The Meaning of Life…

Yes, I’m counting down to the wedding. Yes, it’s 18 more days to till we say ‘I do’. Yes, everything is pretty much sorted out (we hope).

Yes, we’re still planning to get married.

Time certainly has taken on a warp-speed effect the past few weeks and the days seem to by whizzing past us. I believe neither of us is really able to gauge the effect of this big day as of yet. We seem to be working on automatic mode to complete the tiny details of what needs to be done. Perhaps none of this will hit us until after the wedding, when we’re just sitting there looking at each other and then realising…

OK. That’s done.

The prospect of the wedding and being married is enthralling to both of us. We certainly are looking forward to the idea of being man and wife. And yes, we have these great big dreams about how it’s going to be and how everything will be happy and joyful and nothing can go wrong. That the problems that affect other couples, married or otherwise, will not be an issue for us.  Are we naive to believe that we won’t have difficulties in our married life? I think not. And yet I do believe that within both us lives a great sense of hope that even in the midst of all the difficulties and turmoil, we will figure a way out of it and emerge triumphant.

We certainly hope so.

I’ve been reading with great interest a few of my friends blogs. Somehow the topic of relationships remain a central point to most of them. Those who have loved and lost, those who have loved and let go, those who are still in love and trying to make some sense of it, those who are still in love and continue to be in love.  I still have friends who good-naturedly ask me if I still want to get married. I have friends who are so excited at the prospect of me getting married that people might be mistaken to think that they are the ones getting married. I have friends who have plenty of words of wisdom. And friends who quietly share in my happiness.

I love them all.

The past few weeks have opened my eyes to the many wonders that being in a relationship offers. No, not “that” wonder. But truly, it has been an opportunity for so much growth and self-realisation. Learning to spend more and more time with one person, I’ve come to learn how much of my old-self I need to die to, in order that new ways of living and loving can start. That while it is true that in any relationship, there is always an element of give and take, I must first learn to give without expecting to take. That even after a fight, it is possible to look at the other in the eye, to say ‘I Love You’, and to mean it with all my heart. To know that love isn’t always about what I get out of it, and not even what I give into it, but that it is just what it is; Love.

If God is Love, and Love is God; then God is God, and Love is Love.

To myself, the constant reminder of what a wonderful journey I have been allowed to live, is the constant love that I have received from all those around me. Love that I probably do not deserve. But then again, love doesn’t count the cost. Nor does it keep score. And if I have been shown this love, who I am to deny it to those around me? It matters not if the person is someone I do not like, God sends the sun and rain on the good and bad.

In as much as I receive, that is as much as I should give. For in the end, I am nothing more than what He gives to me.

And I have come to see that even this marriage, this wonderful person that I will share my life with, is something that He gives to me. And if He gives it to me, it can only be good. It is now up to me, and to us, to make sure that what we are given remains good. I do believe that if we remain in Him, and Him in us, then come what may, it WILL be good.

That is the hope. *smile*

It’s amazing that, looking back, the last post I wrote was 5 months ago. And now, here I am, with barely 2 months to go before our wedding.  To say that time has flown is putting it mildly. The weeks and months really have rushed passed in a blur. A lot of the preparation has already been sorted out, and yet it still feels like there is still so much to do. I guess it’s the paranoid planner in me having the time of his life. *grin*

The planning phase has truly been a wonderful experience. I doubt there will ever be a situation quite like this ever in my life again. Not to say that there won’t be others more challenging. But honestly, I don’t see how something else could match up to this. And yet, it’s been a lovely journey. Melanie and I are learning so much about each other as the days go by; as we make decisions and choices together, as we understand each others strengths and weaknesses, as we compromise on what we need, what we want and what we like. It’s not always been the smoothest of sailings, but for me (I certainly won’t speak for her), it has been an absolute joy.

The challenge of the past few months has also got a lot to do with the giving up and letting go of other priorities in my life to make room for this relationship to take it’s place as one of my higher priorities in life. This means having to let go of tight family, social and civic relationships and duties. And this has not been easy. There is so little that I want to let go of my current life, and yet I want so much more with Melanie. And I’m beginning to learn that it cannot be this way. I only have a fixed amount of time and energy. I have to let go.

