Engage

Are you familiar with the Saint who founded the first secular institute and a teaching order for women? Saint Angela Merici is believed to have had visions that increased her trust in God and deepened her commitment to her vocation.

When she was deeply concerned about whether her long-departed sister was in Heaven, her answer came in the form of a vision wherein she saw her sister joining in a Heavenly procession with angels and other young girls. Later, she saw a ladder leading to Heaven and several young virgins climbing that ladder. This vision became the seed of her calling to teach young girls about God and to form them for holy living. 

In 1524, at the age of 50, Saint Angela eagerly took on the opportunity to travel to the Holy Land. During the journey, she was suddenly struck with blindness while on the island of Crete. This didn’t stop her, though. She continued her journey with the same enthusiasm as if she had her vision.

She made the entire pilgrimage and visited the sacred shrines. On the journey back home, her sight was miraculously restored while she was praying before a crucifix in the same place where she had become blind. Through this experience, the Lord revealed to Angela that she should always remain aware of the needs around her and remain open to God’s call.

Whenever Sister Angela met with the girls in her home for prayer and classes, she reminded them: “Reflect, that in reality, you have a greater need to serve [the poor] than they have of your service.”

This proves…All you need to have is a little faith

‘You are Special’ always echoed in my heart, even as a child. My mother imprinted those words on me, affirming them when I won a prize or accomplished something, even the smallest of things. These words carried me forward and made me feel special. 

Wherever I turned, I could see flowers and everything working for my good, and I felt special. God loves me, and He made me special, I thought. Little did I know that something dark and hidden had been obscured from my sight for a long time.

The Prediction

Although my grandparents were Catholics, they were deeply influenced by non-Christian neighbors, whose head of the family was well-known as a man of knowledge and well-versed in astrology. Some of his predictions coincided with real events, and gradually, my grandparents depended on him for all the uncertainties in their lives.

His somewhat accurate predictions soon drew them into a spiral. When my mom conceived me, they shared this good news with him, and soon enough, he came up with his prediction. The child to be born would be the ‘seed of asura,’ which, in Hindu mythology, means a descendant of demons.

My parents were shocked when such a predicament was presented to them, but my mother dismissed it with faith. What she did next still amazes me. Every day, she visited a chapel nearby to pray for me. She didn’t pray for a boy or girl, fair or dark, or let this child not turn out as predicted, but instead, she asked for a God-fearing child of God. 

She didn’t stop there but went on to add all the virtues she knew of and even those talents that are most prized by the world. She prayed: “My child should have a deep love for God, be keen in studies and write prose and poems really well, dance and sing songs, play instruments and paint pictures.”

All that she ever dreamed for herself, she declared it for the child in her womb. 

Something Special

When I was born, it was my grandparents who received me. All the predictions lay in the trash. As I grew up, to everyone’s surprise—except my mom’s—I could dance, sing, paint, and write poems and stories. Everything my mother envisioned in front of the altar came true, one by one. More than anything, piety and fear of God were deeply engraved in me. 

Nobody had to tell me to keep quiet in Church. I just knew it was a holy place. At the age of three, during Lent, I wanted to go for the Way of Cross and for the Easter triduum. I didn’t dare fall asleep during Mass or throw any tantrums; instead, I maintained a posture with my hands folded and my head veiled, for I knew, without anyone telling me, that Jesus was truly present there!

Around the same time, I met Mother Teresa! Perched on a wooden stand that was part of a fence, I leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the living Saint who passed me by, but I missed seeing her because of the crowd. On her way out, while she was in the car, I was determined to see her. 

She was in the backseat of the car and just when she reached near, her twinkling brown eyes met mine and lo! I felt such a spark of love. Looking at me, she smiled and waved her hands. I was so thrilled. I knew her to be a living Saint and kept exclaiming to my mom how Mother Teresa smiled at me.

Later, I was greatly fascinated by her work, and her motto: “All for Jesus,” which inspired me to do everything out of love for Him. God’s love always pursued me for sure all those years, and it only made me feel even more special.

A War Within

At the age of six, I danced toward the altar with a white candle in hand. By ten, I was leading hymns as a choir member. At thirteen, I read the liturgy during Sunday Mass, and throughout college, I attended daily Mass and engaged in weekly prayers and Adoration. Oh, how wonderful those moments were! There’s something special about me that God loves, or at least I thought so then. 

