LENT 1 ~ IN THE HEART OF GOD
My greatest happiness is to be before the Blessed Sacrament , where my heart is, as it were, in Its centre. ~ St Margaret Mary Alacoque
I have been looking forwards to Lent for a few weeks now. Like Christmas, Lent marks an especial time of inner quieting, a time when heaven grants me a singular strength to withdraw from the world and to place my heart into God’s, at Its very centre.
Where my journey will take me this year I know not, but no one is ever the same emerging from the time spent in God’s Heart.
LENT 2 ~ FOR ANOTHER
When each of us carries the cross that is now upon us for the sake of the other, then and only then will we find peace. ~ Sr. Kathryn J. Hermes, FSP, Prayer for Ukraine, Touching the Sunrise
LENT 3 ~ PUT YOUR HOUSE IN ORDER
If there is a verse that can strike terror in hearts, it is this one. I came across it twice yesterday and it was enough to make me beg God not to take my life. Still, I wasn’t quite sure if indeed it was as much a warning of impending death to me as it was to Hezekiah.
Today, pondering what to write in my daily Lenten reflection, put your house in order hovered close by. Out of a slight nervousness, I decided against writing about it. Sometime later, I belatedly realised that since I was on leave at home, I should recite the Divine Mercy Chaplet. As I recited the prayers, I asked God to give me His word and only His word for my post. And then, I sank my heart into my prayers for there was much to pray for. For Ukraine. For one of my children is facing a great test of faith and so are a number of other young people in this country. My job is still hanging in the balance. Another child of ours was sitting for national level exams. Two dear people had heart issues that required major surgery. A colleague from work was praying for a baby. Another person I had just come to know had just lost his baby in a tragic accident.
There was certainly a lot to keep me busy.
Praying the Chaplet, I was led to ponder the Final Wound of Christ – the Wound to His Sacred Heart. I thought of Longinus and what would have possessed him to thrust his spear into Christ’s body, in full view of a suffering Mother Mary and the apostles, all already in the depths of a grief that went beyond words.
Presently, I wiped away the tears that had pricked my eyes, recited the Conversion prayer and then, put away my Rosary. I leaned back, thinking some more about Longinus. As I did, I cast my gaze across spirit, trying to make out God’s word to me for today.
Put your house in order
I honestly couldn’t believe it. Not that again, I groaned. But this time I sensed a movement.
Put your house in order as a sign of thanksgiving
And just like that, it all made sense. A couple of days back, I had come across a post from the delightfully named blog, Sophia By the Sea, where the writer had written about a different kind of Lent – not one of deprivation but one of going out and really living life, drawing from that act of deliberate thankfulness blessings which could be offered up for all those in need of it.
For Ukraine
For people in power
For the poor
Put your house in order
God’s call to me to give thanks for the simple yet beautiful home He has gifted me. One which I love yet do not sufficiently give thanks for. A home to love and to rest in, to care for and to shelter my family in. The home that has held me close to its heart in my joys and in my sorrows, given me comfort and security and taught me lessons for life.
Put your house in order
In obedience and gratitude, I rose to my feet to give thanks to the God who loves me so much.
I mopped floors
put away laundry
wiped down windows and doors and tables and bedsteads
I put my house in order.
LENT 4 ~ THE GIFT OF PIERCING
So much has happened in these past few years, more so in the recent 7 months. Although I am not broken and crushed as I was last year, there is a deep weariness within me, for to me it has been so very long. Of late, I’ve often felt as if the light within me is dying.
Today, hearing of some work-related developments, the darkness inches a little closer.
But happening in tandem with that is something strange. Despite feeling the way I do, I’ve noticed in recent days that whenever I pray with heart and soul for others, my heart is pierced with an unusual sweetness. I’ve never experienced a piercing of this sort before, one that leaves my heart flooded with love for whoever I’ve prayed for – after I’ve prayed for them.
And when the moment folds into its petals, the world within me grows quiet, eased into trust once more.
Pierced, I rise strengthened. Nothing is too difficult anymore.
LENT 5 ~ LEAN AGAINST GOD
When our children were little, there were days when some suffering or another was upon them and they could not be quieted. Days when no amount of cajoling or tickling or the usually effective distractions worked. Such times called for only one thing. To wrap our arms about our child and to hold the wee one close against our hearts till the dark waves ebbed and eased away.
I am that little child today. Today, I go to lean against God’s great Heart, for myself and for those whom I pray for, drawing from it all the needed sustenance for mind, body and spirit.
To face the morrow, renewed in hope, courage and confidence.
LENT 6 ~ THE SEAS ARE STILLED
Troparion
Heavenly King, Consoler Spirit, Spirit of Truth, present everywhere and filling all things, treasure of all good and source of all life, come dwell in us, cleanse and save us, you who are All-Good.
This is my prayer for today. As I reach for it, I become aware of waves of anxiety coursing through me. Today, I number among thousands in my country who await a court ruling which will determine the next course of our lives. Whether a decision will be made today or not, today is nonetheless a significant marker in our professional journey.
The waves rise higher within me.
Heavenly King
Consoler Spirit
Spirit of Truth
I turn and face the waves. Lord, I pray, if these are from satan, take them away. But if they are wounds which I must bear, touch each one…
The words of my prayer have barely formed when I immediately sense the waves curl into mist and disappear.
And the seas within me still.
LENT 7 ~ BECAUSE YOU LOVED ME
In all your needs, trustfully have recourse to the divine Heart, and I am confident that our Lord will provide for your wants; but above all be very grateful for the many benefits He has bestowed on you. ~ St. Margaret Mary Alacoque
Yesterday’s court case was postponed. On another front, a very important meeting is to be held today to discuss a similar issue. I am not sure how that will go. But along comes my beloved St. Margaret Mary to give me the hope I need. And to gently cup my face and turn it towards the sun.