And so I have. Slowly but surely. I see that it is not only a struggle for me, but also for those with whom I am slowly starting to let go off. Some take it harder, most take it understandingly. And for that I am grateful. Moving on is never easy, which is why the support and encouragement is always of great benefit to me. I know me, and I know that if I am passionate about something, I won’t let go so easily. But those around me have been great pillars of strength in teaching me to let go.

This time has also given me an opportunity to ponder about this blog. Looking back, I’ve come to see this blog as a sort of psychological therapy, allowing me to pen down what’s constantly revolving in my head, allowing me a chance to get it out and see what it looks like on the outside. It hasn’t really mattered to me if people did read it or not, though thoughts on my thoughts has always been welcome. But truly, it has been more for me.

With Melanie in my life, I have a chance to do this with someone else, and not just to write it down on digital paper. Perhaps this has also been the reason why I have not written for so long. There have been occasions when I did think of writing, but after talking it out with Melanie, it didn’t seem necessary to do so.

So maybe this blog will die a natural death, as some other things have in the past few months. Maybe it will just lie dormant for a while until an occasion presents itself to resurrect this space, maybe with a different perspective. Maybe I’ll just seal this space as it is and start something new somewhere else. To be honest, I don’t know. And I don’t want to make any firm decisions just yet. As a wise friend once told me, some things just need time to brew. Like great coffee! *grin*

What I do want to say is that, no matter what happens after this, this blog will forever remain as part of my life. A part that I am truly grateful for, as I am with every other part of my life. And along with that, I am grateful to everyone who has been on this journey with me, as erratic as it may have been. Your thoughts, comments and simple presence has spurred me to continue on. And I am eternally indebted to all of you for that. *smile*

Thank you.

It certainly has been a very busy past few months. With the preparations of a youth camp held in mid-November, as well as early preparations for the wedding, time certainly has flown by very quickly. It’s already December and a new year beckons in about 30 days. Wow. I’m not surprised at how quickly the year has gone. I am definitely surprised by how much has happened in the year. It truly has been a year of much grace and blessings from Him.

It also has been an amazing year for learning. A part of me feels that I have actually drifted a little bit further from my faith. And I certainly do not deny the fact. It has been a great struggle this past year to maintain my regular prayer times and other activities to deepen my relationship with Him. It has also been a very difficult year in terms of avoiding the temptations and occasions for failure and sin.

Yet, there is another part of me that recognises just how much He continues to teach and guide me, even during the times when I presume I am not listening or refuse to accept His plan for me.

Coming to acceptance of a committed relationship and planning for it has not been easy, and that is putting it very mildly. The swift shift from a lovey-dovey, doe-eyed relationship to a earth-grounding, permanent marriage is very, very  humbling. As much as we thought we knew about each other, we began to realise that the tip of the icberg truly was, well, just the tip of the iceberg. Differences in opinions, perspectives, ideals and desires suddenly become a huge part of the partnership especially in dealing with major decisions.

Understanding the differences that exists, and learning to adapt to these changes have resulted in not too few days of disagreements and unhappiness. Not that it has in any way affected our desire and commitment towards the marriage. In some ways it has served to further strengthen the relationship as we both began to see just how much we are willing to sacrifice and work towards this goal. It is a true affirmation of our intentions when at the the end of the argument we can sit down and come to a common understanding.

One important learning lesson that I have come to see is the importance of patience. Not the “she’s-mad-now-so-let’s-wait-for-things-to-cool-down” patience, or the “ok-I’ll-give-in-to-her-request,-for-now” patience. It’s the patience of knowing that some things are just the way they are, even if I or we don’t fully understand or comprehend the situation. It is a patience that comes from knowing that good things will come, in His time, if we but wait and keep ourselves ready for it. It is the patience of knowing that instant gratification is one of the quickest paths to the destruction of any relationship.

