“All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way…” (Isaiah 53:6)
My current car has a lane departure warning system. Every time I stray out of my designated lane while driving, the car gives me a warning signal.
This was annoying at first, but now I appreciate it. My old car did not have such advanced technology. I had not realized how often I drifted out of bounds while driving.
Over the past few months, I have started participating in the Sacrament of reconciliation (Confession). For decades, I had ignored this practice.
I felt like it was a waste of time. I thought to myself: Why does a person need to confess his sins to a priest when they can speak directly to God? Examining your conscience regularly is uncomfortable. Admitting your sins, out loud, is humiliating. But the alternative is even worse. It’s like refusing to look in a mirror for years. You may have all sorts of stuff stuck on your face, but you go about under the false impression that you look fine.
These days, I try to go to Confession weekly. I take time for self-reflection and the examination of my conscience. I have noticed a change within me. Now, as I go through each day, my internal warning system has been reactivated. Every time I stray off the path of goodness by aimless striving and endless pursuits, my conscience gives me a signal. This allows me to get back on course before I wander too far into the danger zone.
“For you were going astray like sheep, but now you have returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.” (1 Peter 2:25)
The Sacrament of reconciliation is a gift that I disregarded for too long. I was like a sheep who had wandered away. But now I have turned to my Shepherd, the Guardian of my soul. He checks my spirit when I stray. He redirects me onto the path of goodness and safety.
Nisha Peters serves in the Shalom Tidings’ Editorial Council and also writes her daily devotional, Spiritual Fitness, at susannapeters.substack.com
The Mexican Revolution which began in the early 1920s, led to the persecution of the Catholic community in that country. Pedro de Jesus Maldonado-Lucero was a seminarian at that time. Once he became a priest, despite the risk, he stood with his people. He tended to his flock during a terrible epidemic, founded new apostolic groups, reestablished associations, and ignited Eucharistic piety among his parishioners. Upon discovering his pastoral activities, the government deported him, but he managed to return and continue serving his flock, in hiding. One day, after hearing the confessions of the faithful, a gang of armed men busted his hiding place. Father Maldonado managed to grab a reliquary with Consecrated Hosts as they forced him out. The men forced him to walk barefoot throughout the town, as a crowd of the faithful followed him. The city mayor grabbed Father Maldonado's hair and dragged him toward the city hall. He was knocked to the ground, resulting in a skull fracture that popped out his left eye. He had managed to keep his grip on the pyx until this time, but now it fell out of his hands. One of the thugs took some Holy Hosts, and as he forcefully stuffed the hosts inside the priest’s mouth, he shouted: “Eat this and see if He can save you now.” Little did the soldier know that just the night before, during the Holy Hour, Father Maldonado had prayed that he would happily give his life for an end to the persecution ‘if only he would be allowed to take Communion before his death.’ The thugs left him for dead in a pool of his own blood. Some local women found him still breathing and rushed him to a nearby hospital. Father Pedro Maldonado was born into eternal life the next day, on the 19th anniversary of his priestly ordination. Pope John Paul II canonized this Mexican priest in 2000.
By: Shalom Tidings
MoreWhatever the situation you are going through, God will make a way where there seems to be no way… Today, my son Aaric brought home his dictation book. He got a red star with a ‘good’ remark. This might not be a big deal for a kindergartener, but for us, it is a celebrated achievement. The first week of school, I got a call from his class teacher. We dreaded this call, my husband and I. As I tried hard to explain his communication skills (or lack thereof) to his teacher, I remember confessing that while I cared for his big sister with special needs, I had fallen into this pattern of doing things without being asked. As she could not utter a single word, I had to guess her needs. The same mode was turned on for Aaric, too, in his early days. Even before he asked for water, I would give it to him. We had a bond that didn’t need words, a language of love, or so I thought. How miserably wrong I was! Not much later, when his little brother Abram turned three months old, I had to take those heavy steps again to see the counselor at school. This time, it was about Aaric’s poor writing skills. His dear class teacher panicked when she saw him drop his pencil on the table and stubbornly fold his hands as if to say: “I won’t write.” We dreaded this, too. His little sister Aksha was an expert at scribbling at the age of two, but Aaric wouldn’t even hold the pencil. He just didn’t fancy it. The First Step After receiving instructions from the counselor, I visited the principal, who insisted that we undergo a thorough assessment if his communication continues to be weak. I couldn’t even think of that back then. For us, he was a miracle baby. After what we went through with our firstborn and three miscarriages, Aaric had defied all odds. He was born full-term, unlike what the doctors had predicted. His vitals were normal at birth. “He’s a big baby!” exclaimed the doctor on bringing him out through a C-section. We watched him grow step by step with almost bated breath, praying nothing would go wrong. Aaric soon reached all his milestones. However, when he was just one year old, my father mentioned that he may need speech therapy. I brushed it off as being too early to diagnose. The truth was, I didn’t have the strength to face another problem. We were already worn out with all that our firstborn was going through. Anna was born preterm at 27 weeks. After many grueling days in the NICU, she was diagnosed with severe brain damage at three months and had epileptic seizures. After all the treatments and medications, our now 9-year-old daughter still battles with cerebral palsy and intellectual disability. She is unable to sit up, walk, or talk. Countless Blessings There’s a limit to holding off the inevitable, so six months ago, we reluctantly took Aaric to get an initial assessment. The ADHD diagnosis was hard. We struggled to accept it, but we still put him through speech therapy. At this point, he was only stuttering a few words. A few days back, I mustered the courage to go to the hospital with Aaric and get a full, thorough assessment. Mild autism was what they said. As we were going through the process of assessment, several questions were asked. To my surprise, my response to most of these questions was: “He wasn’t able to, but now he can.” Praise God! By the power of the Holy Spirit living in him, everything is possible. I believe that praying and blessing him every day before going to school has made a difference. The change was radical when he began to memorize Bible verses. And the beauty is that he recites those verses just when I need them. Indeed, the Word of God is living and active. I believe the transformation is ongoing. Whenever I feel low, God surprises me by making him say a new word. Amid the tantrums he puts up, and when everything seems to crumble down, my little girl, three-year-old Aksha, simply comes up and gives me a hug and a kiss. She really knows how to comfort her mama. I believe that God will surely intervene and heal our eldest daughter, Anna, too, for nothing is impossible for Him. Change is already visible—the number of times she goes into epileptic seizures has gone down tremendously. In our walk of life, things may not be going as expected, but God never leaves nor forsakes us. Just like oxygen that is essential yet invisible, God is ever present and provides the life we need so badly. Let us cling to Him and not doubt whilst in the darkness. May our testimony reveal the truth of how beautiful, wonderful, and loving our God is and how He transforms us to say: “I was …, but now I am ….”