Be very grateful
Since last year, this has come to me over and over. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful. When others suffer, pray for them but above all, pray the prayer of lived gratefulness. For every loss you come to know, go beyond words, go home and embrace what you have been blessed with. Touch the wounds of others through your own gratitude.
Be very grateful
What else have I not been grateful for? Today, I look over my life, seeking areas gratitude has not touched. Immediately it comes. The trials and tribulations. The sorrows and pain. The grief, the tears. Those terrible valleys where streams of wounding-s flow undeterred.
Be very grateful
Where do I find the words for this gratitude, I wonder. How do I embrace in truth and sincerity this pain I never want again?
Once more, barely have the thoughts formed when I see an image flash before me.
Lean against the Heart of God.
And I do. And immediately come the words for the gratitude,
You blessed me with those wounds
Because You loved me.
LENT 8 ~ LEAVE IT WITH HIM
And when night comes, and you look back over the day and see how fragmentary everything has been, and how much you planned that has gone undone, and all the reasons you have to be embarrassed and ashamed: just take everything exactly as it is, put it in God’s hands and leave it with Him. ~ St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
LENT 9 ~ GOOD THINGS
The vine of words from today’s daily Readings and the Gospel give me so much strength because they take me to a place of hope.
God of Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob, blessed are You.
Help me, who am alone and have no help but You… (Esther C: 14)
In praying these words, I am praying the words of another woman who has gone before me, one who was also alone and at the edge of the cliff. Yet, she had left one arrow and it was recourse to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
…turn our mourning into gladness
and our sorrows into wholeness. ~ (Esther C: 25)
The words give me the liberty to pray for joy and healing, even if it is Lent. It tells me yet again that that God wants me to understand Lent differently this year – to seek the penance of true hope and heavenly joy after years of suffering.
When I called, You answered me;
You built up strength within me. ~ Psalm 138: 3
And knowing my faith will waver in the sea of unanswered prayers, the angels come early to lay within my mind the memories of times past when God has hastened to my side, feeding me and nourishing me for the journey ahead. Again, knowing of my present anxiousness, knowing that my days are spent scanning the skies for an answer, they gently tip before me the dew of Promise,
The LORD will complete what He has done for me… ~ Psalm 138: 8
As I pray, Someone watches me quietly. Just before I rise from my prayer, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob presses His word into my wearied waiting.
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will your heavenly Father give good things
to those who ask Him. ~ Matthew 7: 11
And so against the Heart of my God, I lean my own heart’s prayer,
Heavenly Father,
Give us good things
LENT 10 ~ TO THE HEART OF GOD
That prayer is most likely to pierce heaven which first pierces one’s own heart. ~ Thomas Watson
Early this morning, someone visited me in a profound dream. A sports superstar, one of the greats in his field. He lives on the other side of the world. His world and mine have never intersected and never will.
And yet in the purple darkness of a day just coming to life, it appears that he came to me in a pleading.
When dreams are dramatic yet leave no lasting mark on my soul, it is the sign to me that they mean nothing. But this one today, in the darkest hour before dawn, pierced my heart with its sadness and regret. A man in an invisible prison, held behind bars no one could see, asking for the impossible.
Many are the struggles of this human race, yet, the most public of them are seldom the hardest. Often, the crosses that bite the deepest constitute the most hidden of struggles. A man like this star, for whom money could buy almost anything, could certainly avail himself of any form of luxury or aid. But when success places one on the pedestal of worship and adulation, it can be hard to ask for help. It can be harder to even convince others that help is needed.
In a dream many years ago, I saw a white map of the world, suspended in the bluest skies above an old European city of whitewashed buildings and clean but deserted streets. In that dream, I was warned of a coming nameless terror. Later, St. Jude indicated to me that it was time to “leave my church” and to go to another of need. Pray for others, St. Jude had said to me. Then, today, comes this searing dream, this voiceless plea from a man who has seemingly everything, a man in a European country, a world away.
A dream come today perhaps to ask if I would pray for others as others have prayed for me. But more importantly I suspect, to first acknowledge my own sins and come clean before God, and then to pray for this man, icon of the world, yet as broken as any of us.
All the more I turn away – because to pray for this soul, I will have to pass through the portal of my own weaknesses. There is no pleasure in that. But at the very moment I make ready to flee, I recall something I read just the day before: that before any form of prayer is prayed, we need to first squarely face ourselves. No hiding behind excuses or distractions but to come clean to ourselves. If we can be honest with ourselves, only then can we open our own hearts to God. Only then can we reach out and give help where it is needed, exactly as it is needed.
And so I turn back to face myself. Then, I gather up my sins and go before the Heart of God. I reach into this Great Heart and leave them there. Finally, I lift up this man and into this same Heart, I place him and his needs as I have perceived them.
Still praying, a while later I realise that only the memory of the dream remains. The sadness is no more, not a trace.
It tells me that my work is done. We have both gone to the Heart of God.
LENT 11 ~ FREEING PRISONERS
Let the prisoners’ sighing come before You;
There’s a superior at work who has given me nothing but grief for almost 20 years. Even though there have been times when he has reluctantly acknowledged the quality of my work, the underlying current of tension remained. A man governed by jealousy, pride and love for money, several times he has crushed me to the point of tears, and many more times when he has filled me with an equally crushing rage and hatred for him. There were others who were wounded by similar blows but they were not as severe as the ones I endured because all my other colleagues were Muslims, like this man, and I suspect that made him hold back a little. I being the only Christian in the organization, received the full brunt of it. I cried a lot about it to God because I suffered, not only from his viciousness, but from my own rage too.
Then, one day at Mass, upset over something he had done, I saw the words, It is in his bloodline, appear in one of the Readings. That was when I realised that whatever it was that was making him this way came from very deep within, that it was likely intergenerational too. He might have needed a family tree healing prayer of some kind but honestly, I just couldn’t do it. That was beyond what I could manage.