This has been something that I have been keenly aware of for some time now. It is something that Melanie is currently struggling to understand and accept. And I probably haven’t been gentle in helping her to understand this. She’s more of a “live-for-the-moment” kind of person, while I am more of a “let’s-understand-how-our-current-decisions-will-affect-our-future” kind of person, especially when it comes to relationships. I have been through some really tough moments in my past, the last thing I want to do is to repeat the same mistakes again. It probably would serve us both best if we were to learn from each other, such that I’m not so uptight, and she’s not overly carefree. But that will take some time. I am hopeful that we will learn from each other.

Attending Mass with Melanie over the weekend, the priest spoke about Advent (the liturgical season we have just entered into) and the meaning behind it. He spoke of Advent as both a time of internal reflection on the past year, as well as a joyful anticipation of the second coming of Christ. He spoke of Advent as time of understanding our current relationship with Him. He spoke of Advent as a time to renew ourselves and the lives that we choose to live.

He spoke of Advent as a time of understanding the importance of learning to wait.

Why wait? Why not just do everything now?

Just as everything has it’s season, just as flowers only bloom in spring, everything has it’s place and time. When we rush into doing everything now, we destroy the beauty of anticipation, the wonder and awe of surprise. When we want to do things before it’s proper time, we destroy the dignity of sanctity, of humanity.

A tree cannot bloom in winter because it does not have sufficient nutrients to sustain the life of the flowers. A person cannot rush into things because he/she may not have the ability or the maturity to cope withe the responsibilities that come with that decision. As much as I would like to think that I am all-mature and all-knowing, I know for a fact that I am not. And when I rush into a choice, I destroy the sanctity and purity of humanity because of my selfishness and desires.

I continue to struggle with learning to wait. I remember writing in a previous post “Wait. No“:

I have learned that the testimony of my faith is when God says “Wait”.
I have learned that the greatest testimony of my faith is when God says “No”

I am beginning to learn that I can’t just make God make me wait.

I have to learn to wait.

I can count on one hand the number of times I have apologised to my father. Sincerely apologise I mean. Of course there were the numerous times as a kid when I knew I had done something wrong, or I knew that my dad knew I had done something wrong, when I would apologise (before or after the caning) in the ardent hope of escaping further punishment. Then there were the four times I apologised mainly because I had crashed one of the family cars.  Yes, four times.

The last time I really apologised to my dad was at the beginning of the year when the entire family was going through a crisis. It was easier then because I had justified my actions internally, claiming that my dad was just being my dad and expecting things to go his way. Yes, I apologied. Yes, it was sincere. But I didn’t feel very much because in my mind I hadn’t really done anything wrong. I was apologising as a way for all of us to move forward. But if you ask me when was the last time before that, I cannot remember.

Yesterday was different. On Sunday, while discussing the wedding plans with my dad, I said something that hurt him. It wasn’t meant to hurt him. At that moment in time I felt that I needed to get the message across to him and he wasn’t trying to understand my point of view. So I said it in the the pretext of wanting to getting things done. But the fact of the matter was that I wanted it done my way. I’m so like my dad in that sense.

There was a tense moment of silence for about 3 minutes. Then my dad brought up another topic and we continued our conversation as if nothing had ever happened. And that was how it was even as I left for Singapore and all through Monday. I didn’t even give it a second thought. In my mind I was still right.

On the bus heading home that evening, I was reading an article in the “Word Among Us”. It spoke about forgiveness and the urgent need for it. It said:

“Sometimes we don’t forgive or ask for forgiveness because of pride; at other times it’s because the pain is too great. But we must know this: Unresolved sin blocks the flow of love and mercy. It divides.”

I could easily understand the first part. I recognise that there are times when I am too proud to apologise. This was not one of those times. I knew in my heart that if I wanted to apologise, I could. So what was stopping me?

The second part. At other times it’s because the pain is too great. It took me a while to realise that my fear of asking forgiveness from my dad was because of all the past experiences with him. I remember pleading with him for mercy in the past and not getting it. I remember begging and crying hoping that he would stop, but he didn’t. I realised then that I stopped asking for forgiveness because I never expected to receive it in the first place. And that was extemely painful.