By: Reshma Thomas
MoreLife is full of unexpected turns. Nearly six years after the death of her mother, Bernadette had to suffer the loss of her father too. Since leaving Lourdes to join the religious order, she never had a chance to see him. When assailed by this sudden demise, this is how Bernadette found strength—A sister found her crying in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary, and when the sister tried to console her, she said: “My sister, always have great devotion to the agony of our Savior. Last Saturday in the afternoon, I prayed to Jesus in agony for all those who would die in that moment, and it was precisely the very moment my father entered eternity. What a consolation it is for me to have helped him.” For Bernadette, the Saint who, as a little girl, had the apparition of Mary at Lourdes, life was not without troubles. She had to go through many tribulations; big and small humiliations bombarded her. She often said: “When my emotions are too strong, I remember the words of Our Lord: 'It is I, don’t be afraid.' I immediately appreciate and thank Our Lord for this grace of rejection and humiliation from those in authority. It is the love of this Good Master who would remove the roots from this tree of pride. The more little I become, the more I grow in the Heart of Jesus.”
By: Shalom Tidings
MoreI was going through my old prayer journal, wherein I had written prayer requests. To my amazement, every single one of them was answered! Anyone taking a cursory look at the news these days may find themselves despairing, wondering where God is, and needing hope. I know I have found myself in this position on certain days. We feel out of control, and we wonder what we can do about all of the horrible things we see. I want to share with you a story. A few years ago, I started keeping a journal of prayer requests of the people and things I was praying for. I often prayed a Rosary for these things, as I still do today for prayer petitions. One day, I came across an old journal of my written prayer requests. I began to peruse the pages of what I had written long ago. I was astounded. Each prayer had been answered—maybe not always in ways I thought they would be answered, but they were answered. These were no small prayers. “Dear Lord, please help my aunt stop drinking alcohol. Dear Lord, please help my infertile friend have children. Dear Lord, please heal my friend from cancer.” As I scrolled down the page, I realized that every single prayer had been answered. Many in a bigger and better way than I imagined. There were a couple that, at first glance, I thought had not been answered. One friend who needed healing from cancer had passed away, but then I remembered that she had confession and anointing of the sick before she died. She died peacefully in the mercy of God, surrounded by His healing grace. But other than that, the majority of the prayers were answered here in this world. Many prayer requests had seemed like impossible mountains, but they had been moved. God’s grace takes our prayers and our perseverance in prayer, and He moves all things toward good. In the quiet of my prayer, I heard a whisper: “I have been working all these things throughout time. I have been writing these stories. Trust me.” I believe we are in perilous times. But I also believe that we are made for these times. You may say to me: “Your personal prayer requests being answered seems great, but nations are at war.” And my response to that is, again, nothing is impossible with God, not even stopping war by using our prayers. I remember it happening in the past. We should believe that God can act that big right now. For those not old enough to remember, there was a scary time when it looked like a blood bath was coming. But through the power of the Rosary, things changed. I was in 8th grade, and I remember hearing about all the turmoil in the Philippines. Ferdinand Marcos was the dictator of that country at the time. It was shaping up to become a bloody battle with a few people already dead. A staunch critic of Marcos, Benigno Aquino, was assassinated. But it didn’t become a bloody battle. Cardinal Jaime Sin of Manila had asked people to pray. They went out in front of the military, praying the Rosary aloud. They stood in front of tanks praying. And then, a miraculous thing happened. The military laid down their weapons. Even the secular media, the Chicago Tribune, reported how “Guns fell to Rosaries.” The revolution was over, and the glory of God was seen. Don’t stop believing in miracles. Expect them. And pray the Rosary every chance you get. Lord knows our world needs it.
By: Susan Skinner
MoreAt the age of six, a little girl decided she did not like the words ‘prison’ and ‘hanged’. Little did she know that at the age of 36, she would be walking with death-row prisoners. In 1981, the shocking murders of two young children became front-page news in Singapore and around the world. Investigation led to the arrest of Adrian Lim, a medium who had sexually abused, extorted, and controlled a string of clients by fooling them into believing that he had supernatural powers, torturing them with electro-shock ‘therapy.’ One of them, Catherine, had been a student of mine who had gone to him to be treated for depression after her grandmother’s death. He had prostituted her and abused her siblings. When I heard that she was charged with participating in the murders, I sent her a letter and a beautiful picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Six months later, she wrote back, asking, “How can you love me when I have done such bad things?” For the next seven years, I visited Catherine weekly in prison. After months of praying together, she wanted to ask forgiveness from God and all the people that she had hurt. After she had confessed her sins, she had such peace, she was like a different person. When I witnessed her conversion, I was beside myself with joy, but my ministry to prisoners was just beginning! Tracing Back I grew up in a loving Catholic family with 10 children. Every morning, we would all go to Mass together, and my mother would reward us with breakfast in a coffee shop near the church. But after a while, it stopped being about food for the body and became solely about nourishment for the soul. I can trace my love for the Eucharist to those early morning Masses with my family where the seed of my vocation was sown. My father made every one of us feel especially loved, and we never failed to run joyfully into his arms on his return from work. During the war, when we had to flee Singapore, he would home-school us. He’d teach us phonetics every morning, asking us to repeat a passage in which someone was sentenced to death at Sing Sing prison. At the tender age of six, I already knew that I didn’t like that passage. When it was my turn, instead of reading it, I recited the Hail Holy Queen. Little did I know that I would one day be praying with prisoners. It’s Never Too Late When I began visiting Catherine in prison, several other prisoners showed interest in what we were doing. Whenever a prisoner requested a visit, I was glad to meet with them and share God’s loving mercy. God is a loving Father who is always waiting for us to repent and turn back to Him. A prisoner who has broken the law is similar to the Prodigal Son, who came to his senses when he reached rock bottom and realized, “I can go back to my Father.” When he returned to his Father, asking for forgiveness, the Father came running out to welcome him back. It is never too late for anyone to repent of their sins and turn back to God. Embracing Love Flor, a Filipino woman accused of murder, learned about our ministry from other prisoners, so I visited her and supported her as she appealed her death sentence. After the rejection of her appeal, she was very angry with God and wanted nothing to do with me. When I passed her door, I would tell her that God still loved her no matter what, but she sat in despair staring at the blank wall. I asked my prayer group to pray the Novena to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and offer their sufferings specifically for her. Two weeks later, Flor had a sudden change of heart and asked me to come back with a priest. She was bubbling over joy because Mother Mary had visited her cell, telling her not to be afraid because she would stay with her until the end. From that moment, until the day of her death, there was only joy in her heart. Another memorable inmate was an Australian man who was imprisoned for drug trafficking. When he heard me singing a hymn to Our Lady to another prisoner, he was so touched that he asked me to visit him regularly. His mother even stayed with us when she came to visit from Australia. Eventually, he also asked to be baptized as a Catholic. From that day on, he was full of joy, even as he walked to the gallows. The superintendent there was a young man, and as this former drug dealer walked to his death, this officer came forward and embraced him. It was so unusual, and we felt it was like the Lord Himself embracing this young man. You just can’t help but feel God's presence there. In fact, I know that every time, Mother Mary and Jesus are there to receive them into heaven. It has been a joy for me to truly believe that the Lord who called me has been faithful to me. The joy of living for Him and for His people has been far more rewarding than anything else.