One fine day, everything suddenly fell apart when I was told about the prediction about me that had been tucked away in a corner all this while. At first, I was numb and in shock. It was completely opposed to what I believed about myself, but soon, it unlocked those vices that were deeply hidden in me. Though I knew that I was a sinner, this piece of knowledge shook me, and I felt a war within me. 

From then on, whenever I lost my temper or said a negative word, I questioned if that prediction was true. Self-doubt arose, and I felt unworthy and dejected all the time. I began to be scrupulous during Confessions, which made matters worse. 

Self-accusation kept flowing, and it was difficult to cut it out. Once, during an annual retreat in College, I took it up in prayer. I didn’t know then that the enemy can sow lies if given a foothold. Though I didn’t believe in astrology or such predictions, the self-doubt about who I was deeply troubled me, and I struggled.

Close to His Heart

During Adoration, I poured out my heart and clearly heard: “Fear not, I have redeemed you. You are mine.” Then, I saw a child in Jesus’ arms. She was covered with repulsive sores, some so terrible to look at that they emitted a foul odor, with not a single patch of clean skin from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Yet, Jesus held this child close to His bosom with much warmth and love. I realized then that it was truly me in His arms. Regardless of how grievous my nature was, Jesus never abandoned me. Even before I was in my mother’s womb, He knew me. I am a child of God. I belong to Jesus. My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. I am created in God’s image and likeness. “You are mine” kept resounding in my heart. Every time I saw Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, I would inevitably say: “Jesus, I am all Yours, and You are mine.” Every hindrance, every obstacle against the knowledge of God crumbled to pieces. God is at work in me, and I just keep trusting the Lord. 

“For we are what He has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.” (Ephesians 2:10)

Wonder what it is like to be a prison chaplain? Read on…

Chaplaincy in prison is like no other, and we never know what the day ahead is going to look like; actually, we never know what the next minute is going to be like as we chap on the next cell door of the prisoner who has asked to see us.

The request might be as simple as asking to come along to worship, or it might be that someone needs to talk and to have, for the first time (for many), someone to listen to them, not to judge them nor criticize them, but simply just to listen.

The pain of being imprisoned brings to the forefront of many a prisoner’s mind, memories, and issues that they may never have dealt with and had been trying to suppress for years with drugs and drinks. Now, though, they find themselves locked away, sober, and having to face reality.

Chaplains are there to listen, to let inmates share their pains and traumas, and if need be, point them in the direction of the professional help that they need—get them going along to Recovery Groups or help them find a place in a rehabilitation center when they are released from custody. We can even get some counseling put in place for them to truly let their pains and sorrows be dealt with at long last.

Sometimes, though, the conversation isn’t about pain anymore or about their needs. Often, we sit down to listen to a prisoner who shares how they have encountered God in their lives on their own in their cell, and they want to tell us what it was like for them and ask us what it means.

These cell visits make the job so precious. Every meeting is already a blessing, but when God is at work and you just happen to come across it, wow, what a wonderful gift! For it hasn’t been anything the chaplain has said, it hasn’t been any course or worship service the prisoner has been on, it has just been God and that individual sharing time together.

God reveals Himself to the open heart, and a life is being changed in the process.

We often hear this question in society, that if there was a God, why doesn’t He do the miracles He did when He was here on earth over 2000 years ago? Well, He still does, and we, prison chaplains, are privileged to hear and witness such miracles. The church also prays for revival. Again, when a soul is saved, isn’t that revival taking place throughout our land even if it is behind the walls of prison?

It is when we are at our lowest point in life that our God carries us; when we are weak, He is strong. And the people whom chaplains minister to in prison know that better than any of us.

What should I do to move on? Am I moving in the right direction?

Many of us have experienced deep regret and shame from our past. It may be from something outside of our control, or maybe our actions have hurt others or ourselves and damaged our self-esteem, our relationships, or our trust in God. 

As a young adult, I have been increasingly restless about knowing my future. When life becomes routine and monotonous, I tend to think about my past regrets. When this happened a few weeks ago, I broke down crying even though I had to go to work that day, and I was comforted by a lady outside the church.