Let the prisoners’ sighing come before You
One year, God suddenly let me know that this man was in fact a prisoner. Until that moment of illumination, I never saw it that way. All I saw was his capacity for heartlessness. But once I knew, I also realised that God was calling me to the impossible – to pray for this superior. It was something I struggled so hard to do but eventually, I began to pray for him. Each time though, I had to ask God for the prayer because I could not love this man enough to pray my own prayers.
And each time, God answered me.
Still, there was one that stood out and which I will never forget.
Replace his blood with Yours
That prayer was prayed many, many times over the years, through wounding-s and through times of tremulous peace between us. Many times too I took this man to the Heart of Jesus during Mass and during Adoration. There were times when the prayers came easy; often, I had to drag myself to it because I still could not get past my hurts and dislike of him. But over time, it became easier.
These past 2 years, I began to sense a change in him. He began to be more civil towards me. Still, the unease remained. Nonetheless, towards the end of last year, it was clear that he was trying to change and that brought some relief to me because I was tired out from walking on eggshells around him.
Just this afternoon, we had a brief conversation which made me see something about myself too. We had a virtual meeting and he told us that he had tested positive for Covid. Right after the meeting ended, I hurried to contact him to share a home remedy which I thought would help. He told his wife about it and then assured me he would give it a try. Our conversation ended with my comforting him,
Do not be afraid
It struck me then how far I’ve come. That I didn’t have to think about it before giving that remedy to him, that I didn’t have to persuade myself or even force myself to go to him.
Let the prisoners’ sighing come before You
with Your great power free those doomed to death.
I know I’m not the only one who prayed. My closest friends here and elsewhere in my life, have carried my cross and prayed very hard for this man, and it is bearing fruit – freeing both him and me.
Because as much as he was a prisoner, so was I too.
LENT 12 ~ WHEN WE CORRECT
Fathers must correct their sons if they are to improve, but if the sons are to actually improve, the corrections cannot be too burdensome. ~ Fr Raymond J. de Souza, Catholic Register
LENT 13 ~ REMEMBER HER APPLES
Then I heard the words, ‘I am glad you behaved like My true daughter. Be always merciful as I am merciful. Love everyone out of love for Me, even your greatest enemies, so that My mercy may be fully reflected in your heart.’ ~ St. Faustina Kowalska, Diary, Divine Mercy in My Soul, Entry: 1695
Last Sunday brought yet another early morn dream. I had dreamt of an old colleague from work. But unlike the other dream before it, this one did not move me in any tangible way. Whoever brought it just gently laid it before me and quietly stepped aside. In the dream, I was inside this colleague’s home which was made up of many, many small, square, clear-glass windows. In each window was some decoration or another, each one utterly pretty and exquisite.
But they were all mud-spattered. Interiorly, I was aware that the mud was rising in her home. While the woman was clearly upset about this, she was oddly more concerned that I would come to know what was happening to her and this agitated her. She was standing outside her home, trying to prevent people from informing me. And all the while, the mud was rising inside.
I awakened from the dream and went to my day. Mud is rarely a good thing to see, not even in dreams, certainly not in this one too. It was clear to me that if the dream meant anything, it was that trouble was headed my old friend’s way. Mud on her decorations likely pointed to troubles and loss of what was most dear to her – the things which money could buy, things on exhibition in her life.
I once loved this lady with all my heart and immensely enjoyed her company. She had a sharp tongue and we often got nicked, but it never mattered because she was always one who spoke the truth. The fact that she was never short of friends of all ages was a testimony to the goodness of her heart. When tragedy struck my life years before, she was my support in some ways and I loved her all the more for it.
Then, came a time when she began to sell her soul to money. With that, things began to change with her. She no longer valued marriage, children were an inconvenience. She used the power she had over so many others to undermine their relationship with their own spouses. She encouraged her friends to choose self and enjoyment over the caring for children. She advised abortions when babies came at “inconvenient times”. Then, she began to cheat in her work – she who had been so skilled and talented at it, with a clear gift to do what few could. But now, worshipping at the altar of money, her heart began to die and with that, our friendship too. She now stood against all that was sacred to me, especially that of marriage and family – which, for me, was the heart of life itself.
We soon had many disagreements because I could not allow her to do wrong and to get away with it. More than anything, in fighting her, in many ways, I think I was fighting for the dear soul I once knew and loved. Yet, knowing I was no longer a part of her circle, not only did she turn against me and begin to attack me, she influenced others to do the same too. The poison was clearly spreading.
For some years, I suffered immensely under the onslaughts of her attacks. They were vicious. They filled me with fear and loathing for work because it was there that I encountered her viciousness on an hourly basis. The attacks seemed like they would never end.
I prayed and prayed to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and to St. Joseph for a miracle. Often, I had little hope of one.
One day, though, that miracle happened. My colleague was unexpectedly transferred to another department and to another workplace. We were as shocked as she was. But there was no regret in me in her going. If anything, the relief was immense. The Sacred Heart of Jesus had saved me – and others too. When she left, much of the poison leeched out as well. After a time, the cracks at work were sealed back.
But this woman brought disharmony everywhere she went. Soon, stories from her new place of work drifted back to us. It seemed as if wherever she went, she sowed discord and brought out the worst in people. My friend in a managerial position at the new place suffered what we had gone through here, for there too my old colleague turned co-workers against the administration.
Mercifully, God soon intervened once more. Without warning, this lady took early retirement from work. I suspect more than a handful of souls were saved because of this.
Since she lived just a few houses away down my road, I often saw her but nothing remained of our friendship and nothing was kindled either. We were like strangers. I barely remember ever praying for her after that.
Then came this dream on my Sunday when I try to live in more thankfulness. Did God want me to pray for her? If so, why wasn’t the nudge… stronger?
