Lenten Reflection - part i

i was not weeping at the cross,

unlike the Mother of our Lord and

the women of Jerusalem.

They believed in Someone,

believed that Something would come to pass.

And i, pushing past the people,

grabbed the body, slippery in blood

and spittle from the scornful

unbelievers gathered round,

gnarled with a thousand whip lashes,

grabbed it,

screamed

"Where were You, God,

Where were You when it mattered most?"

and ended with a cry

primitive, primeval, an ache beyond words,

so did the Christ cry out with me.

The Client - Enemy or Best Friend?

(pix credits here)

Recalling the words of my earliest boss,

"the client is your worst enemy" he would warn me, emphasising enemy. Then he would illustrate with examples of the client turning on us, backstabbing, complaining, even suing us for things going wrong later on.

At some level, I did understand that clients could be capable of making our lives as lawyers pretty darn miserable, not to mention, be the source of all kinds of danger, from petty complaints to negligence lawsuits.

On the other hand, can one regard this fee paying client as one's best friend? That wouldn't be correct either, since professionalism carries with it, as I have learned the hard way, a certain distance and also, well, from a more practical point of view, clients are more often than not nasty rather than nice, demanding rather than understanding. Not exactly the best place to breed anything more than courtesy

For me, it is hard to reconcile the concept of the client being one's worst enemy with his being the person paying the (legal) fees and doing one's best for this enemy. To begin with this starting block would create unnecessary stress and worry. There is a middle ground between enemy and best friend which I am finding day by day. I found instead that one regards clients as people to whom a duty is owed and whose expectations need to be managed (i.e. reality checks need to be given where necessary, the last I know, I didn't have a magic wand ready to grant all the heart's desires). That detachment is part of making better judgment calls and I dare say, an improved level of service.

Accepting the Unacceptable

I can't believe it's been six (6) years already, and I thought the void you left behind was already filled up.

No, I got betrayed and let down - and as I sit here, remembering alternating moments between the times spent together and that one singular moment of heartbreaking honesty (and you were honourable enough to tell me the truth, and because of that, you didn't lose my respect, no not my affection either although we both know something has changed forever)

Haven't seen you since, first - we weren't ready, next it became lots of excuses and third, it became being into our own busy lives.

We're still friends, I'd like to think. And no matter what or where you go, always a special place in my prayers for you, whatever you've told me and your doubts.

...

Thinking of someone else too. Why does it always come down to this? The good and happy times fade into this ache and dull emptiness. And for once in a way, so bitter that I find it hard to smile.

Betrayed. Disappointed. Alone. And I wonder what this all means. Forgiveness takes a long time, a very very long time, and talking about reconciliation, if there is no real change of heart or thinking or approach, why even bother?

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.