a bruised reed he will not break, a smoldering wick he will not quench. Mt. 12:20
About Me
- bruised reed
- just shooting questions to the universe and hoping that when the right time comes I will receive some answers, or if not, I will be given something to enrich my life.
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
The Gift
A gift is always undeserved; otherwise, it would be called a prize. What makes something a gift is, it is unconditional; otherwise, it is an exchange.
This Christmas, let us pause for a while and think whether the gifts that we give or the gifts that we receive are truly gifts. Are they unconditional?
Christmas shows us what a true gift is: God, choosing to assume human nature, and choosing the most helpless and the most marginalized form of all: a little child, born of poor and ordinary parents, in a foreign land.
We don't deserve this gift, but it comes from the abundance of God's love for us. We don't need to work for it. That's just how God's logic operates.
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
Pray
Pray ... pray ... pray ...
Prayer helps us remember that we are not at the center of the world. The world has existed before us and will continue to exist long after we're gone.
Prayer reminds us that, though we may seem small and insignificant, we are a part of something great. Prayer helps us to care and to be concerned about something other than ourselves.
Prayer gives us a solid ground to navigate the uncertainties of life. As we address ourselves to Someone (up there, or deep within, or ever-present in everything), we experience a companionship with Someone (to be grateful to, to bombard with our complaints, to share our struggles and doubts).
Pray.
Tuesday, December 4, 2018
Keep it within
What Mary did not understand, she "kept within her heart".
Our life is made up of events and circumstances. What makes them a story is the memory of the heart; for it is only the heart that can weave into a story seemingly random and unimportant events and instances.
Our life is made up of events and circumstances. What makes them a story is the memory of the heart; for it is only the heart that can weave into a story seemingly random and unimportant events and instances.
Saturday, December 1, 2018
Autumn
The bare branches echo the call from within to let go.
The fallen leaves reflect the burden of the non-essentials that eventually I will have to let go.
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