Give me my prayer for her, Lord, I asked as obediently as I could, but with no great desire to pray either.
Not a stirring out of heaven.
I thought of the mud and of the worse thing it could signify. Please give her a happy death, Lord, I prayed quickly, wanting to get on with my chores.
Again, nothing moved.
What do I pray for, Lord?
At my sink, busy with the dishes, in the softest of movements, came an old, old memory, laid by the door of my spirit by an unseen hand. A memory of that time of terrible sorrow many years past, before my friend had changed. My child had been sick in hospital then and had refused all food. Then, one day, this colleague had come to visit. She had brought comfort and strength – and apples. My child who had refused solids somehow accepted the apples too, happily devouring apple after apple. Never before had even I tasted such delicious apples.
Standing at my sink, my hands soapy, my heart was now pierced by a sudden sweetness of love for my old friend. Where once stretched an arid barrenness of indifference, now in an instant was flooded through with a deep, deep love. Plunged into that love, my heart found an impossible prayer,
Lord, have mercy on her. Forgive her for all she has done.
Remember her apples, Lord, and have mercy on her.
LENT 14 ~ WORRY IS USELESS
Pray, hope and don’t worry. Worry is useless. Our Merciful Lord will listen to your prayer. ~ St. Pio
Today is one of those days when little things weigh a little more on my heart. There is a meeting I need to attend tomorrow which makes me nervous and anxious because I am not sure how it will turn out. There’s nothing I can do to prepare for it. I don’t even know what to pray for exactly. For all I know, things might go very well. But since I have always been one to borrow trouble from the coming day, I’m doing exactly that now – borrowing trouble.
Searching for a prayer, I told God to give me one that my heart needs, even if I didn’t know it myself. And I also asked that it come to me dramatically, like a lightning bolt or something, to assure me further that it was indeed from heaven and to also pierce through the gathering fog inside my heart.
Instead come these gentle, gentle words, tenderly spoken, by a man I know as my spiritual father.
Pray, hope and don’t worry. Worry is useless.
And then, he comforts me,
Our Merciful Lord will listen to your prayer.
LENT 15 ~ MOOR YOUR BOAT
March 18th has been a special day for many years now. This day brings to me a memory that says,
Let go, rest and let God lead.
Over and over, each year, I learn that lesson anew. This is one special day when I remember that I am trying too hard, or that I am in places where the Lord has not called me to. This is the day when I learn yet again that I must let go, rest and let God take over.
I learned that lesson once more today. Anxious over a meeting scheduled today, Padre Pio had come the previous day to remind me that worry takes me nowhere except out of God’s arms. Trying to lean against God’s heart was a little tough but my dearest friends here stepped in and prayed me to it. Like a fretting child comforted, I found the will to trust Him again.
And to let go.
This morning, the meeting and all that transpired gently unfurled. I had the distinct feeling of being on the outside looking in, seeing with my own eyes how the angels smoothened the bumps and cleared the path in ways I never could have. I knew then the feeling that every beloved child knows well, the comforting knowledge that you are loved and that Someone is there to take care of you and to keep you safe from harm.
I know it’s not always possible to have all our days look like this. Grief and sorrow, struggles and hardship, must all come in their time, for a life lived in God’s heart is a life of seasons. To move forward down the road He has carved out for us, we must meet each season as it comes, not run away from it, tucking into our hearts each lesson learned along the way.
Today’s lesson was of trust.
And of knowing there are places along the shores of life where we must moor our boats and rest from toil.
LENT 16 ~ MY SILENT HELP
Truly, I doubt not that the angels, wondering and adoring, came thronging in countless multitudes to that poor workshop to admire the humility of him who guarded that dear and divine child, and labored at his carpenter’s trade to support the son and the mother who were committed to his care. ~ St. Francis de Sales on St. Joseph
Today, I remember the man who watched over me silently, who is a mere prayer away. I came to know St. Joseph only in recent years. Slightly more than a decade ago, I rediscovered my faith and began the practice of the Catholic tradition of reciting special novenas in honour of the months of the year and in honour of special saints. It was then that I learned that March was the St. Joseph month, in honour of his feast day on March 19th. I found the novena recited in his honour and I prayed it diligently for the 9 days.
It was then that I learned that he was called the Discerner of Dreams. And that he was also invoked for needs connected to work and jobs.
Since then, I’ve sought his hand to make sense of dreams. I’ve prayed to him desperately when faced with work struggles. Each time, I believe he answered – though not always as I wished – because St. Joseph does the will of God, not mine.
Several years back, before I formed an affection for this saint, an Irish member of a forum mentioned how prayer had resolved work problems involving 3 people on his team. Something about that post moved me and I reached out to that forum member. A short while later, this person contacted me and told me he had a strong feeling that I needed to seek St. Joseph’s intervention. He gave me a prayer and it has been one I’ve turned to time and again.
That forum member has now become a dear, dear friend. He has had my back many times since and there’s nothing I would not do for him and his family. And today, I realise something I never saw before: St. Joseph had brought me a friend.
As the sun sets in a bed of tangerines and purples, I think of that silent, humble man who worked hard for his little family, pondering and praying in silence and in peace. Who never hesitated to act in order to protect. He whose heart was always in God’s that he heard even the softest whisper of heaven.
Earthly father of Jesus. Miracle Worker. Discerner of dreams.
Finder of friends. Maker of friendships.
Beloved by angels.
My silent help.
LENT 17 ~ A BETTER SUNDAY
For some time now, I’ve been trying to make my Sunday one of deep thankfulness, even as I cook and do home chores, to sink myself into gratitude for all God has given me. This Sunday was no different. After such an eventful week, I looked forward to a quiet Sunday at home with blue skies lit by the sun and the breezes in joyful mirth.