By: Sister M. Gerard Fernandez RGS
MoreWhat is the way out of fear, anxiety, and depression? Christians believe that God is three in One. We profess faith in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Behaviorally, however, we place our emphasis on the first two Persons of the Trinity—we pray the Our Father and believe He sent His Son, Jesus, for our salvation. And, while we recognize that the Holy Spirit is the divine “Lord and giver of Life,” we tend to forget the Spirit and don’t give Him the opportunity to give us Life! Let’s revisit the story of Pentecost and rediscover how the Holy Spirit can be the “Lord and giver of life” for us, because without the Spirit, our faith becomes a barren, joyless moralism. The second chapter of Acts (vs. 1-11) describes the Apostles’ encounter with the Holy Spirit and how they behaved afterwards. Following fifty days of uncertainty, something big is about to happen. Jesus had entrusted His Mission to the Apostles the previous week, but are they ready to proclaim the risen Lord? Can they set aside their doubts and fears? The coming of the Holy Spirit changes everything. The disciples are no longer afraid. Before, they feared for their lives; now, they are ready to preach the Good News to all the nations with a zeal that cannot be suppressed. The Holy Spirit neither takes away all their difficulties nor the opposition of the religious establishment. But the Spirit endows them with a dynamism that enables them to proclaim the Good News to the ends of the earth. How did this happen? The lives of the Apostles needed to be radically changed, and the gift of the Spirit is how that change occurred. In the Spirit, they encountered the third person of the Trinity—a real person, not just a force, but a person with whom we can be in relationship. While we know the Father as Creator, and the Son as Redeemer, we come to know the Spirit as Sanctifier, the one who makes us holy. It is the Holy Spirit that makes Jesus live within us. While Jesus is no longer physically present among us, He remains within us through the Holy Spirit. And that Spirit brings peace—a peace that does not free us from problems and hardships, but enables us in our problems to find peace, to persevere, and to hope because we know we are not alone! Faith is not a problem-solving enterprise: when one problem goes away, another takes its place. But faith assures us that God is with us in our struggles, and that the love of God and the peace Jesus promised are ours for the asking. In today’s frenzied world, super-charged by social media and our digital devices, we find ourselves pulled in a thousand directions, and sometimes we get burned out. Then we look for the quick fix, sometimes resorting to self-medication through alcohol or pill-popping, or one hedonistic thrill after another. During such restlessness, Jesus enters our lives through the Holy Spirit and says, “Peace be with you!” Jesus throws us an anchor of hope. As Saint Paul says in his letter to the Romans, the Spirit keeps us from falling back into fear, for He makes us realize that we are beloved children of our heavenly Father (Romans 8:15). The Holy Spirit is the Consoler, who brings the tender love of God into our hearts. Without the Spirit, our Catholic life unravels. Without the Spirit, Jesus is little more than an interesting historical figure, but with the Holy Spirit He is the risen Christ, a powerful, living presence in our lives here and now. Without the Spirit, Scripture is a dead document. But, with the Spirit, the Bible becomes the living Word of God, a word of life. The living God speaks to us and renews us through His Word. Christianity without the Spirit is joyless moralism; with the Spirit, our faith is life itself—a life we can live and share with others. How can we invite the Holy Spirit into our hearts and souls? One way is by reciting a simple prayer: “Veni Sancte Spiritus” (“Come, Holy Spirit”). Another way to deepen your relationship with the Holy Spirit is to reflect upon the seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit, which we receive at Confirmation. Find a commentary on wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord, and strive to integrate these gifts into your everyday life. A good way to know if you are living the gifts of the Spirit is to ask yourself if your life manifests the fruits of the Holy Spirit (found in Paul’s letter to the Galatians [5:22-23]). If love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are present in your life, then you know the Holy Spirit is at work! Prayer: Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your divine love! Endow us with your gifts and make our lives fertile ground that produces an abundance of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. AMEN.
