Chasing after Bubbles

She's chasing after bubbles,

floating by so prettily, lighter than the air,

shimmery transparent orbs

a million blended shades of purple pink and blue on the edges,

She's going to catch those bubbles and

keep them safe and round in her chubby palms.

But the closer she gets, the sooner it pops,

one by one by one,

it's a little upsetting, but she'll keep on trying,

jogs a bit and then giggles a lot

and the sun winks down at her,

bouncing off a tiny bubble that first

escaped her view,

she winks back and reaches out

and sees it disappear.

*pic credits here*

Prayer - Loving from a distance

(the usual drill - credits for the pix here)

There will be times when others hurt us so badly that we're left reeling in shock,

flailing about and struggling to come to terms with what happened.

And the commandment to love seems nothing more than an impossible mockery,

something beyond our capabilities. We scream out for justice. Vengeance.

Or sit in a stunned silence, unable to respond, numb to everything.

It is in those times that I've found, prayer is loving such people from a distance.

In time, through this prayer, although the distance remains, we find forgiveness and peace.

We find that loving is not an impossible task, simply that we need to draw upon God to open our hearts

and His infinite source and supply of love. He supplies the grace, it is for us to yield to Him.

The painful feelings and memories. will be there, but they are never the end of the matter.

What is forgiveness then but another facet of love?

And forgiveness, I have found, is not just my matter,

but His, all in all.

Christmas Reflection 2011

*picture credits here*

It has been a very busy Advent for me, the kind that sets off and starts out with hustle and much more bustle :-

1. on the work front - changes in my job scope and a fresh set of challenges;

2. CG, wrapping up for 2011 and preparing for 2012, and sending off one of our dear brothers in Christ, George;

3. tidying up the house here in KD and preparing for homecoming as my aunt, uncle and cousins come back for a Christmas visit.

...

and preparing to meet the Christ child, somehow, at the back of my heart and mind, underneath all this running around and chaos. Year after year, I know it:-

the angel appears, Mary says Yes, Jesus is born, the angels sing, the shepherds come and worship, then the 3 wise men and then Christ is presented to Simeon ... I can recite these events in quick succession.

But what does it all mean? I've spent very little time thinking about this, and even less praying about this. Instead, I've accepted this sequence of events - one leading to another - to finally end on the Cross and the Resurrection 3 days after.

And so I wait, as I have been told, Advent is the season to wait for Christ's birth and His coming as a child. In darker moments, I wonder what exactly I am waiting for, sorely tempted to bury myself in the restless rush of presents, parties, food, festive fun. Or work, in a more sadistic frame of mind.

Until one fine day, when dried and drained out by all the giving giving giving that everyone has demanded so far, I just sit in silence, all by myself before the Blessed Sacrament. Nursing the remnants of the flu, there's only my sniffling slightly and the quiet of the place. So much louder and more eloquent than any words anyone could say. I hear nothing else, but I leave with a sense of peace and a comforted heart. No answers, but just that.

I was thinking : let me be content with that then. Then, 2 days later, circling a parking lot in vain for a space, deep within me, a sense of God's love suffusing within my heart. The words of Isaiah 43 echo - that He regards me as precious, and has given people in exchange for me, and nations in return for my life. Suddenly, His love overwhelmed me and I realised how little I understood its depth and breadth. Over mountains, into seas of flames, He would pursue me, calling out my name over and over till He was hoarse and in the end, die for me.

In this discovery of love did I enter into the scene at the manger. Tentatively, shyly (here I was year in, year out, calling myself a believing, practising Catholic and yet not appreciating this miracle), I came forward.

The Blessed Virgin smiled at me warmly. She beckoned me to come closer and invited me, "Here, touch his cheeks". So I gently placed my hands on the Christchild's cheeks, this newborn. Divine. And yet in that moment, so vulnerable. I felt my breath lost in the beauty of the moment, the sheer hopefulness. New life began here - at this very point and both Mother Mary and Christ invited me in.

I could read the Christmas story over and over again, but until I myself came in and saw Him there, it was always something outside of me, the wrapping on a present I paid scarce attention to. But now I know, the birth of Christ is the gift itself.