My own mum was also a great source of support during that day. I had this deep regret from my past, and I so strongly wanted to change it. I was begging God for another chance to fix it. I started praying the Rosary and some novenas more intentionally in the following days.

Moving Forward

Over the next couple of days, God answered me through the things that happened in my life. When I was heading home, I saw a girl crying on the train. I suddenly remembered how others had helped me. It made me more compassionate towards others, and I went up and hugged her.

The next day, I was on my way to attend a Catholic event, and as I was heading there, I had this sudden clarity. If the thing that I regretted so badly had never happened, then I would not be the person I am today nor have the experiences that I do now—New friends, trips overseas, times in Adoration, or visiting the many beautiful Catholic churches around Australia. 

I believe all of these experiences that have broken the monotony of my day-to-day life are a sign from God that I am exactly where I need to be right now. We must keep moving forward because, in this way, God can steer the course of our lives to a future that we can never imagine for ourselves. And He will fulfill the deeper desires of our hearts when the time is right.

What difference can a single person make in this huge world of disturbing disputes?

Stepping out the front door to retrieve the morning paper, I padded to the end of the driveway, bent down, and peered through the plastic bag to scan the headlines. I poured my just-brewed coffee and sat in my favorite recliner to appreciate this pleasant ritual that began my day. 

My eyes moved from one headline to the next. I sadly realized that it was becoming increasingly challenging to enjoy what had once been a source of pleasure. Again, I was confronted with the unraveling of what was once agreed upon in our society—civility. 

A bit disconcerted after perusing several sections, I turned to Facebook, hoping for some uplifting or humorous posts. I found myself chuckling a few times as I scrolled and was grateful for this distraction. Seeing a more somber post, I appreciated the one who made the effort to alert others to current situations in our country and world, which called for a response.

The facts were from a reputable source, and as a person of faith, I was grateful to be more informed as a result of this friend’s concern. After clicking ‘like,’ I happened to see a few comments from others online. This, too, exposed the reality that differences of opinion were no longer just that. Instead, friends were verbally attacking friends, and no effort was being made to be tactful or kind.

Agreeing to Disagree

Disagreements are to be expected since each person is the product of their own experiences, education, and values. Some respondents were obviously well-read, having studied the issues and coming to conclusions based on their knowledge and a clear understanding of what their faith requires.

Others responded emotionally, shooting from the hip with callous attacks on the character of the person who had posted a thoughtful comment. 

I was puzzled as to how what had begun as an attempt to call forth compassion had now disintegrated into an ongoing barrage of insults. What’s more, at times, the parties involved didn’t even know each other!

I remembered what my father had taught me years ago about what happens when we ‘assume’ something about another. My dad took a pen and put a hyphen after the second ‘s’ in that word and another hyphen between the ‘u’ and ‘me.’ He stated that was what was made out of both parties when one chose to ‘assume’ something about the other. 

Might a better response be that of Saint Francis of Assisi in his prayer: “To seek first to understand, rather than to be understood?” How can we do that unless we strive to live the BE-attitudes, where Jesus said we would be blessed (happy!) if we were peacemakers?  It is quite simple, really.  In the words of Pope Francis, the way we make peace is by: “Dialogue, dialogue, dialogue.” 

I have the Guideline Book!

I laid my phone down and placed my newspaper in the recycling bin. It was time to do what I should have done in the first place: open my Bible. Turning to the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, I was reminded of the real source of Truth. 

Jesus spoke challenging words to those influenced by the culture of their day. His harshest words were reserved for the religious leaders, whose convictions were so rigid that there was no room left for compassion.

The self-righteousness that resulted from their sincere attempts to follow every Jewish law to its letter blinded them to their own hypocrisy. As a result, Jesus spent much of His time with the prostitutes, tax collectors, and others whom society had deemed ‘sinners.’

There, He found authenticity; there was no pretense among those already rejected by society. In connecting with Jesus, those on the margins of society found He somehow understood them, their hearts, excuses, needs, and desires. In time, many came to an awareness that the choices they had been making were not bringing them the peace for which they yearned and, thus were willing to try a new way, the Way of Jesus.