By: Deacon Jim McFadden
MoreA principal reason why the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s was so successful, both morally and practically, was that it was led largely by people with a strong religious sensibility. The most notable of these leaders was, of course, Martin Luther King. To appreciate the subtle play between King’s religious commitment and his practical work, I would draw your attention to two texts—namely, his Letter from the Birmingham City Jail and his “I Have a Dream” speech, both from 1963. While imprisoned in Birmingham for leading a nonviolent protest, King responded to certain of his fellow Christian ministers who had criticized him for going too fast, expecting social change to happen overnight. The Baptist minister answered his critics in a perhaps surprising manner, invoking the aid of a medieval Catholic theologian. King drew their attention to the reflections of St. Thomas Aquinas on law, specifically Thomas’ theory that positive law finds its justification in relation to the natural law, which finds its justification in relation to the eternal law. Aquinas means that what makes a practical, everyday law righteous is that it somehow gives expression to the principles of the moral law, which in turn are reflective of God’s own mind. Therefore, King concluded, unjust positive laws, such as the Jim Crow regulations that he was contesting, are not just bad laws; they are immoral and finally offensive to God. Here is King’s own language: “One may well ask: ‘How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?’ The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws.” But then King contrasts this with obedience to an unjust law: “Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that ‘an unjust law is no law at all.’” And in clarifying the difference, he turns to Aquinas: “Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust? A just law is a manmade code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law.” This is not pious boilerplate; rather, it reveals what gave King’s movement its justification and purpose. The very same dynamic was on display six months later, when King addressed the throng who had gathered at the Lincoln Memorial for the March on Washington. He was not giving a sermon. He was making a political speech, advocating in the public place for social change. But attend to some of the language that he used: “I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; ‘and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.’” He was directly relating the social revolution he was advocating to the mystical vision of the prophet Isaiah. And listen to the magnificent conclusion of the address in which he artfully blends the lyrics of an American patriotic song to the lyrics of a song he and his family sang in church: “And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” Once again, on King’s reading, the political nests within the moral, which nests within the sacred. Martin Luther King derived from his religious heritage not only the metaphysics that informed his social activism, but also the nonviolent method that he employed. What Jesus reveals in the rhetoric of the Sermon on the Mount (“Love your enemies”; “Bless those who curse you, pray for those who maltreat you”; “If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn and give him the other”; etc.) and even more strikingly in his word of forgiveness from the cross is that God’s way is the way of peace, nonviolence, and compassion. As a Christian, King knew in his bones that reacting to oppression with violence would only exacerbate the tensions within society. He sums up this principle in one of his best-known sermons: “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” Within the confines of this brief article, I cannot begin adequately to address the social upheaval occurring in our culture today. But I will say simply this: it is indisputably clear that there are severe moral deficits in our society that must be addressed, but the best way to do so is from within a moral and finally religious framework. May Martin Luther King’s model of leadership in this regard be a lodestar.
By: Bishop Robert Barron
MoreHappiness is a ring on your finger Have you ever wondered why the finger next to the pinkie is traditionally the one with the wedding ring? The Chinese came up with this explanation. Let’s try a simple exercise. Join your hands in prayer with the fingers pointing up. Now move your palms with the fingertips still touching each other. Bend both middle fingers downward so that the tips of these fingers are now pointing down and the backs of both fingers are touching. Allow the hands to remain in this position, then try pulling back the thumbs and allowing them to touch again. This is quite easy. The thumbs represent your relationship with your parents. In your childhood, you live with them and important decisions can’t be made without them, but at some point in life, you usually start making decisions on your own and move out. You separate physically from them. Now, try the same motion for the index finger. Notice that it is also easy to do this with your index and pinkie fingers, which represent siblings and children. You will not be living with your siblings or your children all your life. Finally, try to move the ring fingers, which represent you and your spouse. It is impossible unless you separate the middle fingers. So, what do the middle fingers bent downward represent? - The sacrament of Matrimony. When a man and a woman make vows of commitment to each other until death, they are bonded by God into a one flesh union, as husband and wife. If the middle fingers are separated it is easy to pull the ring fingers away from each other. So, spouses can only be separated by death, or by breaking their covenant with God and each other. Today, we see a lot of confusion about the meaning, value and purpose of marriage and an increase in broken families. Tension between spouses is amplified by the modern world’s exclusion of God from relationships. When marriage is about personal fulfillment, people become preoccupied by the flaws, shortcomings and failures of their spouses and of others. Perhaps this is why Pope St John Paul II, anticipating this degeneration of modern society, exhorted the people of Australia, “As the family goes, so goes the nation and so goes the whole world in which we live. Do not be afraid to take a chance on Peace – to teach Peace, to live Peace… Love between man and woman cannot be built without sacrifices and self-denial.” When they fail to do this, we have chaos in the family and chaos in the world. He also reminded the people of the United States that “Freedom consists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do what we ought.” Protect each other When the woman caught in adultery was brought before Jesus(Jn 8: 3-11), those who condemned her dragged her into the middle of the crowd to expose her shame and humiliate her publicly. Jesus unexpectedly responded by unmasking their own sinfulness, instead of embarrassing her further. When the crowd melted away in reaction to his challenge, He (the only sinless one among them) forgave her and encouraged her not to sin again. When we contemplate the Bible’s description of St Joseph’s treatment of women, we see the same compassionate behaviour. When he was told that Mary was with child, Joseph was unwilling to expose her to shame. Jesus and Joseph both followed the same action plan. The woman before them should not be publicly shamed, but treated with respect and kindness. My wife and I are not perfect. We both have our share of weaknesses. When I became her husband, I received a special grace to be her champion, so that her deficiencies, faults and failures are not exposed to anyone, even close family members. When I, as a husband, fail to fulfill this mission, then an attitude of disapproval poisons our family life and needs to be remedied. Even before our marriage, we had often spoken about this. Both of us had seen plenty of examples, among our family and friends, of a husband or wife badmouthing the other at social events. Recently my wife pointed out an opposite example. We had known this couple for a long time, but recently, when my wife interacted more closely with the wife, she noticed weaknesses in her character. My wife told me something that made me seriously consider my own attitude in this area. She said that in all the years we had known and interacted with this couple, her weaknesses had never been exposed because her husband shielded her so well. Unquenchable Fire “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire” (St Catherine of Siena). Becoming the person God meant you to be is not easy or quick to achieve. Short-term sacrifices won’t keep the fire blazing. In the early stages of my marriage, I was motivated to go out of my way to serve my wife. I did this with sincerity, but also some discomfort as I stretched myself to meet her needs. However, I became inordinately proud of myself for doing so. Those affectionate courtesies that dominated the early phase of my marriage began to diminish because I started to feel that I had done enough to earn the respect I desired. Then I realized that a few considerate actions, were not going to convert anyone in my family, because my intentions were self-centred. If I wanted to lead my wife and kids to Heaven, I needed to engage in a lifetime of self-sacrificial actions. Marriage isn’t a contract where each of the partners gives 50% and gets 50%. It is a covenant relationship where each of the spouses gives 100% of what they have to give and receives the wholehearted support of their spouse. As Pope St John Paul II put it so well, “Love consists of a commitment which limits one’s freedom. It is a giving of the self, and to give oneself means just that: to limit one’s freedom on behalf of another.” (Love and Responsibility). So, I began to treat my wife and children as if I were hosting the Holy Family in my home as honoured guests. Sometimes my actions aren’t noticed or appreciated, but the Holy Family never fails me. They taught me true joy and I have never had more refreshing sleep. The next day I get up and do it all over again, not relying on my own strength but by depending on the Lord’s mighty power. I believe family life is strangled by service that is limited and calculated. However, service that costs us something - that is sacrificial - invigorates and inspires reciprocal loving service. This is the path to sainthood. Lord Jesus, help me to contemplate The Holy Family. In this age, when the attack on the family is so fierce, help me to spend more time in prayer with the Holy Family so that I may care better for my loved ones. Help me to unselfishly grow in holiness so that I may lead my family to encounter your unfailing love and mercy. Amen. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, protect our families.