Instead, I had to go in to work for a short while. I took it in stride, figuring that I would be in and out in no time. Then, came a call and the person at the other end stuck a knife into me. And that was the end of Thankful Sunday.
As far as hurts go, honestly, this was a very small one, but for some reason, the pain grew and grew into a tree. I said all the prayers which worked so wonderfully for me before and called upon St. Joseph too – but none of the previous miracles came to life again. I was puzzled but did not leave heaven’s door either. I had to know why this was happening.
Heaven did answer my questions – by bringing me news of another woman’s workplace suffering. I did not know this lady personally but as she told me about how she was abused by those whom she cared and looked out for, her suffering hurt me so much. So much of it mirrored my own experiences here, yet hers had reached pits far deeper than mine.
Desperate to do something for her that would alleviate this terrible sadness, I told her I would keep all her tears in my heart and take them to God. I didn’t know if that helped her but she continued to personally tell me of the many things she had to endure at work. As she spoke, I saw that apart from the similarity in pain, the bridge between us was that we both sought God through our different faiths, she a Muslim, I a Christian.
All through this, my own hurt stubbornly remained before me. Even as I saw how much more this woman suffered compared to the nick I received today, it did not reduce my pain – and I could not understand why.
It also did not make sense to me why God would allow this when I had sought to give Him nothing but thanksgiving this Sunday.
Some hours later, I saw that my newfound suffering friend had become cheery, now sharing bits and pieces of sunshine where there had only been pain before. I also realised that while the memory of my own hurt remained, the sting had gone. Curious, I reflected upon this development.
Then, in my mind suddenly formed this story from the Bible, about how Jesus had cured a woman on the Sabbath,
This daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has bound for eighteen years now, ought she not to have been set free on the Sabbath day from this bondage?
That was when it all came together. God had allowed a hurt to pierce me this Sunday morn so that I would reach out and offer some comfort to another wounded soul. A necessary wounding to help someone else rise from sorrow and go on to hope.
As I pondered this, Someone’s words swept across my heart,
A better Sunday
LENT 18 ~ HE WILL GIVE STRENGTH
As I was about to receive Holy Communion, our Lord told me that He would come Himself to imprint on my heart the mystical life which He leads in the Holy Eucharist, a life entirely hidden and annihilated in the eyes of men, a life of sacrifice and seeming inactivity. He added that He would Himself give me the strength to do what He required of me. ~ St. Margaret Mary Alacoque
Today comes this quote from a saint who has become my work and study companion. She comes just after I prayed for strength to make it through the mountains and deserts, the hills and the valleys, the ups and downs of life.
He will give me strength
I ask this of heaven for all of us here, for those whom I love and hold in my heart, young and old. We all have our crosses and some days, they will weigh more than other days, perhaps asking more than we can give.
May He Himself then come, and give us all the strength to do what He asks of us.
LENT 19 ~ HOW OFTEN?
“Lord, if my brother sins against me,
how often must I forgive him?
As many as seven times?”
Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times. ~ Matthew 18: 21 – 22
LENT 20 ~ GRIEF TO JOY
One major problem is resolved today even without the win of a court case to help us. My heart is filled with a deep peace and serenity to see the joy in other hearts. For the confirmation of the good news to come on a Wednesday, a day I dedicate to St. Joseph, means a lot to me. It says to me that St. Joseph heard a mother’s plea.
Looking back over our journey these past few months especially, something stands out – after struggles, consolation comes, but it lasts for short time before another struggle looms bigger. I often felt as if we needed to ask for grace and strength and hope – every few days. It puzzled me why grace didn’t seem to last very long. Often I wondered if it meant that I wasn’t being grateful enough or if I was blind and deaf to what God had so kindly laid out for me.
While it is all that as well, it came to me today that perhaps this is what it feels like when it gets closer to a summit. When the path gets steeper towards the end, consolation gets replaced by a new need ever so often, making us seek new light from heaven just as soon as we have been comforted.
I may never know the answer to it. In some ways today, it matters not either. As the eastern skies burst into a blaze of silvery orange, I know that in this one grief of ours, the old words I heard one still dawn 14 years ago, Sorrow before joy, has come true.
Grief has indeed become joy.
LENT 21 ~ RELY ENTIRELY
Rely entirely on God with perfect confidence in His goodness, which never forsakes those who, distrusting themselves, hope in Him. ~ St. Margaret Mary Alacoque
LENT 22 ~ KEY TO THE ANTECHAMBER
Justice comes before charity. ~ St. John XXIII
Something has been on my heart for a while now. The Biblical sifting of the wheat from the chaff. Like many others, I too see the time of now is the time of this great sifting. Perhaps we are not yet at the point of the Great Feast, but something is definitely in motion now. Who will be allowed into the Great Feast, and who will have the door closed against them. A recent word from heaven to someone said,
I am not coming as a Child but as a Power, with the energy of Resurrection. Those who see Me will be those who have My desire in their hearts and wish for a world of justice. This is how I will arrive, to make right what no longer searches for God and for faith that does not function. Be wary, ye whose mission has been division and whose self-righteousness was conceived by hell. Few who view themselves as saviors will have the eyes to see Me in towers of brightness that will split this night.
Those who wish for a world of justice.
The word justice moves me where others have not. The angels who come to do the work of sifting will look for justice? I understand that it will not be in the human sense of the word but as God willed it. But why justice, I wonder.
Because Justice comes before charity.
Because there are times when it is easier to give of ourselves in various ways than to fight for justice? We all want justice and I believe a great many will do what they can to see righteous justice served. But when justice asks that we step into the open and make clear our stand knowing fully well that we might be stoned for it, will we still choose justice?
Searching my spirit for answer, this instead comes,
To enter the Antechamber of the Great Feast, Justice is the key.