My examination of the Scriptures was a reminder that human nature has not changed over the years.  The false pride that the Pharisees and Sadducees held onto only distanced them from hearing the Truth—those who had little to protect, those with little in the way of material goods, status, or power, were the ones open to the transforming power of the Gospel. 

To them, it was indeed, ‘Good News!’—the kind the world needed to hear then and most certainly now.

Would that tomorrow’s headline one day read: “Christians Found Leading the Way in Loving Their Neighbors as Themselves!?” Smiling to myself, I poured a second cup of coffee while composing my next Facebook post. The song reverberating within me caused me to hum along as its words washed over me: “Let There Be Peace on Earth, and Let It Begin with Me.”

Your problem may be big or small, but this DIY is sure to help you out!

I am a daddy’s girl. Growing up, I took pride in being called the ‘Captain’s daughter’ (my father was a police officer). My dad taught me my faith in words and in deeds. He was a daily Mass goer, a Rosary pray-er, and an overall virtuous man. A hard worker, he always provided for his family. He was not only my daddy but also my role model, my #1 fan, and my spiritual advisor.

Nonetheless, when I was in trouble, it was my mother that I ran to. Indeed, I would rather my mother ‘catch’ me doing something wrong than my father. Perhaps that’s because I could not stand the thought of disappointing my father. More likely, though, it was because my mother was truly understanding and compassionate. And when I did have to tell my father, I wanted my mother at my side as my intercessor. 

Mom’s Love

When I experienced a broken heart, I cried in her embrace. Her sympathetic heart broke with mine. My mother knew how to comfort me. She carried me in ways that were different from my father. My dad lifted me up on his shoulders; my mom cradled me close to her heart. It is this relationship with my mother that makes me realize how important it is to stay embraced in the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

By virtue of my Baptism, I am, indeed, my Father’s daughter—a princess, as a matter of fact, for I am a child of the King of kings. And just as I hate disappointing my earthly father, I grieve over all the times I have let my Heavenly Father down. Alas, I must often make use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation to seek forgiveness.

Approaching my Father to confess my wrongdoings, I ask my Mother to be by my side. After examining my conscience and before entering the confessional, I pray a Hail Mary. I am counting on my Heavenly Mother to intercede on my behalf and to help me use the graces our Lord will send me so I can avoid sin in the future. Like my Father, Mother Mary only wants what is best for me.

Whether I have a little problem or a big dilemma, I turn to Mary by praying the Rosary. It is a powerful tool that helps me determine God’s will and then gives me the strength to do it. Sometimes, I pray a whole Rosary for a specific intention.

Often, though, each decade has its own little need that I present to Our Lady for her intercession. Saint Therese of Lisieux assures: “In trial or difficulty I have recourse to Mother Mary whose glance alone is enough to dissipate every fear.”

Hence, when friends and family ask for my prayers, the Memorare is my go-to prayer. I entrust their cares to our Mother, knowing that she will obtain from Her Son what is best, just as she did at the wedding feast at Cana.

My Sweetest Resort

In the exhaustion of motherhood, raising nine children, I turn to Mary for inspiration and encouragement. Many Hail Marys are prayed throughout my day!

As my children get older, they go off into the world without me–to school, college, on trips, and to start their own lives in their own homes–I ask Our Lady to accompany them when and where I can’t. It gives me peace and a blessed assurance knowing that She will keep an eye on them.

At noon, I have my alarm set to remind me to stop and say the Angelus prayer. It doesn’t take long, but it helps me to keep focused. It is kind of like calling your mom in the middle of the day just to say: “Hi!” and let her know that you love her.

Loving my Heavenly Mother doesn’t mean I love God any less, just as loving my mother doesn’t mean my affection for my dad diminishes. On the contrary, loving one only increases my love for the other. Love is never divided; it can only be multiplied.

Saint Maximillian Kolbe declared: “Never be afraid of loving the Blessed Virgin too much. You can never love Her more than Jesus does.” So, run to your Mother. 

All you have to do is trust in Him and wait patiently.

