobody thought that I would be useful or could be doing something worthwhile with my life. They looked at me as if I had no value. However, Jesus took pity on me. He turned around, looked at me, and asked me: “Peter, what do you want to do with your life?” I said: "Master, where do you live?" “Come and see,” Jesus answered. So I came and saw where He lived, and stayed with Him. On the past 16th of July, I celebrated the 30th anniversary of my priesthood ordination. To know and experience Jesus’ great love for me…how could I thank Him enough? He has turned the old violin into something new and given it great value. Lord, may our lives become Your musical instrument, like that old violin, so that we may produce beautiful music people can sing forever, giving thanks and praise to Your wonderful love.

Little had I expected when I began this efficacious prayer... “O Little Thérèse of the Child Jesus, please pick for me a rose from the Heavenly garden and send it to me as a message of love.” This request, the first of three that compose the ‘Send Me a Rose’ Novena to Saint Thérèse, grabbed my attention.  I was lonely. Lonely in a new city, longing for new friends. Lonely in a new life of faith, longing for a friend and role model. I was reading about Saint Thérèse, my baptismal namesake, without warming up to her. She had lived in passionate devotion to Jesus since she was 12 years old and petitioned the Pope to enter the Carmelite monastery at age 15. My own life had been so very different.  Where’s My Rose? Thérèse had been filled with zeal for souls; she had prayed for the conversion of a notorious criminal. From the hidden world of the convent of Carmel, she devoted her prayer to interceding for missionaries spreading the love of God in far-off places. Lying on her deathbed, this holy nun from Normandy had told her sisters: “After my death, I will let fall a shower of roses. I will spend my Heaven doing good on earth.” The book I was reading said that since her death in 1897, she had showered the world with many graces, miracles, and even roses. “Maybe she will send me a rose,” I thought.  This was the very first Novena I ever prayed. I didn’t think much about the prayer’s two other requests–namely the favor of interceding with God for my intention and to believe intensely in God’s great love for me so that I might imitate Thérèse’s Little Way. I don’t recall what my intention was and I had no understanding of Thérèse’s Little Way. I was focused solely on the rose.  On the morning of the ninth day, I prayed the Novena for the last time. And waited. Maybe a florist will deliver roses today. Or maybe my husband will come home from work with roses for me. By the end of the day, the only rose that had crossed my doorstep was printed on a card that came in a pack of greeting cards from a missionary order. It was a bright red, beautiful rose. Was this my rose from Thérèse?  My Unseen Friend Once in a while, I prayed the Send Me a Rose Novena again. Always with similar results. Roses would show up in little, hidden places; I would meet someone named Rose, see a rose on a book cover, in the background of a photo, or on a friend’s table. Eventually, St. Thérèse came to mind any time I glimpsed a rose. She had become a companion in my daily life. Leaving the Novena behind, I found myself asking her intercession in life’s struggles. Thérèse was now my unseen friend. I read about more and more Saints, marveling over the variety of ways these men, women, and children had lived a passionate love for God. Knowing this constellation of people, whom the Church has declared with certainty are in Heaven, gave me hope. In every place and in every life, it must be possible to live with heroic virtue. Holiness is possible even for me. And there were role models. Lots of them! I tried imitating Saint Francis de Sales’ patience, Saint John Bosco’s attention and gentle guidance for each child in his care, and Saint Elizabeth of Hungary’s charity. I was grateful for their examples that helped me along the way. They were important acquaintances, but Thérèse was more. She had become my friend. A Jump-Start Eventually, I read The Story of a Soul, Saint Thérèse’s autobiography. It was in this personal testimony that I first began to understand her Little Way. Thérèse imagined herself spiritually as a very little child capable of only very small tasks. But she adored her Father and did each little thing with great love, and as a gift for the Father who loved her. The bond of love was greater than the size or success of her undertakings. This was a new approach to life for me. My spiritual life was at a standstill at that time. Maybe Thérèse’s Little Way could jumpstart it. As the mom of a large and active family, my circumstances were far different from Thérèse’s. Maybe I could try approaching my daily tasks with the same loving attitude. In the littleness and hiddenness of my home, much as the convent had been for Thérèse, I could try to do each task with love. Each could be a gift of love for God; and by extension, of love for my husband, my child, the neighbor. With some practice, each diaper change, each meal I placed on the table, and every load of laundry became a small offering of love. My days became easier, and my love for God grew stronger. I was no longer lonely. In the end, it took far longer than nine days, but my impulsive request for a rose set me on a path to a new spiritual life. Through it, Saint Thérèse reached out to me. She drew me into love, to the love that is the communion of the Saints in Heaven, into practicing her “Little Way” and, most of all, into greater love for God. Ultimately I received far more than a rose!  Did you know that Saint Thérèse’s feast is on October 1? Happy feast to the Therese-namesakes out there.