LENT 23 ~ IN THE EVENING OF LIFE
Evening eventually comes for all, and is welcomed by those who have borne the burden and heat of a long day … in the vineyard of the Lord. ~ Fr Raymond J. de Souza, Catholic Register
LENT 24 ~ UNFURL THE SAILS
Unfurl the sails, and let God steer us where He will. ~ St. Bede the Venerable
LENT 25 ~ COMING DAWN
God will help it at the break of dawn ~ Psalm 46: 6
How many times has this verse from the Psalms lifted me to hope, if not joy itself. Even if it were long in coming true, it has never disappointed.
Today, I received news that I will be getting a new boss. Naturally, given all that has happened over the years, I have good reason to be apprehensive. But strangely, not a sliver of worry steals into my heart to trouble its waters. It comes to me, that for once, I am reaching out to hope with a lightness of heart, not fear. It is as if the dawn were already within me.
And I know it is not my doing. Something far greater is taking root within me. Something beyond me, beyond what I can strive for, beyond even what I deserve.
Telling me, Do not fear. I am already there in your tomorrow. And where I am, the Dawn is.
LENT 26 ~ DARE TO
Yes, we are raw. Yes, we are in the dark belly of a whale. Yes, we ache. Who can be Jesus’ “little sunbeam” at such a time? Would Jesus even want such a thing? He is after much more than happiness in our lives. He is after a sustaining joy and He will give us that joy by giving us Himself, whether through the small gifts of life that bring us gladness or through the dark night of suffering. Sweeping affliction under the rug of our heart, therefore, is simple denial, an act of cowardice, and act of ungratefulness. We must dare to look it square in the eyes. ~ Ben Palpant
LENT 27 ~ PERFECT GRACE
Then He spoke of exterminating them,
but Moses, His chosen one,
Withstood Him in the breach
to turn back His destructive wrath. ~ Psalm 106: 23
Today, gentle wings softly brought some unexpected news. Prayers to ease sufferings caused by ignorance, prayers cried out in agony and anguish, from the depths of souls, wrought gentle grace instead. On this Thursday, a day on which I’ve long prayed for the illumination of conscience for myself and others, I learned that God had softened the hearts of a small group of people from work. And through that, they found the grace to be merciful and compassionate. It was unexpected, this change. Yes, it has taken long months of suffering and enduring, but in the earliest signs of spring yet, the first of roses are finding bloom.
Unlike Moses, when we pray, we cannot always be sure where the answers to our prayers will find landing, nor will we know how they will bloom.
Yet, guided by the hand of the Almighty, grace will indeed come to rest where it is most needed, in perfect answer to prayer.
LENT 28 ~ THIS LAST ONE
but sustain the just,
O searcher of heart and soul, O just God. ~ Psalm 7: 10
I was taken aback to see that 5 years ago, almost to the day, I had fervently said this exact prayer, to be saved from the unspeakable malice of three people in my place of work. Today, 5 years later, things have changed so much. One of the three has been removed permanently and no longer troubles me. One is miraculously beginning to find good roots within himself. But the last one…
The last one still carries knives within her but she numbers not among of those who wound because they have been wounded, at least not in the classic sense of the word. This last one worships at the altar of herself. And anyone who does not fall to their knees before her is her enemy and one whom she must slay.
This last one has tortured me endlessly over the past years. Yet, today, I write not as much for myself as for another. Because I have discovered that what this woman has done to me, she is beginning to do to another, knifing this new victim, who looks like a fool to the world, cowering, absorbing every strike and not fighting back. It brings back memories of what I went through, firing a wound within me for my helpless friend.
When will this end?
Yesterday, our family took a long evening drive along country roads leading to the western skies. Massive dark clouds grew across the skies. Yet, behind them, the wide expanses were illuminated by the final light of the setting sun, rendering stunning shards and swathes of bright, rosy tangerines. In my heart, I fell to my knees before such breathtaking beauty and immense power. All the words I had sensed recently came before me once more,
Final hours
You’re almost there
And yet, standing out stronger than anything was the beating my poor friend was enduring at the hands of a malice whose roots sank all the way into the darkness of narcissistic pride and cruelty .
Take her away, Lord, I prayed of this last one.
This last one is being nourished in malice by the joy she receives from seeing her victims crushed and also by the numbers who worship at her altar out of fear, weighted by the shadows they too carry within them.
Take her away, Lord
Because as long as we refuse to break and to glorify her, she will not rest and the cruelty will live on unabated.
Take her away, Lord
Because we have tried so hard to love her and to teach her to love – and we have failed, it seems. Take her where she can learn to love without setting a price, that her soul may be saved.
We rounded the corner on the slightly bumpy road and my husband said, This is the last we’ll see of the sunset before we turn back east. Just at the turn, just as he said, even with the dark sky~towers in the foreground, the entire sky exploded into a shimmering vista of orange and gold.
For a long minute, it stayed that way. Then, the turn came, and we turned back into darkness. Going back into the dark, quipped my husband gaily. After a glimpse of what lies beyond, I bantered back.
But as we drove back, I silently wondered if my prayer would find its landing in God’s heart, for I am a sinner, often praying prayers out of the darkness of my own sins and less of the prayers I should actually offer up. And He, searcher of mind and heart, sees everything.
Unexpectedly, today, once again comes, Let the malice of the wicked come to an end. After 5 years of pain and prayers. Is this God’s answer to my questions yesterday? This time, I see something I didn’t before, the end of Psalm 7,
God sharpens His sword,
strings and readies the bow,
Consider how one conceives iniquity;
is pregnant with mischief,
and gives birth to deception.
He digs a hole and bores it deep,
but he falls into the pit he has made.
His malice turns back upon his head;
his violence falls on his own skull. ~ Psalm 7: 13; 15 – 17
This last one. Lord, please, please help.