By: Jenson Joseph
MoreThe coronavirus is indeed causing havoc in the world today; but is there a virus deadlier than this? As I write this, almost the whole world is in the grips of the virus that has paralysed mankind. Who would have thought that in this age of advanced technology, with daily scientific discoveries, we could be taken by surprise? Or that, while mankind has ventured to nearby planets, our plans for our lives and our future together on earth could be so dampened that we will be forced to live an inferior lifestyle, very different to what we are used to? 2020 has barely begun, but Australia (where I live) has already suffered several disastrous events, culminating in the current crisis. The year began with catastrophic bushfires which burned massive tracts of land, killed numerous people and animals and destroyed many, many homes and properties. Smoke darkened our skies, intruded into our homes and even interfered with sporting fixtures. Just as we were starting to recover from that, extensive storms and heavy rain struck, pelting some places with huge hailstones and causing flash floods. Just when we thought we can now move on; the Coronavirus has invaded our lives. Now, we are all enduring the stifling restrictions which are crippling our economies, our communities, our education and our access to the sacraments. Mankind is afraid and though many still show a brave face, we are all aware that some of us may not see tomorrow. Currently much of the world is in a war-like situation. Some people are fighting for toilet rolls, stockpiling food for months and cutting off all physical contact. All public places except essential services are closed and New York - the centre of international business - is now under the supervision of the National guard. This is an extraordinarily difficult time for leaders of all nations as they venture into uncharted territories. A few of them have even contracted the virus themselves. The virus, and all the restrictions it has caused, can only damage us physically and psychologically. Scripture teaches us that the body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, so we must protect and care for it, but Jesus reminded us not to fear what can only kill the body. Our souls are invaluable in God’s sight and it lives forever. Jesus came into a world focused on the physical life and material things to show us that the spiritual life is more important than anything else. The flesh must pass away, but the soul will live on eternally. The real virus that has paralysed mankind today is SIN. No other virus has ever caused greater damage than the virus of SIN that has crippled and degenerated us so much that many are already living dead, empty lives, fulfilling no other purpose than to entertain themselves. Sin has distanced us from God, darkened our minds, hardened our hearts, dulled our ears, blinded our eyes and sickened our souls. This is far more terrible than being unable to move around freely doing what we like. We could face an eternity separated from all that is good, unless we change our ways. Jesus took up the burden of sins of all mankind and died for all of us, so we could live with Him forever. So, we need not fear death if we accept His salvation and follow Him daily. We will all die one day and because of our hope in Jesus, we can rejoice as death approaches. So if you are a Christian, this is the time to showcase our faith, to be fearless, trusting in the life that Jesus has already offered and prepared for us. This is the time as the church teaches, to receive spiritual communion. The heart of a Christian would be full of joy in this time since nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. And any sickness especially leading to death is a time of great rejoicing for such a person. As St Paul says, “For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain” Philippians 1:21. We must now, without fail, pray for mercy and forgiveness on behalf of our brothers and sisters who do not know Him and haven’t accepted HIM as their Lord and Saviour and are unaware of the joy of that relationship. We must also do whatever is possible to help those around us as inspired by the Holy Spirit. For those who only follow a tradition by going to church every Sunday and do not really share a relationship with God, this is your time to look deep within your heart where Christ awaits you. This is where HE always desired to meet you. Instead of filling the free time with empty things during this shutdown, seize the opportunity to spend time in silence, read the Bible and allow HIS word to take flesh in your life. There is no better time than this to forgive and to ask forgiveness from those whom we have offended. For those who are still following other man-made religions/ways of life (receiving some sort of temporal satisfaction), Jesus declares that HE is the truth, the way and the life. This means that if you are really searching for the truth, all roads will lead you to Jesus Christ alone. Are you searching for the truth or are you settling for breadcrumbs falling off the table? For those who are depending only on their good works or those who are following nothing at all, this is your time to reflect on your inner life and give your souls and hearts to Jesus and be saved. “Taste and see that the Lord is good” Psalm 34:8. Let’s prepare ourselves for our last day that will come at an hour we do not expect. It may be when Jesus will return in glory to gather all those who love and follow Him. Or it may be at any moment before that. Chris Hadfield, the first Canadian to walk in space states that astronauts do not go into space with their fingers crossed and that the more you know, the less you fear. In other words, the less you know, the more you fear. I encourage you to know Jesus Christ, the Son of God, for to know him is to know the truth (John 8:32) and to have eternal life (John 17:3). Let us recognise that the real virus that afflicts us is Sin. Let us allow Jesus to take over our lives, deliver us from sin and lead us to eternal life.