I was recently sitting in front of my computer, ready to install a new update. The loading bar appeared, and I thought: How often do we feel like this in our lives? We wait without knowing if things are progressing. Minutes passed, and I became impatient. Should I cancel? But something was holding me back—a faint hope that there was more going on in the background than I could see. And sure enough, suddenly, the bar jumped ahead.

Patience Is the Key

This little experience opened my eyes—This is exactly what hope feels like. Our lives often resemble a loading beam. We wait for things to clear up, for prayers to be answered, or for hard times to end. But how quickly do we become impatient and want to stop the installation because we think it won’t go any further! Hope is the strength to let the process run its course, trusting that something good is being prepared. “You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.”(James 5:8)

In our hectic world, which expects quick solutions, accepting God’s seemingly slow pace is challenging. But hope means letting the loading bar continue to run, even if the progress is not visible. God is working in the background, like a system receiving a complex update. Even if the screen remains dark, we can trust that He has everything under control. 

Mediator of Hope

Mary, the mother of hope, lived a life full of loading beam moments. Her “yes” at the Annunciation set the divine plan in motion, but she had to wait for the birth of Jesus, for His public ministry, and finally for the resurrection after Golgotha. She lived the waiting with a faith that knew that God’s plan would unfold, even if she did not fully understand it. This is how she became the mediator of hope for all humanity. She teaches us that hope is the patience to hold on to God’s promises, even when the ark seems to stand still.

It is not about understanding every detail but about trusting that God is completing good work in us. “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

The question remains: Where is our loading bar? Will you trust that progress will continue, even if it is sometimes invisible? God’s update for your life is already in progress! At the end of this process, the fullness of His glory will give you new life. God does not forget us: “Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20)

Come, Lord Jesus, and complete Your work in us! Lead us step by step to the goal of your glory!

Do you know how to battle the storm that obstructs your way?

We all want control and we all want freedom. We want to be able to grasp the course of our lives. It is easy to fall into the trap of desiring this control we can never have. We cannot go back and change the past, and we cannot direct the future exactly as we please.

It is also too easy to reduce this desire to a lack of trust in God or a lack of concern for His own will, but often, we may desire this control because we think it will help us serve God best. We get sucked into a cycle of worry because we are trying to please God. But do we stop to see what He has to say about such a thing? 

Tormenting Past

As a university student, I find myself too often worrying about doing everything right. I am actively trying to discern God’s will for my life during such a pivotal time (which, of course, is a good thing), but sometimes to the point that I am too worried if I am failing to properly follow His will or if I am seeking to control and direct my life instead of letting God lead.

The irony here is clear retrospectively but can be unnoticeable at the moment. I find myself stressing about the past, wishing I could go back and find answers to the problems I both endured and created.

The result is a cycle of painful questions–Why did I say that? Why did this person do this? What does it all mean? Did I learn the right lesson? Why did somebody else get something I wanted? I am always trying to find a solution, trying to take back control, trying to figure out what others are doing right that I am not. But sometimes, all we need to do is let go. 

Recently, I attended a Sisters of Life* retreat where we learned about imaginative prayer, a spiritual exercise where you use your imagination to place yourself in a scene and let God speak to you.

At the same time in my life, I was preparing for training as a sailing instructor, another thing that left me worried as I sought to predict how the course would turn out. Would I succeed? If I didn’t, all my summer plans would be ruined, and I would have no job.

What would I do then? What if the other trainees passed and I didn’t? The Bible story my imagination immediately turned to was the story of Jesus calming the storm on the ocean while the disciples were in the boat. I placed myself into the scene. 

Sailing through the Storm

I vividly saw in my mind the boat I had always grown up sailing, the harbor where I spent countless hours practicing, and I saw the storm I had been caught in my first days sailing all those years ago.

When the wind is powerful enough, it fills the sails and tilts the sailboat to its side. The skipper must lean back over the side to flatten the boat or release the mainsheet (the rope used to control the sails), all while continuing to clutch the tiller (steering instrument) and direct the boat with just one hand.

Fighting currents and fighting wind, it takes all your strength and willpower as the waves are splashing over the side and the wind whips your eyes, bringing you to tears. Fighting to hold onto everything and prevent the boat from flipping over can become an impossible task. 

It was then, in my prayer, that Jesus began to walk across the water toward me. He reached out His hand for me to grasp. If I reached for His hand, I would have to let go of one of the controls I was using to keep my boat moving.

