So often, what besmirches life is worthless yearning. It comes in and takes over our hours in God’s vineyards. What should be shunned and abandoned is allowed to cross the border between death and life. As each new day pearls with the awakening sun, we vacillate between the world and God. Our march towards life stalls because we fasten our hope to barren fig trees that will never yield life.

          Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today.   ~  Ernest Hemingway

          When God shot that arrow into my heart, it signaled the time to make a decision –  to choose between traps that precipitate death and faith which births life. 

          He wanted me to stop and decide which way to fly from this point on.

          About a week ago, I began to sense the word, Word, light up. It was some time before it occurred to me that the Voice I sought, silent for so long, was going to be heard through the daily Readings.

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this:
to care for orphans and widows in their affliction
and to keep oneself unstained by the world.   ~   James 1:27

And He said,
“Amen, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own native place. ~ Luke 4:24

Now the natural man does not accept what pertains to the Spirit of God, for to him it is foolishness, and he cannot understand it, because it is judged spiritually. ~ 1 Corinthians 2:14

Who can ascend the mountain of the LORD?
or who may stand in His holy place?
He whose hands are sinless, whose heart is clean,
who desires not what is vain.   ~   Psalm 24: 3 – 4

And finally,

It does not concern me in the least
that I be judged by you or any human tribunal;
I do not even pass judgment on myself;
I am not conscious of anything against me,
but I do not thereby stand acquitted;
the one who judges me is the Lord.   ~   1 Corinthians 4: 3 – 4

         God is calling me to escape from the fetters of wanting to be valued and appreciated at work, for the eyes of my superiors and colleagues will always be strained towards what lies beyond their field. Their esteem wasted not on the labourers of the slums of the voiceless and defenseless, they will value only what (and who) does not trouble their conscience. By allowing myself to hope for their respect, I place value on the fool’s gold that they prize, gold that has blinded and deafened them.

          I abase the spirit He has put into me. 

          Instead, God wants me to seal my heart to the poor He has brought into my life. And to work for the poor, free from the fear of the judgement of fools. Because there is only one sun that points the way forward: it is the judgement of God.

          Ten years ago today, on the feast of Her Nativity, Mother Mary told me, Sorrow before Joy. Will I tarry in the mould of the world’s foolishness? Or will I turn towards the rose of the rising sun?

          It is now time to decide.







Pray for Judges


Pray for judges

          After weeks of praying, Save my country, praying for our leaders, for our people, the Lord unexpectedly placed this exhortation on my heart in the dark hours of Sunday morn.

          It was not a prayer that fell right into my heart, I’m not sure why. Nevertheless, I gnawed at it all the way to Mass even as I obeyed the call.

          But upon hearing our pastor’s sermon at Mass, I had no doubts I had heard right: Father unexpectedly preached on wrongful incarceration.

          This comes after the sorrow caused by the judgement in the Alfie Evans case in the UK. When judges play God and deny parents their right to that final struggle and that final suffering for their dying children. I don’t think Alfie’s young parents really expected a miracle cure in Italy even if they hoped for one; what their hearts must have yearned for most was a safe place to love their baby as he waned from this earthly life. Safe from the distractions of struggles and tussles with medical staff.

          Safe from the sickening fear of court judgements that tore children from their parents.

          And when going to Italy was ruled against, all they wanted was to take the boy who would never grow up, home.

          But the courts denied them that.

Pray for judges

          How many lives are being altered along wrongful lines just because of flawed judgements? Even if there are aspects I do not understand about the Alfie Evans case that might have guided the judge to his decision, there are many, many more lives the world over,  scarred permanently by judgements made without the fear of God.

          And this scarring is seldom limited to just that one life because suffering is rarely contained. Often its pain is borne by and marks every other world entwined with that one world turned upside down by a judge who forgets he is not God.

          An unseen hand beckons that I step into the rushing currents of cries of my suffering people. Time is short. Sensing an urgency, I turn my heart towards the call. Every vocal prayer, every struggle, every hurt – I offer them all as prayers for judges and their judgements.

          It is then that something slips into my prayers,

Pray for their conversion. That they love God.




Lent 27 ~ Curses and Stones


          I saw the Holy Father in a very large house, kneeling before a table, with his face in his hands, crying. Outside the house were many people, some of whom cast stones at him, others cursed him and said many ugly words. Poor Holy Father! We have to pray a lot for him. – Blessed Jacinta Marto, Fatima seer

LENT 25 ~ By Love, on love


At the end of our earthly travails, we will be judged by Love, on love.


ALL THAT MATTERS   by Edgar A. Guest

When all that matters shall be written down
And the long record of our years is told,
Where sham, like flesh, must perish and grow cold;
When the tomb closes on our fair renown
And priest and layman, sage and motleyed clown
Must quit the places which they dearly hold,
What to our credit shall we find enscrolled?
And what shall be the jewels of our crown?
I fancy we shall hear to our surprise
Some little deeds of kindness, long forgot,
Telling our glory, and the brave and wise
Deeds which we boasted often, mentioned not.
God gave us life not just to buy and sell,
And all that matters is to live it well.

LENT 23 ~ Lasts


          There is a summons that comes that no soul can evade, no power on earth can prevent. Whether in gentleness or violence come, it is a call that must be answered.

          Several have passed on into the next life recently. Some from previous weeks, Nancy Reagan yesterday. When the heavenly call came, some were ready, some not. Some did not wait for the summons but marked it on the calendar in their hardened hearts and willfully untethered their boats as angels wept.

          As they began their passing, each one of them, did they turn back, one last look at a life they knew too well? A life aged and feebled from trials and twists, weathered by the beat of joyful suns and the mourn of rains? Did they then see, in the final misting, all that had been done and yet to be done? In the final sight that nothing can blur nor blot out, did they see every deed, small and great, what was willed by Heaven and what was not?

          Did they feel the lance of bitter regret in the final waning minutes, and lurch to make one last lunge to hold on to a passing hope? Or in weariness turn away from all that was, to all that will be?

          Did they hear melodies unheard by human ears, the shimmering joy~notes of cherubim in their welcome of another to the breast of heaven? Or was it a dirge of hopes destroyed, or anguished terror of other lives forcibly ended, that haunted dying ears in that final weep to the sandbank on the other side?

          Did they see faces known and loved come back to love and lead to Light again? Did parents see the faces of children and babies, loved and gone, not loved and made to go?

          Who did they see, what did they hear, before the final blurring of earthly sight and sounds? What fell upon dying senses when angels released the moorings one last time, for that last of journeys across the lake of still, to the feet of a just Judge…