By: Cyril Abraham
MoreBy now most of you are probably aware of the depressing statistics regarding the “nones,” that is to say, those in this country who claim no religious affiliation. The most recent survey showed that now fully one fourth of Americans belong to no religion at all—that’s approximately 80,000,000 people. And among those in the 18-29 age group, the percentage of nones goes up to 40! This increase has been alarmingly precipitous. Fifty years ago, only a fraction of the country would have identified as unreligious, and even a decade ago, the number was only at 14%. What makes this situation even more distressing is that fully 64% of young adult nones were indeed raised religious but have taken the conscious and active decision to abandon their churches. Houston, we definitely have a problem. I have written frequently regarding practical steps that religious leaders ought to be taking to confront this rising tide of secularist ideology, and I will continue to do so. But for the moment, I would like to reflect on a passage from the Gospel of Luke, which was featured on the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God, and which sheds considerable light on this issue. It has to do with the visit of the shepherds to Mary and the Christ child in the stable at Bethlehem, and it hinges on three words: haste, astonished, and treasured. We hear that, upon receiving the angel’s message, the shepherds “went in haste” to visit the holy family. This echoes a passage from a bit earlier in Luke’s Gospel: having heard the news of her own pregnancy and that of Elizabeth, Mary, we are told, “went in haste” to the hill country of Judah to help her cousin. The spiritual truth that both of these pericopes disclose is that energy, verve, enthusiasm, and a sense of mission come precisely from a good that is perceived to be both objective and transcendent to the ego. If I might borrow the language of Dietrich von Hildebrand, it is only the objectively valuable—as opposed to the merely subjectively satisfying—that fills the mind and soul with passion and purpose. When the sense of objective and transcendent value is attenuated—as it necessarily is within the context of a secularist worldview—passion and mission fade away. John Henry Newman said that what gives a river verve and movement is precisely the firmness of its banks. When those banks are broken down, in the interest of a supposed freedom, the once energetic body of water spreads out into a great lazy lake. What we have in our secularist culture, which denies the transcendent good, is a subjectivism that gives rise to the “whatever” attitude. Toleration and self-assertion reign supreme; but no one goes anywhere in haste. Rather, we all rest on our individual air mattresses in the midst of the placid but tedious lake. The second word I want to emphasize is “astonished.” Luke tells us that those who heard the shepherds’ testimony were “astonished” at the news. The King James Version renders this as “they wondered at” the message. Wonder, amazement, and astonishment happen when the properly transcendent power breaks into our ordinary experience. The findings of the sciences delight and inform us, but they don’t astonish us, and the reason for this is that we are finally in control of the deliverances of the scientific method. We observe, we form hypotheses, we make experiments, and we draw conclusions. Again, this is all to the good, but it doesn’t produce amazement. Dorothy Day witnessed to the astonishing when she said, upon the birth of her first child, that she felt a gratitude so enormous that it would correspond to nothing or no one in this world. Mother Teresa was properly amazed when, on a lengthy train journey to Darjeeling, she heard a voice calling her to minister to the poorest of the poor. The apostles of Jesus fell into wonder when they saw, alive again, their master who had been crucified and buried. These are the most precious kinds of experiences that we can have, and if St. Augustine is right, they alone can satisfy the deepest longing of the heart. A secularist ideology—the worldview embraced by the “nones”—produces the clean, well-lighted space of what we can know and control. But it precludes true astonishment, and this leaves the soul impoverished. The final word from Luke upon which I’d like to reflect is “treasured.” The evangelist tells us that Mary “treasured these things, pondering upon them in her heart.” Newman said that Mary, precisely in this contemplative, ruminative frame of mind, is the model of all theology. I’d press it further. She is the real symbol of the Church in its entire function as the custodian of revelation. What is the Sistine Chapel? What is Notre Dame Cathedral? What is The Divine Comedy of Dante? What is the Summa contra gentiles of Thomas Aquinas? What are the sermons of John Chrysostom? What are the teachings of the great ecumenical councils? What is the liturgy in all of its complexity and beauty? These are all means by which the Church stubbornly, century in and century out, treasures the astonishing events of God’s self-manifestation. Up and down the ages, the Church ponders what God has done so that the memory of these mighty deeds might never be lost. As such, she performs an indispensable service on behalf of the world—though the world might not have any sense of it. She keeps holding up the light against the darkness. So to the “nones” and to those who are tempted to move into secularism, I say, don’t float on the lazy lake; rather, go in haste! Don’t settle for something less than astonishment; be amazed! Don’t fall into spiritual amnesia; treasure!
By: Bishop Robert Barron
MoreAs a radio reporter, I had covered everything from Presidential visits to prison riots, trying to find the lasting meaning behind the news events of the day. It could be exciting, but also heartbreaking—serving as a witness to history. It was a job that I had loved from the very beginning, and I found it tough to let go of my work each day and ease back into life on the home front. It seemed as if there were always stories begging to be covered, and I was on a continual quest to discover the story that would lead to the next award—a recognition that would fill the hole within my heart—the God-shaped hole that only the Almighty could close and bring me true healing. One of the final stories I covered as a secular news reporter was a seemingly simple feature about a service project at a nursing home. It would never make the national news, but it ended up profoundly changing my life in a way that I could not have anticipated. A group of teenagers had been recruited to create a garden at the nursing home. The teens had experienced their share of troubles, and the organizer of the project thought that the physical labor might do their souls some good. The surprising element in this tale was how enthusiastic these young people were to create this garden. They went well beyond the requirements of the assignment, fashioning a floral masterpiece, complete with a waterfall. The garden proved to be an oasis of serenity for the senior citizens at the facility. One resident who was largely uncommunicative had been touched by the kindness of these strangers, and her corner of the world became more beautiful. It occurred to me that these teenagers had overcome their personal struggles and had fulfilled the vision that God had intended. The situation made me think if I was living the life that God intended? Ultimately, I left the world of secular broadcasting behind and began working for a non-profit dedicated to the needs of pregnant women and their children. Ironically, through podcasts, radio, and television interviews, I am still using my voice to bring attention to stories that sing of the power and promise of the human spirit. Speaking from experience, I can now say that life is, in fact, more beautiful when I allow the Master Gardener, the Creator of all things, to plan out my days. I have surrendered to Him and found a peace I never dreamed possible. I invite you to turn to Him and ask Him to direct your path. Once you let the Lord into the secret garden that lies deep within your heart, you would be surprised by the roses you find there.