LENT 29 ~ SPARROW~WORDS
Those that sow in tears
shall reap rejoicing. ~ Psalm 126: 5
Every Sunday, I stand before my altar and look up at my Jesus and reaffirm my promise to Him that I will live my Sunday as a day of special thanksgiving and rest. It doesn’t always work to plan, given that I am a workaholic and life does happen. Recently, I learned that even on a Sunday, God could still call me to go out into a vineyard of need. It taught me that each day given to us is His gift to us to live it as He has willed.
Today, intent on that same rest and thanksgiving, I instead sensed a heaviness in my spirit. I could tell straight off, it was not mine, though. I felt it was someone suffering from workplace discrimination, with loss of hope in a long journey of suffering.
Or perhaps I was picking up on someone’s feeling of anguish that even if people cared, no one could really help.
Last night, I had seen these words,
Whatever you do won’t be enough, I heard their voices say.
Try anyway.
~ Barack Obama, A Promised Land
Two tiny words that shone out their light, then receded into their stillness.
Try anyway
And so I did. I traced back this heaviness I was sensing, going backwards along its path of hidden tears, till I reached the eyes from which flowed this quiet pain. Is it hers, I wondered. I don’t know her. What if I’m rebuffed? What if her pain pushes me away? Because I could sense something very big and very deep behind this person’s statements of hurt.
Try anyway, gentle yet firm, the words came back.
So, timidly and hesitantly I typed out the words I might want to hear from someone. Neither the words to feed the anger, nor to minimize the suffering, nor even to shame the person for crying out for help by saying, I suffered more, why can’t you bear even this? I tried my best to acknowledge the loneliness of her suffering, the isolation of it, the shame of being the only one. But I could feel the sparseness of my words, puny against this towering pain.
Then, I told her I was going to ask God for a miracle for her. That her sowing of tears would someday reap the joy of rejoicing.
The very minute I laid those words, as mundane and as small as the simple sparrow, by this unknown person’s heart, I felt the weight lift from mine. From a distance came the call of a lone eagle circling the whitened~blue skies as if he too had met this weight coming off from me.
And with that I just knew that on this Sunday, those words of hope was all my Jesus had asked of me for a stranger’s pain.
LENT 30 ~ MAY THE LORD HEAR
As she wept she looked up to heaven, for she trusted in the Lord wholeheartedly.
The Lord heard her prayer… ~ Daniel 13: 35; 44
LENT 31 ~ WHEN THE ROAD ENDS
Oh what remorse we shall feel at the end of our lives, when we look back upon the great number of instructions and examples afforded by God and the Saints for our perfection, and so carelessly received by us!
If this end were to come to you today, would you be pleased with the life you have led this year?
~ St Francis de Sales
LENT 32 ~ ALWAYS HEARD AND ANSWERED
The prayer most pleasing to Me is prayer for the conversion of sinners. Know, My daughter, that this prayer is always heard and answered. ~ Jesus to St Faustina Kowalska, Diary, Divine Mercy in My Soul, Entry 1397
It is never an easy thing for me to pray for someone’s conversion. If it does come easily, it is because I have not suffered at this person’s hands, the pain of their darkness not having pierced me.
Remember O Christian soul, that thou has this day… ~ St Augustine
Today, hearing about someone who had hurt a friend at work, I had the choice to choose between anger or to pray for the other person’s conversion. Of course, I sought the flames first. But as the fire caught the field, I sensed a tiny bud open its petals ever so slightly in the depths of my spirit.
Pray for his conversion
And so I did, this time falling more easily into an old, mystical prayer which promises conversion when it is prayed from roots of contrition and faith,
LENT 33 ~ TIME TO LEAVE
Despite keeping to a regular Lenten posting schedule, I was still surprised to realise that Holy Week was almost upon us. With that dawning, came the usual regret that life wasn’t more quiet, less harried to allow me to sink deeper into this final quiet.
But I also knew that one thing at least was in my hands: to cut off from two online communities I was added to recently and to regain some measure of quiet. I have never liked being part of online communities where I cannot block notifications of posts. Something about those bell-icons, red bubbles, green bubbles, what-have-you – annoy me deeply. Yet, as it is not in my nature to simply ignore any form of messages or notifications, in order to have some peace, every single day – sometimes even several times in a day – I have to stop everything just to clear the ever-growing cache of messages.
Soon, I realised something else too: I was making a habit of scrolling through those hundreds of messages before deleting them, in the fear that there might just be something important to take note of, and in the process, I was being drawn into so many lives and endless rounds of conversations.
I’ve always been interested in people. If there’s a vineyard of need, I want to help if I can. And there have been times when the pain of people in these two communities have moved me to reach out and offer them my bread. However, it was also growing upon me that I was being drawn out too much and in danger of wading into imagined needs, pouring energy and help into what were actually hidden wastelands.
About a week or two back, I decided that today, my Thursday of illumination, would be the day when I would cut my ties to those two online communities which were connected to my professional life. Unfortunately, when the day arrived, I wasn’t as sure that I should do it.
But Someone was sure that I needed to cut off.
Driving along shadowy roads to work, the skies above were silver and lavender, embroidered with a sprinkling of diamond~stars. My heart ached. For the thousandth time, I wished I could just quit my job and just rest from the never ending cycle of hope and disappointment.
Just then, I caught sight of a familiar blue-caped emissary, perched on the side of the narrow road. The kingfishers have become a little rare in recent months. This was the first time ever I saw one sitting unexpectedly on the road. Hitting the brakes to avoid injuring it, I knew immediately that the only reason the little kingfisher was there in such an odd place was because God had meant it to be His sign to me, to tell me,
Quieten Down, Listen Up
The noise had to go. No matter what minute benefit I stood to lose, it was time to leave the communities. So, as rain~pearls curtained the fading hours after work, I deleted my ties and left for good.
All because a little blue king had perched by the side of the road to bring me God’s will where I had none.