And yet as I dwelt on it, the third part kept haunting me. Unresolved sin blocks the flow of love and mercy. It divides. I knew then what I needed to do. And yet I couldn’t. The fear and the pain was still to great to bear. I didn’t know how I would react if he insisted on being angry or hurt. I knew this time that I had caused it through no fault of his. I wanted to know that he had forgiven me but I didn’t know if I would get it. So I took the semi-brave, semi-chicken path. I sent him a text message. Even as I was typing it my heart was pounding and my fingers trembling. Yet all the while I knew it had to be done. Even as the message was sent I was still worried about his reaction.

He didn’t answer for almost 2 hours. But by that time I had offered the whole incident to God and asked Him to take care of it. No matter what the response would be from my dad, I would take it and accept the consequence. I needed to open the path of love and mercy again, even if it meant having to bear this pain.

And yet, like all dads (and mums as well), the response was loving. Perhaps when I (and he) was younger, we both didn’t know how to handle our hurt and anger very well. It didn’t mean that he didn’t love me. This time it was a gentler, humbler response. He said that he did feel hurt over the incident. And yet his main concern was to ensure that things went well in preparing for the wedding, and that he was willing to help out where necessary. He said that the past is past and that it was all OK.

And just like that, it was all OK. I knew there and then that I would never see my dad in the same light again. All the past fear and hurt flew out the window. This is not to say that I don’t think we’ll have more issues to contend with down the road. I know for a fact that we will. But what I do know now is that when it does happen, we’ll both be able to see it from different eyes; from eyes that love without fear.

I needed to do this. I hope he did too.

This is the reason I go for the Sacrament of Reconciliation:

God the Father of mercies
Through the death and resurrection of his Son
Has reconciled the world to Himself
And sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins;

Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace
And I absolve you from your sins
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Could I ask God for forgiveness directly?
Yes. I could.
Would God forgive my sins even without me speaking to the priest?
I sincerely believe that He would.

Is it still important for me to go to a priest for absolution?
Definitely yes.
Why?
Because I need so much to hear that.

It’s been a while since I’ve updated this blog. Yes, I am fully aware of this fact. *smile*. While I could easily reason that I’ve been backpacking around Australia for the past month, and then there’s been much to catch up on the work-front, that I haven’t had much to write about; the truth is a lot nicer than all that put together.

The truth is that it’s been nice to let the idea that I’m getting married sink into my heart and soul and to really just enjoy the moment. *smile*

Australia was an amazing place to backpack. The distance between cities wasn’t so much fun but the sights and sounds when we got there more than made up for time and the cost. I really could go into the details of the travel (yes I could), but honestly no amount of words could truly sum up the experience. So I’ll just leave it as it is, another beautiful moment in my life.

I’ve been receiving many words of congratulations regarding my upcoming wedding. Also many surprised reactions, which is quite fun to see, though the most entertaining look was definitely on the face of Melanie when I proposed to her. I guess no one is ever fully ready for anything no matter the circumstance. But I enjoy surprising her and I hope that I’ll continue to find little ways to surprise her for the rest of her life. I already have a few planned up my sleeves. *wink*

And the planner in both of us have already started the task of preparing for this wonderful occasion. I’m glad we have that in common.

Interestingly, I had a nice little discourse with a person whom I don’t even know. A friend wrote in her blog how she felt that people by and large do not change. While the outward demeanour may be different, she attributes it to a mask that has been put on and exercised so well that it is merely the ‘image’ that gets better, while the core remains the same. She believes that we can’t change no matter how well we wear the mask; that eventually our true nature is revealed.

That obviously made me think. I commented that our ‘core’ as we believe it to be (as created by our Creator) is innately good, not bad. Our life experiences shape who we become, how we think and feel, and eventually what we say and do. I agreed we essentially don’t change this personality of ours unless we become aware, or if a life-changing experience changes our perspective on life.

It is at this point that the other person came into the picture. He was curious to know what life-changing experience I had that made me believe that this change truly was possible. Without going into details, I simply told him that it was because of an end to a past relationship. Of course, me being me, I also added a few other thoughts that had nothing to do with the experience but to merely to reinforce that change was possible.