By: Maria V. Gallagher
MoreAll that we have is a gift from Above, but ever thought what God intended when He gave it to you? By the time I was born as the youngest of three boys, my family was Christian but non-practicing. My parents weren’t Catholic to start with, so on my first day as a freshman at Providence Catholic High School, I remember being scared to death because I had never met a priest or a religious sister. I did not know the first thing about the Catholic Mass but was told to attend all Masses at school. I had to take theology courses, too, but since my intention of going there was their baseball program, I didn’t mind. Searching for Something… As a 14-year-old, one of my biggest fears was being embarrassed in front of my peers–that I’d be asked the most basic question of the faith and be unable to answer. But Sister Margaret, who taught us freshman theology, never put me on the spot. One day after class, she waited at the doorway for me. I had every intention of walking right by, but she stopped me, looked into my eyes, and said: “Burke, you're searching for something.” I tried to walk away, but again she stopped me and said: “Read this.” She gave me my first Bible. That evening, after my baseball practice, homework, and dinner, I went to my room, shut the doors, and started reading the gospel of Matthew from the Bible. It really intrigued me in such a way that this became a habit. Gradually, theology became one of my favorite classes. During the all-school Masses, I'd watch my friends go for Communion and be curious about their reverence for this piece of bread they were receiving. On one of our junior retreats, during the final day of Mass, I had a profound encounter with the Eucharist that made me realize the power of God within me. The priest gathered us around the altar for the Consecration and Communion; I'd never been that close to the altar. During Communion, the priest came to each of us with the Eucharist; I didn’t know what to do. As he approached me and said: “The body of Christ,” my intention was to tell him that I'm not Catholic. But as I opened my mouth, he placed the Consecrated Host on my tongue. I felt at that moment the power of God going through my entire body. Though I now know that for an unbaptized person–for that matter, even a baptized person who doesn’t believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist–it isn’t right to receive the Eucharist, the circumstances were such that I received my first Communion by accident! This incident changed my life in profound ways; I started off by studying more about the faith, and by the time I moved to Mississippi, I had become a Catholic who could receive Christ for real every day. The Ebb and Flow Baseball was going well, and the team was often ranked nationally. During my senior year, when I got into the zone, I hit a grand slam which got us to the College World Series. I was named the Most Valuable Player of that tournament. But a couple of errors in the following three games scrapped it all. During the World Series Major League Draft, eight of my teammates were drafted, but my phone remained silent. I was crushed. I came home not knowing what to do. A couple of weeks later, my former high school baseball coach who had become a coach for the Chicago White Sox called and told me about the tryout to play professional baseball. That went well for me, as the next day, I signed a contract with the White Sox. But it didn't go as I had planned. At the end of the season, they said: “Burke, you do everything well and nothing great, we're looking for greatness.” They didn't renew my contract. I kept on trying for a while, but finally, I had to face the fact that it was over. I was 23 years old with just a degree in Math. Someone mentioned that there was a possible career in actuarial science, so I got a job and made a lot of money. But the stress was so low that it got boring, so I quit my job. After completing my Master's from Ohio University, I landed a job with the Kane County Cougars, a minor league baseball team. After four years, I had two job offers on the table–two dream jobs in baseball at the same time! I had just started dating Stephanie, who I'd met at the local church. One night, we were out for dinner and as we were leaving the restaurant, she said: “Let's stop by the Church for Eucharistic Adoration.” Although I had been Catholic for at least eight or nine years, I had never heard of Eucharistic Adoration. She explained that we would be spending an hour of quiet prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. There, I realized that in silence, we encounter God. We started to go every Tuesday night for an hour of Adoration, and I went from being afraid of silence to craving for silence. It became the most peaceful hour of my week. And in my heart, priesthood kept rising to the surface. It was like God was asking me to be a priest; a gentle invitation over and over. My family members, friends, and even complete strangers started coming to me saying they thought I would make a good priest. I felt that the Holy Spirit was working both internally and externally. So, I talked to Stephanie, and she told me that if that was my call, I had to follow it. I had every intention of going to the seminary for a year and then returning to Stephanie. But as I walked through the doors of the seminary, I felt this peace that never went away. It was during May of ‘98, the end of my first year of seminary, when I received a call from my dad asking to go home immediately because my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer, which had spread to the brain and liver. I dropped everything and went home. It was stage four. Though we kept hoping, two months later, she collapsed into my arms while watching television. It was horrific. As I looked out the window and saw my mom's car in the driveway, I imagined my mother coming face-to-face with God. God was not asking her about the kind of car she drove or how much money she made, but instead, something more fundamental, like: “Did you love the Lord your God with your whole heart, mind, and soul, and love your neighbor as yourself?” My mother, even though she wasn't a churchgoer, had taught us about God’s love. Better than Ever I went through a crisis of faith. I even wondered if there was life after death. I was angry with God for taking away the most important person in my life, but as it turned out, God saw me through that. I stayed and was ordained a priest. I thank God that I never made it to the major leagues because the joy and peace that I've experienced as a priest are far beyond anything that I had ever experienced on the baseball field. I have not only been the Catholic chaplain for the Chicago Cubs, but I have also established Catholic sports camps, which are now expanding. It's just one way God allowed me to assimilate what I love in sports and bring it into my ministry. God gives us gifts for a reason, and he wishes for us to use those gifts for His glory, in ways that we never imagined.
By: Father Burke Masters
MoreI had to finally accept that my singing was terrible, but I was not ready to give up, not yet… “If God calls you to be a religious sister, He will give you what you need to become one!” This was one of the vaguest pieces of advice I received before becoming a postulant in the Dominican Sisters of Mary Immaculate Province. However, it proved to be the most practical advice in the first year of my religious life when I encountered a great challenge—my singing voice. Of course, I can Sing! I entered the convent thinking and believing that I had a beautiful voice; a voice that I could use to praise God. And I did use it to participate in the reverent worship that took place daily in the convent’s chapel. I sang the hymns and recited the divine office with all my being and of course, with all of my strength and volume. I thought that I pleased God and impressed everyone during our common prayer time. However, two weeks into the postulancy, my postulant classmate, Phi, revealed to me the painful truth that I cannot sing. With admirable courage, Phi put her hand on my shoulder and sincerely asked me one day: “Do you know that you sing flat?” Although I had taken a music appreciation class in college and had a sense of what Phi meant, I brazened myself: “What is flat?” “You know, it is when your voice goes off key and you cannot sing higher…” Phi tried to explain. Embarrassed, I pretended not to understand her. “I don’t know what you mean.” I walked away from her thinking that she must be jealous of my voice. But this disillusionment did not last very long. One novice sister tactfully dropped a hint one evening before vespers without speaking directly about me: “What strange noise there is in the chapel these past few days!” I felt conscious of her words, but still, I did not accept the truth. My pride clouded my mind. However, another postulant, Karen, encouraged me: “If you can sing, sing loudly. If you can’t sing, sing twice as loud so as to get even with God.” I followed her advice and sang even louder than before to get even with God for not gifting me a lovely singing voice. My community was tortured every time I was in the chapel. What if You Can’t? It was only when I was offered voice lessons instead of the desired piano lessons like the other postulants that I came to the full realization of the truth—I must have sung horribly to have merited these lessons. My pride was deflated. I was dejected. Then, I remembered the advice that was given to me: “If God calls you to be a religious sister, He will give you what you need to become one!” In tears and embarrassment, I went to the chapel and told the Lord that I needed a singing voice good enough to offer Him praises without doing harm to the sisters’ eardrums. I added a twist to this request though—that it would also be a sign of my vocation as a Dominican sister if I could also cantor at the community’s Sunday Mass. God met my request and challenge. But of course, He did not instantly grant me a miracle without having me sweat for it. That would totally spoil me! Yet like an excellent father, He allowed me to experience the pain of voice training and to persevere in daily practice. He also gave me what I needed, namely, time and space for voice lessons and a dedicated and patient voice teacher, Sister Anna Pauline. Through those weekly and rigorous private voice lessons, I gradually made improvements. At the end of the sixth month, I was asked to cantor at the community’s Mass and many times afterward. I will Keep on…Singing However, the definitive affirmation of my vocation as a Dominican sister came as a delightful surprise one day when I was teaching a religion class. While most of my kindergarten students were sitting quietly and listening attentively to my retelling of the story of the Good Shepherd, many were antsy and distracted. I decided to draw their attention to this loving story, so I sang the song instead. Gabby, who was stretching herself out on the classroom rug a little far off from the rest of her classmates, suddenly exclaimed: “Sister, you have a beautiful voice!” Then she moved closer to me. Somehow, my singing captured Gabby’s attention and the rest of the class that day. So, for the rest of my years as an elementary religion teacher, I used that God-given voice to teach my students about God’s love. I am sure that God gave me a singing voice not to puff up my pride but to aid me in my service of His kingdom. My vocation is thus affirmed. If God calls you to any vocation, be assured that He will give you whatever you need—even a singing voice.