LENT 34 ~ I WILL FIGHT FOR YOU
LENT 35 ~ WATER FOR THE ROCKS
Prayer to St. Raphael, Archangel
Glorious archangel, St. Raphael, great prince of the heavenly court, illustrious by thy gifts of wisdom and grace, guide of travelers by land and sea, consoler of the unfortunate and refuge of sinners, I entreat thee to help me in all my needs and in all the trials of this life, as you did once assist the young Tobias in his journeying. And since thou art the “physician of God,” I humbly pray thee to heal my soul of its many infirmities and my body of the ills that afflict it, if this favor is for my greater good. I ask, especially, for angelic purity, that I may be made fit to be the living temple of the Holy Ghost.
Today, an unexpected skirmish with a family member upset me. Unexpected as it was, it was just one of many I’ve had with this person and I was so tired of it all. I flew straight to God’s heart and I vented mightily there. But by late evening, the annoyance was still stinging and I conceded that something more was needed.
Emerging from the cave and standing on the ridge, I called out for all my saint-friends, calling each one by name. I had a feeling that I was missing some humility but I wanted to be completely truthful as well. So, I expressed my frustration to them, holding nothing back. I told the Communion of Saints, including the Archangels, that I felt like giving up on this family member; but I ended by quietly asking that I be shown my sin as well in this tug-of-war, in case it was I who was in the wrong.
There was no denying that all I wanted was to turn away and stop caring even as I knew that giving up on this person and walking away was not God’s way. Yet, wounds in a heart can be like rocks strewn across the path of an already tattered and mottled human will, making it a struggle to love, to forgive and to persevere.
Blood and Water that gushed out from the Heart of Jesus as a fount of Mercy for me,
I trust in Thee.
Still, as afternoon rains began to press their silver~pearls into a waiting earth, my heart slowly fell into peace in the ensuing hours. Busy once more with work and studies, the morning’s squabble retreated quietly to the sidelines of my consciousness.
Until I drew St Raphael and realised that it was the second time since yesterday.
And spied the words my heart had missed before,
consoler of the unfortunate and refuge of sinners,
in all the trials of this life,
physician of God,
I humbly pray thee to heal my soul of its many infirmities
Even as God saw my hurt, He also saw my need for healing.
And so, He sent His Angel with Water from His Sacred Side, to break and dislodge the rocks within my heart.
LENT 36 ~ THE WAY OF THE COLT
Today, many years ago, He rode a donkey, not a horse. ~ Anonymous
Today, the flames of stray, angry thoughts are quickly doused when these words find me,
He rode a donkey, not a horse
In a tender Palm Sunday miracle, those 7 words remind me that God’s ways are always different to what the human heart clamours for.
Through the way of the colt, He gently tells me to put my hand into His, and to let Him lead.
LENT 37 ~ LIGHT FOR THE DARK
Above all, I beg of you to be always gay, joyful and happy, for this is the true mark of the Spirit of God, Who wishes that we should serve Him in peace and contentment; do not be uneasy or anxious, but do all things with liberty of mind and in the presence of God. ~ St. Margaret Mary Alacoque
Holy Week began on a difficult note but today, things deepened without warning and completely knocked me off the hill. I finally broke down at Jesus’ feet, my first time in some weeks.
Still, I had a feeling I was under some kind of attack. I don’t usually see things in this light but I did today. Because today, having heard of vicious attacks against Ukrainian women and girls, I felt I had to do something. Knowing how packed and busy my day was going to be, I needed to be able to make some kind of a continuous offering, alongside the calls of work. Hence, I decided to offer up as many Hail Mary’s as I could, asking Mother Mary if each bud could in some way be used to save the life of a woman or a girl.
A few rose~buds in, everything began to unravel. Even minor issues threw me off balance, on and on, snowballing till late afternoon. By late evening, as the humidity of an impending storm singed the sunset hours, I knew I had barely given anything towards so great a need. Hell was being unearthed in Ukraine and here I was, as usual, tripping over far smaller trials. Darkness had seemingly won.
But someone saw, and someone knew I needed help against whatever was blowing hard against me today.
Above all, I beg of you to be always gay, joyful and happy, for this is the true mark of the Spirit of God, Who wishes that we should serve Him in peace and contentment;
How do I be this gay, joyful and happy when dark winds rise? I wondered mutinously. How do I not lose the mark of the Holy Spirit? For once, I felt that beloved saint~friend did not have God’s word for me today.
Just as frustration began to curl into me, I saw it,
…do not be uneasy or anxious,
but do all things with liberty of mind and in the presence of God.
On my own, I can do none of the above for I bear no kinship with the serene lotuses of still ponds. The quiet peace of saints continually evades me. But if there’s anything I’ve managed to learn, it is that I can always trust in God to grant me every grace to fill every dry gully of need. What I have need of, He will provide.
So, back to God’s Heart I went again.
This time, into Its depths I gave up my darkness. In exchange I took His Light.
LENT 38 ~ THE ANCIENT LONELINESS
Here they are gathered, wondering and deranged,
Round Him, who wisely doth Himself inclose,
And who now takes Himself away, estranged,
From those who owned Him once, and past them
flows.
He feels the ancient loneliness to-day
That taught Him all His deepest acts of love;
Now in the olive groves He soon will rove,
And these who love Him all will flee away. ~ Ranier Maria Rilke
LENT 39 ~ SCHOOL OF LOVE
The Cross is the school of Love. ~ St. Maximilian Kolbe
LENT 40 ~ VIGIL NIGHT
The fasts are done; the Aves said;
The moon has filled her horn
And in the solemn night I watch
Before the Easter morn.
So pure, so still the starry heaven,
So hushed the brooding air,
I could hear the sweep of an angel’s wings
If one should earthward fare. ~ Edna Dean Proctor, Easter Morning
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