When was the last time you placed your hands on your child’s head, closed your eyes, and wholeheartedly prayed for them? Blessing our children is a powerful act that can shape their lives in profound ways.  Biblical Examples: "David went home to bless his household." (1 Chronicles 16:43) This simple act highlights the importance of speaking positive words over our loved ones. The Lord said to Moses: “This is how you are to bless the Israelites: ‘The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.’” (Numbers 6:22–26) These words convey God's protection, favor, and peace. Encouragement and Exaltation: When we bless someone, we encourage them, lifting them up with positive affirmations. At the same time, we exalt God by acknowledging His goodness and grace. Blessings create a positive atmosphere where children feel loved, valued, and secure. Imparting Identity: Blessings help shape a child's identity. When parents speak words of blessings over their children, they affirm their worthiness and purpose. Children internalize these messages, carrying them into adulthood. The Power of Words: In a study of team performance, Harvard Business School found that high-performing teams received nearly six positive comments for every negative one. Blessings go even further than positive comments. When we bless someone, we declare truth over them—God's truth! Children are like sponges, absorbing messages from their environment. By blessing them, we provide a counterbalance to the negative influences they encounter. As parents or caregivers, we have a responsibility to bless our children—speaking life-giving words that build them up emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. Be cautious not to curse them inadvertently through negative comments or harmful attitudes. Instead, intentionally bless them with love, encouragement, and God's truth. 

My friend and I were strolling along the streets when we heard people shouting behind us. An angry bull was charging wildly along the road in the distance, as terrified people screamed and scampered away. “Let's run!” I screamed, but my friend calmly replied: “If we start running, it will definitely chase us.” After a few moments, no one remained between us and the bull. "That's it. I think we should run!" I yelled to my friend, and we both took off. We ran with all our might, but we didn’t make much headway. Some good-hearted people were attempting to capture the bull. Gasping for breath, I waited for a moment, hoping that we were safe at last. Unfortunately, the chase continued. At some point, I remembered to pray.  Then, I just stopped running. I stood there, staring at the bull charging toward me. When it was just a few inches away, it halted. We looked into each other’s eyes. We stood there, face to face, for a few seconds. I scarcely dared to draw a breath. Then, suddenly it bolted in a different direction, leaving us shaken.  I always wonder what happened at that moment. Who could have stood between me and the bull? I had indeed felt a powerful presence protecting me from harm.  Many of us are perpetually fleeing in fear of something. We rarely face our fear and confront it with the powerful presence of God. We easily become enslaved by pacifiers like alcohol, drugs, shopping, pornography, or even over-commitment to career goals.  Plunging frantically into hedonistic pleasure or overwork to suppress our anxieties may momentarily distract us from the pain of unhappy childhoods, unpaid loans, disagreeable bosses or workmates, drunken spouses, unpleasant homes, or personal failures. But it destroys our ability to build healthy relationships. Afraid to turn to the right or to the left, we let ourselves bolt in panic. How can we heal our hurts without causing further damage and find relief? "I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth."(Psalm 121:1-2). When you are troubled by torments of any sort,  stop running aimlessly and ask for Divine assistance. Look neither to the right nor to the left, but look to the Lord above to find the best answers to your problems.