Wishing all of you a truly blessed Christmas and that may you experience His love more and more in the coming year.

Welcoming the Christ child

O Come O come Emmanuel - welcoming the Christ child.

When I consider the state of my heart and mind, and my relations with others, I cannot help but compare and see the distinct similarities with a manger filled with animals mooing and bleating and the smell of dung and heat. And yet, of all places He could be born in, the Christ child was born there - giving me hope that despite all this, He is there waiting to come into this world, into my messy world.

December's always been the time of year when I take stock of my life and see where I've gone before and where I have yet to go. I enjoy the spiritual spring-cleaning that the Advent pentitential service helps me to do. In so many ways, sin has become less about not doing wrong than recognising patterns in my life which do not meet the mark of Christ and of asking for His mercy in areas where I struggle greatly in. He's not keeping score, but like the best parents any of us could ever ask for, He is encouraging me to take those baby steps into becoming more like Him.

All that we have

"Sometimes the road may be lonesome,
Often we may lose our way,
But take courage and always remember,
Love isn't just for a day"

The first Yes we owe to would be to God, and it is to this Yes that i return to when things are rough, and i don't understand or seem able to cope with whatever's swirling about me and i feel all alone.
Comforted by His love and assurances, i come to realise that much as i trust Him more than i trust myself, He is inviting me to learn to trust myself as a beloved of His, gifted, empowered, enabled. It doesn't mean i won't make mistakes along the way, but it does mean, that no matter the mistake or wrong turns i make, with Him in me and by my side, i can pick myself up and go back on the path and learn from Him.

Lately, i've been reflecting on this a lot - Matthew 11 :29 as i m struck by the gentleness and humility of Christ's heart and i sense a calling to imitate those qualities in my work and ministry efforts. Much i have to learn from those around me, but above all, my love is for God and His truth.

'Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.'

A cynic is a failed idealist

(taken from here)

A blog post after a long, long time - and inspired by Fr Simon's homily last Sunday :-
A cynic is failed idealist.

Thinking out loud here, as a former idealist (not a failed one, i would hope), it's probably because it's frightening to let go of all those impressions and illusions that one holds dear about people and the things around us. So when things go wrong and people fail to measure up, it's a lot easier to descend into cynicism and say nothing works at all and everything's in a mess and why bother trying anyway because in the end, things will just turn ugly anyhow.

It takes a lot more courage to reach out of that Pollyanna-like state *sunshine roses and all things sweet* to move into realism which is not necessarily something dark, grim but one that accepts and acknowledges the good and the bad in life. That to me is living with grace, to take both, to give thanks in both and to not lose hold on a spirit that wills to make not just my life, but the lives of the people around me that little bit better.

And when you're so bitter and so cynical - as the poster says, chances are good, you want something so bad and you're not getting it and so you give up and sink into this state of being ... just because it's easier.

Family Tree - Matthew West

Except for the Vampire Diaries references, this song is super awesome, and it made me cry the first time I heard it on the radio.

For those who suffer the burdens of sins passed down from the family tree, take heart that God has a plan for all of us and that He loves us. When you first realise it, you will be filled with resentment and yet, beyond that resentment, is a calling to overcome and prevail, and to put the past in its proper place. There will be many tears and recriminations, only our own flesh and blood has such power to destroy for such an extended period of time, with no let up seemingly. Strangers we can brush by, our friends perhaps a little less so. But the wounds our family inflicts stay for the longest time, til they become part of our personhood, woven into our stories, bright eyed indignation to muffled cries at night and an inchoate feeling of dissatisfaction and anger and unsettledness.

Even then, deep down, who has not truly desired leaving a legacy that is meaningful? To bring about new life? That natural instinct springs from deep within us, finding ways to override all that disappointment and failures before. And that instinct can only find its complete fulfilment in Christ, who first leads us to realising that there is a bigger life ahead,a truer, deeper and much more lovely life that begins in forgiveness.

Sometimes i think - those who hurt us, provide the wood for us us to build a bridge to understanding others better. Each time we seek to forgive, we nail the pieces of wood together and make them sturdy, something constructive, not just ugly pieces of driftwood, useless and full of splinters.