I continued to cling to the mainsheet and the tiller, my hands cramping, the wind tearing my eyes and my hair, leaning back so far that my back nearly touched the water in an impossible gymnastic move. He waited for me. I let go of the rope holding the sail and took His hand. It was then that the pressure on the sail from the wind was released.

The boat slowed and flattened until it came to a stop and merely bobbed in the waves, sails flapping in the breeze, with no risk of tipping over. Jesus climbed into the boat. 

Offer it up

Like a patient, loving Father and friend, He directed me when I was ready to take up my course again and keep going now that the pressure and anxiety were released. Sometimes, we don’t have to keep trying to find a solution, fighting to hold everything together, sometimes, all we need to do is let go of the past, our problems and give them to God. Then, we’ll just need to take up our course and begin again.

After having the time for that prayer, I attended Mass, and the homily confirmed the message placed in my heart. The Gospel was about when Peter asks Jesus what is going to happen to John, and Jesus replies: “What concern is it of yours?” The priest emphasized how Peter’s path was very different from John’s.

Jesus not only told Peter not to worry about John but also clarified who he should focus on; He said: “You follow Me.” Peter, of course, went on to be the leader of the Church and now has the most famous basilica in Rome named after him. 

The week following the retreat, I had my sailing training and not only passed but also was offered a job opportunity for future summers.

What was I so worried about? That, along with the other problems and mistakes of the past that I was clinging to, just needed to be let go of to find peace. This does not mean avoiding dealing with problems at all; rather, it allows us to take a step back before returning to the situation, and often, a solution reveals itself.

Sometimes, it does mean letting go of problems we cannot solve, like questions about the past or the future. Jesus wants to bear our burdens with us. When we place our trust in Him and leave our worries at the foot of the Cross, solutions are inevitable. 

*Sisters of Life, based in North America, is a Catholic religious community that follows Augustinian rule and promotes pro-life.

I’m no longer trapped…I found my way.

Living with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD) is an ongoing journey that has greatly shaped my relationship with God and deepened my faith. For many years, I was tormented by nightly nightmares, a relentless reminder of past traumas that seemed inescapable.

My sleep was frequently interrupted by vivid and distressing dreams that left me emotionally drained and spiritually desolate. However, a pivotal moment in my life—my Baptism—marked the beginning of a significant transformation. The nightmares ceased, but my journey of healing was far from over.

CPTSD, unlike its more widely recognized counterpart PTSD, arises from prolonged exposure to trauma, often during childhood. There is no cure—just the management of symptoms. This condition manifests in various ways—emotional flashbacks, hypervigilance, chronic feelings of emptiness, amnesia, and an impaired sense of self.

For me, these symptoms translated into a constant state of anxiety and a pervasive sense of disconnection from the world around me. Yet, amidst these challenges, I came to see how this condition has made me uniquely aware of my own emotions and deeply empathetic and protective towards the struggles of others.

Signs & Symptoms

When the nightmares stopped after my Baptism, I felt that a heavy burden had been lifted, and I could finally rest. In fact, the very first words I heard God speak over me immediately after my Baptism was: “I will give you rest.” This miracle was a tangible sign of God’s grace and a testament to the power of the sacrament. However, while the most debilitating symptom was alleviated, other symptoms persisted, which I believe were opportunities to draw closer to God.

The phrase: “I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28) is commonly interpreted as an invitation to physical rest, a respite from the demands and labors of daily life. In this context, it resonates with those who are weary and burdened, promising them a moment of peace and tranquillity. However, a deeper exploration of this passage reveals that its meaning can be understood more as an invitation to find spiritual rest in God, even amidst the most turbulent times and challenges of life.

The imagery of rest as a spiritual state can be likened to the experience of a warrior in battle. In the heat of conflict, a soldier may not find literal rest, but through faith and reliance on God, they can experience a sense of peace and assurance. It means that even when we are engaged in the battles of life, we can find a deep-seated rest in God’s presence that transcends our circumstances.

When we consider the life of Jesus, we see that He experienced extreme challenges and turmoil, yet He was able to remain at peace. Mark 4:35-41 recounts the story of Jesus calming the storm. While the disciples were terrified by the raging winds and waves, Jesus slept peacefully in the boat.