He went on to relate an experience of his friend who also had a long-term relationship end badly. While this person has moved on with his life, he still bears the scars and the memory of the past. He believes that his friend has not changed, merely put it behind, and wears a mask to hide it all.

Do we change? Have I changed? Have I really changed or is it just another mask? Or the old mask that I have learned to wear better? How do I really know? I don’t know if I am the most honest person to answer that. My mum says she sees a change in me. Have I learned to wear the mask so well that I’m even able to fool my mum? I think I have changed. Am I fooling myself? I’m getting married. Have I really been able to put the past behind?

I have been able to look back at the past four years of my life with much peace and joy. I know I am taking baby steps to become a better person, the person that He wants me to be. Yes I am still very prone to making the same mistakes, over and over again. Yes, I still possess many of the traits that I am not particularly proud of. Yes, I probably don’t spend as much time trying to really discern His will for me.

It would probably be very unfair to tell myself that I have not changed; to think that this is merely a mask and that I’m getting slicker at pulling the wool over the eyes of others. There may not be any statistical proof or measurement to back this statement up, so I guess I’ll have to leave it at that.

What I do know for a fact is that this change certainly did not come about purely by what I have done. At the very most, I have merely co-operated with Him who is able to bring about this change in me. This change did not happen by my strength or will, nor by my wisdom or intellect. This change happened because He loves me. This changed happened because I have learned to depend on Him. This change happened because I have learned to love Him.

I know I am not there yet. I know I will never be there even at the end of my life. What I do know is that He will always be by my side, guiding me and showing me the way. My hope is that I listen to His gentle voice and take on the responsibility of doing His will. My hope is that I never become too confident, complacent or arrogant that I forget it was He who gives me everything.

I’m getting married! *grin*

This is my regular yearly reflection on my life for the past year. I initially wanted to write just one sentence. And then I thought of posting my regular full blog. In the end I decided that the middle path was probably the best.

It has been a year of pleasant surprises for me. Things that I initially thought would go horribly wrong have turned out pretty well given the circumstances. And so I am extremely grateful for the year that has gone by. I look at myself, and knowing all the weaknesses that I still need to overcome, I have come to see how much I have grown and how much God has led me down the path of life with much grace and mercy.

Who Am I?

Melvin is God’s child. And he is beginning to realise that more and more each day.
Melvin is blessed with many wonderful people surrounding him who love and support him in everything that he does. And he is truly grateful for that.
Melvin is learning to trust in God and yet to tie his donkey. He knows that his life is a mix of the grace God bestows on him and the effort he puts in to make things work.

Most importantly, Melvin is someone who is getting married next year. *grin*

Sitting in the cab on the way to a client’s location today, the cab driver started an initially innocuous conversation. When he found out that I was a Malaysian working in Singapore. he began to ask me the question which most of us Malaysian’s working in Singapore get asked: "So which is better, Singapore or Malaysia?". Personally I have never liked this question and have tried to leave the matter hanging as much as possible. For the truth is that there is truly no way to make a fair comparison. My reasons for wanting to work in Singapore are because of the positive aspects of Singapore life and my reasons for choosing to remain in Malaysia are precisely because of the good points of Malaysia. To make a comparison or to choose one over the other would be hypocritical to my own lifestyle. I am aware of my Malaysian friends, working in Singapore, who constantly grouse about Singapore. To me, I have made my choices in life and one of the choices is to not complain about these choices. Ultimately I am responsible for my decisions and I cannot make an issue about them.

The cab driver though continued to insist on his idea of where he thought was the better place. He went on and on about the positive aspects of one and the negative aspects of another. As I listened to him speaking, I begin to realise how all of us, no matter how subtle it may seem, have our own biasness towards certain issues, how we continue to insist on our way and how the opinions of others matter little because we have already fixed our way of thinking.

Actually, this point was driven even more deeply as I was in the confessional listening to the priest during the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Having made my confession, his words, gentle but firm, were a reminder of how the affect of sin has on my life. By my seemingly innocent misdeeds (now there’s an oxymoron), I open myself up to the Evil one. When that happens, I forget God and begin to think that I am God. I become insistent on my ways, shutting and cutting down anyone who chooses to go against me. It may not be as severe as murder, but by my own narrow-mindedness, I have become a tool of destruction. Instead of being the salt and the light of the earth, I have made myself to be a poison and a sword.