By: Sister Theresa Joseph Nguyen, O.P.
MoreLearning to drive was a repeated big hurdle in my life. This incident changed that for me! Ten years ago, God connected me with my husband-to-be for the first time. I was living in Sri Lanka at the time while he lived in Australia. Filled with the new energy that falling in love brings, I signed up with a driving school to prepare for driving in ‘the land down under’ once I moved there. Having never driven before, I was anxious yet determined, and by the grace of God, I obtained my driving license on the first attempt. Starting Small Soon after moving to Australia, I signed up with a local driving school and purchased a second-hand car to keep up the practice. The first mistake I made was to let my husband attempt to teach me. You can well imagine how that turned out! My own fears kept pulling me back no matter how much I learnt. I would do alright until a car drove up behind me and this would make me nervous, as though I was under scrutiny and in its way—a very illogical fear for someone in their late twenties. Taking lessons from a driving instructor didn’t help either. I became hesitant to practice and my car slowly gathered dust while I tried to convince myself that driving was not for me. To get to work and back, I took two buses and a train each way but could not bring myself to drive. I sold my car. Reluctant to Give Up This way of life was clearly not working for us, so I decided to try once more. It was now 2017 and I signed up with a new instructor. There seemed to be some improvement. However, during my first driving test, it was all butterflies once more. My instructor was quite cross, and while the examiner left to assess my score, she said I would certainly fail. Disappointed and with a heavy heart, I walked into the driving center to receive the verdict. The examiner said that I had passed! Shocked and in disbelief, I thanked God with all my heart. My husband was overjoyed as well, and based on my newfound confidence, we purchased a second-hand car again, very hopeful that it was going to work this time around. It started well and then slowly but surely, it all started creeping back in—the nervousness, the fear, the hesitation. A little over six months, and I had lost all confidence again. I sold my car. My patient husband believed I wasn’t doing justice to my abilities, so he not only prayed for me but also kept believing in me even when I couldn’t find the courage to. Knock Knock Years rolled on…In 2020, we were participating in an online inner-healing service. The moving service was nearing its end, and I hadn’t felt anything specifically until then. It must have been my husband’s prayers that moved Heaven for when the priest was praying for healing of inner wounds, I had a vivid memory of playing bumper cars in a theme park. I must have been about six years old and had been very eager to try this out. Picking out a little pink car, I hopped in and was happily driving it when suddenly, I felt the car behind bump into mine repeatedly. Although this was part of the game, I felt attacked and now in that present moment, reliving that gripping fear and uneasiness which was exactly how I felt while driving! I remember being anxious to have my father get me out of there as soon as possible. This was a memory that hadn’t occurred to me even once in all those years since the incident. Our Lord Jesus Christ was healing me of the root cause of the problem. It was also a profound statement to me that God our Father had created me with the ability to drive, which is what I had been questioning constantly. Eager to get back on the road, I drove a long way with my husband and the liberation was evident. I had improved immensely and was no longer bothered by the car right behind me. One would think this was the final jolt I needed to turn our life around. Incorrigible as I was, and since my driving practice was not persistent, I was still not at my best. With our newborn filling up a large part of my life, my priorities had shifted. The little city apartment we lived in was unsuitable for raising our little one. A suburban life would be more in line with the upbringing we wished to provide him with, and we could make this move if I could drive around with ease. Santo Niño to the Rescue My mother-in-law was visiting us at the time. An ardent devotee of the Infant Jesus of Prague, she gave me a Novena to the Infant Jesus, and I said the prayer daily, pleading for a miracle. One first Friday soon after completing the Novena, we were looking for a church to celebrate Holy Mass in honor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. All the churches we visited were closed until we finally arrived at one that was not only open but celebrating the feast of Santo Niño* (Holy Child). The special Holy Mass and celebrations were filled with reverence and love for the child Jesus. The end of the celebration was marked by the choir playing a powerful, resounding drumbeat that filled the atmosphere. Every strike of that drum pierced my soul and I felt all those fears take flight. A new courage and hope took its place. My confidence no longer being in my own abilities, but in what Jesus could do within me. God’s steadfast love had been running after me in spite of my shortcomings and it was about time I surrendered all to Him. Completing a new set of lessons with a driving instructor, we packed up and moved to the suburbs. My father and father-in-law helped me with ironing out the last few kinks in my driving and my mother prayed for me. Fast forward seven years since obtaining a license; I am now driving daily with ease. Cruising along a five-lane stretch of the freeway at 100 kilometers an hour is a constant reminder to me of the unfathomable power and mercy of our God. All glory, honor, and praise be to Jesus for taking the steering wheel and turning my family’s life around. “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” - Philippians 4:13 * The Santo Niño de Cebú is a miraculous image of the Infant Jesus venerated by the Filipino Catholic community
By: Michelle Harold
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