His calm amid the storm serves as a powerful illustration of what it means to rest in God. When He woke up, He rebuked the wind and the waves, demonstrating His authority over creation and teaching us that true rest is not the absence of storms but the presence of Christ in our lives.

Fighting with Hope

In times of personal battle—whether it be battling the remnants of trauma, confronting fears, or facing life’s uncertainties—finding rest in God means choosing to lean on Him for strength, guidance, and reassurance. It involves surrendering our anxieties and burdens to Him, trusting that He will provide what we need to endure and overcome. The rest He offers is a deep peace that can coexist with our struggles, allowing us to navigate life’s challenges with hope and resilience.

Furthermore, the call to rest in God invites us to cultivate a deeper relationship with Him, one that transforms how we engage with our circumstances. When we actively seek His presence in prayer, scripture, and community, we begin to experience the essence of that rest. It becomes a source of strength that carries us through difficult times, empowering us to face our battles with a renewed spirit.

The journey towards healing is not a straightforward path, but it is filled with moments of grace and encounters with God’s love. I believe that God has a purpose for allowing my condition to persist; I understand that my weaknesses are a conduit for God’s strength.

If I were completely healed, I might be tempted to rely solely on my own strength and drift away from the closeness I now share with God. My struggles are a blessing that keep me grounded in my need for God’s grace, reminding me of His constant presence in my life. 

In the words of Romans 5:3-5: “We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” My journey with CPTSD is a testament to the enduring hope and transformative power of God’s love.

It was the year 387, when Monica saw seventeen years of her fervent prayers in tears being answered. She was overwhelmed with joy upon seeing her wayward son Augustine getting baptized by Saint Ambrose in Milan. Soon, they left for Africa, where she fell ill due to the land journey.

While in Ostia, Monica announced that she did not want to sail back to North Africa and instead preferred to remain in Ostia until her death. Her sons were surprised to learn their mother’s decision because they were hoping to take her back to her homeland.

She told them she wanted them to remember her at the Lord’s altar, wherever they were. Through this statement, Monica made it clear that remembering her at the Mass was way more important than her burial location. 

When Monica knew she was nearing her death, she revealed to Augustine: “Son, nothing in this world now affords me delight. I do not know what there is now left for me to do or why I am still here, all my hopes in this world being now fulfilled.” A few days later, she fell seriously ill, and her soul breathed the last.

Respecting her wishes, Monica was buried in Ostia but soon her body was moved to a hidden crypt in Santa Aurea in the 6th century. Later, Saint Monica’s tomb was transferred to the Basilica of Sant’Agostino in Rome.

Monica, the patron Saint of Mothers, truly believed that she would be close to her sons during the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. Her unwavering faith in Christ is a profound example that shows prayer without ceasing and hope without doubting shall bear fruit one day.

Last spring, the enthusiasm I felt about planting a vegetable garden was so great! I couldn’t wait for the right time to put those tiny plants into the dirt. When the time came, I had to decide what to plant. Last year and again this year, I decided to plant vegetables that could be used in preparing a salad. This included lettuce, tomatoes, green onions, radishes, and a variety of peppers.

As my garden began giving us a variety of vegetables, my husband and I savored the taste of our fresh salads almost daily throughout the summer. I suppressed the thought of the season-ending and that the last harvest would be soon. It just wouldn’t be the same going to the grocery store and purchasing these very items that God had provided us all summer long. Instead, I decided to be grateful for His blessings.

Much to my surprise and delight, the season’s last tomato was heart-shaped! My mind drifted to God’s love. This is certainly a gift to be shared. I took a few pictures of my gift from God and sent them to my family, simply saying: “Jesus loves you!” One dear friend told me that the tomato resembled the Sacred Heart of Jesus. She added that God can even use a tomato to tell us how much He loves us. I didn’t want this beautiful and delicious tomato to spoil, so I eventually used it.

As I write this story, I’m still overwhelmed by how much God loves me. Our Lord loves us in big ways, even through the smallest details of our lives, and even by using a heart-shaped tomato!

He said: “The Kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.” (Mark 4-26:27)