It might sound extremely morbid, but that is the reality of it. The reality is that we all tend to view the world with coloured lenses, most often than not that colour is dark or grey. Even the greens, reds and blues are constantly tainted with our own specks of black. That black specs are our own misdeeds. It discolours the life we live, the life that should be all colourful and beautiful.

And so as I continued to listen to the cab driver, I began to become aware of my own biasness and prejudices. I began to see how I often look at the big houses and the big cars, and wonder why it is that I am not able to obtain them. I look at my colleagues who I know are earning more than me; my peers who are doing better than me, and wonder why I am where I am. It is not hard to feel disillusioned, thinking that I should be doing more, doing better. It is easy for me to be envious of those who are financially (and therefore emotionally) better-off than me.

As Henri Nouwen says in his book, The Return of the Prodigal Son:

"Constantly I am tempted to wallow in my own lostness and lose touch with my original goodness. my God-given humanity, my basic blessedness, and thus allow the powers of death to take charge. This happens over and over again whenever I say to myself: ‘I am no good. I am useless. I am worthless. I am unloveable. I am nobody.’

… The dark voices of my surrounding world try to persuade me that I am no good and that I can only become good by earning my goodness through ‘making it’ up the ladder of success. These voices lead me quickly to forget the voice that calls me ‘my son, the Beloved’, reminding me of my being loved independently of any acclaim or accomplishment. These dark voices drown out that gentle, soft, light-giving voice that keeps calling me ‘my favourite one; they drag me to the periphery of my existence and make me doubt that there is a loving God waiting for me at the very centre of my being."

Lostness. No good. Useless. Worthless. Unloveable. Nobody. Doubt.

I know for a fact that I have used one or more (perhaps all) of these words on myself at one time or another. The sad fact is that I have probably used them on others as well. And the only reason I can think of is because I wished to put them down in the hope of putting myself in the limelight. I scorn others so that I will not be scorn. I sneer at them because I am jealous of their success and want others to see me as more accomplished. I ridicule them to exalt myself.

Isn’t that how the world views me? That I can only become ‘good’ if I have made it up the ladder of success. And the only way to make it up the ladder of success is to thrown someone higher than me off that ladder. And I do that by gossip, ridicule, sarcasm, lies.

Is it necessary? I’ve come to see that it is not. Yes, I still want to do better in life; to earn more so that I can provide for my loved one, to learn more so that I can help others, to do more so that I can find my purpose in life.

But I have come to see that in no way should that cause me to sin; be it by my thoughts, my words or my actions. To do that would be to deny my status as a child of God. If I recognise that I am already a son of God, then there is no need for me to put others down. I don’t need to be exalted because I am already in a position where I am fully loved. My wealth and success play no part in His loving me. My goodness bears no significance for Jesus was the one who redeemed me, allowing me to be good. All I have is from Him and Him alone. I can claim no success on my own merit.

And therefore I have no basis for comparison. To compare would be to claim that I am better than someone else because of my capabilities, my success, my wealth. But all these I did not achieve on my own, and so I cannot claim them for myself. I cannot compare because there is nothing to compare.

Everything comes from Him.

Attending mass on the feast of Corpus Christi (Body and Blood of Christ) over the weekend, the priest made a very simple and yet beautiful statement about the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. He was speaking especially to a group of children who would be receiving their First Holy Communion, but the words echoed strongly within me. He spoke to them about the ingredients that went into making a cake; egg, flour, sugar, butter and everything else that made it a truly delicious treat. Then he mentioned that there was one special ingredient that none of us could see but was more important that any of the others mentioned. This special ingredient was the our mother’s love, who put her heart and soul into making the cake, simply because she loved us.

And so it is with the Eucharist. Even though all we see is a piece of wafer or a chalice of wine, and while we truly recognise it as the Body and Blood of Christ, what we need to learn to see is the presence of Christ’s love. It is because of His love for us that He gave us His Body and Blood as strength for our journey here on earth. It is because of His love for us that He was willing to sacrifice His life in atonement for our sins. It is because of His love that we are able to continue on this journey of our with the hope of eternal life.

While it is ‘easier’ to recognise and admit His bodily presence in the Eucharist, it becomes harder for me to accept His love in the Sacraments He provides, especially the Sacrament of the Eucharist. Why? Because acknowledging it makes me aware of how little I love Him in return. It makes me aware of all the things I do that show how much I do not love Him. While it is easy to proclaim with my lips the immense love I have for Him and how I would do anything for Him, my actions display my insincerity and contradiction. My words bear no meaning in the light of the many deeds I perform that go directly against His will.

Therefore it becomes even harder to recognise His love and presence in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It is easier to imagine the priest as merely a human being who is compassionate and understanding, who forgives me and comforts me. It is easier this way because I bear no responsibility to the person as a priest. He does not fully understand my life and is incapable of fully understanding the difficulties I encounter in my day-to-day living. I don’t owe him and explanation nor do I need to justify my actions to him. He is merely another person, just someone slightly different because he has been empowered to forgive my sins.

Yet the church puts the priest in a totally different light. In administering the Sacraments, including (and perhaps especially) in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, the priest is acting in the person of Christ. He is not merely a symbol nor is he ’standing in’ for Jesus. He becomes the vessel for Jesus to act on so intimate a level. He becomes the voice of Christ as he absolves my sins. (Word Among Us)

That can be immensely frightening to truly believe that it is Jesus in front of me listening as I tell him how much I have strayed away from Him. It can be extremely depressing to realise that I am speaking to the person whom I am offending in the most malicious way by my words, thoughts and actions. Anyone who has ever admitted a wrong to a friend and sought their forgiveness will know how humbling an action that can be. What more in this sense to keep going back to the same person and continually admitting that you’re still making the same mistakes. How can I even begin to expect to be forgiven, when after countless opportunities to mend my ways, I fall into the same pattern of destructive habits?

It is here that the unseen Love of Christ becomes the only source of redemption and hope. Without the recognition of this love, it would be very easy to fall into a state of hopelessness and depression, thinking that all is lost and that I am doomed. It is the unseen, and yet most powerful, love of God that goes beyond all my wildest imaginings and offers me a path that leads straight back to Him. It is the unseen mercy that is able to look at me with the gentlest of eyes and tell me that everything is alright, that He loves me no matter what.

It is not always easy to feel that love. It was not easy today as I made my confession to the priest and received a pretty good scolding. It left me feeling disillusioned for some time. But having had some time to reflect on it, I’ve come to realise that an immense amount of love does not mean that the dispensation of teaching is neglected. Anyone who truly loves another will know that there are times when harsh words need to be said, and sometimes even a form of punishment. It is not out of anger or hatred, but out of extreme love that we wish our loved ones to be able to grow and become better people. It is only when we don’t care about the other that we ignore the well-being and development of the other. Anyone who truly loves knows that there are times when tough love is necessary.

It was on understanding this that I recognised the need for me to be chided. Perhaps I have been complacent, taking His love and mercy for granted. Perhaps the knowledge that each time I sinned, I could so easily have my sins forgiven and then repeat the whole cycle again. It took this scolding to knock some sense back into me. I recognise that I will probably still make the same mistake again somewhere down my life journey, but my fervent hope is that it will keep me in check and make me more aware of what I need to do.

And so, it is with a contrite heart that I sit down to type this today. The feeling of sadness continues to linger ever so slightly within me, knowing that the wrong I did could and should have been avoided. The sorrow of hurting Him again makes the night just that little bit lonelier; not that He has deserted me, more that I have strayed from Him.

But it is this unseen Love, this Love that I can’t see or touch, but this Love that I can feel right down into the deepest reaches of my soul that keeps me from falling into despair. It is this unfailing Love that makes me want to keep on trying to be better each day. It is this merciful Love that allows me to recognise and accept the forgiveness He offers me.

It is this unseen Love that enables me to truly see Him.

Recent times have brought up an intense period of understanding the difficulties that I and those close to me are going through at the moment. I’ve come to see a dear friend end a relationship barely a few months before the wedding; another friend struggling to make a decision that would essentially end one chapter of her life and start another; I see both my parents trying to come to terms with the situation that they currently find themselves in; I see myself desperately trying to make sense of my life and the path I hope to chart.

The past weekend made me come to a disturbing but necessary realisation of myself. Despite all that I have done in my life and the ’so-called’ contributions and participation in my various activities, I actually am not able to empathise with others in a manner consistent with my self-proclaimed principles. Two conflicts in a matter of two days, one full-blown and one much more subtle, brought to light the fact that while I claim it important and imperative for each one of us to understand the suffering and difficulties of others, I myself was not very capable of doing so. The concept of being strong for someone else is not one of my strong points. I’ve always thought that when the time comes, I would be able to do so effortlessly. After all, I’ve listened to so many people share their lives with me. How difficult could it be to just ‘be’ there for someone else and share their pain?

It was extremely difficult. And I admit that often enough during that time, I showed my displeasure and frustration at having to bear someone else’s burden. It didn’t make sense that because of the choices and mistakes of others, I had to sacrifice my time and energy to help them resolve the issues. It was tiring when the onus was on me to be there just because I was the most convenient person at the time. It hurt me that I was expected to do what needed to be done, just because. It angered me to be the casualty of war.

It was a painful moment after speaking to Melanie that made me come to that realisation. And it bothered me. In a way it still bothers me. I know that it will take time for me to find a way to do something about it. And due to my own temperament, I may not be able to do what I greatly desire to do, to learn to be truly empathetic towards others. But I know I want to at least try to do so. I know I want to at least make the effort.

Two articles I read recently strengthen me on this journey of mine. The first was from an article in The Herald titled Our Reason For Hope. Allow me to paraphrase this wonderful article since it is too long to be reproduced in its entirety:

Most of the time, we are not broken. We are just messy. Quite often we go about things in the wrong way. Quite often we approach God on our terms instead of his. Quite often we zig-zag in our approach to our final union with Him. Sometimes we think we are wonderful Christians, fantastic Catholics, when actually we are quite distorted. God sees us as we are, sees our messy spirituality, and still loves us.

In the movie, The Music Man, in the final scene, a group of children give their first band performance for their parents. They are horrible. It is a complete disaster, a cacophony. But their parents think they are wonderful. To their parents they are a fantastic marching band playing ‘Seventy-six Trombones.’ When you watch the movie, you first laugh at the band and the parents, then you realise that they are all trying their best.

God is like the people in the vast audiences. God hears the cacophony, but also sees the determined effort. The results may be messy, but the Loving Father joins the parents saying, “Wasn’t that just wonderful?”

We have a reason for hope. That reason is Jesus Christ. He loves us more than we can possibly imagine, each of us. He is not concerned with whether we produce the perfect result. He is overjoyed that we are trying to produce the perfect result. You and I have to have enough humility to have a good laugh at ourselves every now and then.  We have to trust in God to help us clean up the mess of our lives.

No matter what happened in the past. No matter what crises we are dealing with right now. No matter what we might face in the future, we have reason for hope. And if anyone comes to us and says, “How can you be so optimistic?” We respond, “The Love of the Lord is real for us. May his love also be real for you.”

The second comes for The Word Among Us which contains an article about St. Camillus, the saint of the first Red Cross society. It speaks of St. Camillus starting of his early years as a wild teenager, rushing off into the army and basically doing everything wrong. The paragraphs below come from a point in his life after his conversion, when he still felt himself unworthy:

Twice in those challenging early years, Camillus heard Jesus encouraging him to persevere: “Why are you troubled, you coward? Go on and I will help you, for this is my work and not yours.”

Camillus was keenly aware of his faults and sincerely believed that he was a great and undeserving sinner. At the same time, he had absolute confidence in the Father’s mercy, revealed in Jesus’ death.

And so, I the coward, trusting in His great mercy and love, continue to do His work. I may not know exactly what I need to do, but it is the only one that makes sense.