Life's Images

Facing My Biggest Fear

2026-06-10T23:00:00.000+02:00

For two long weeks, I wore a mask. I smiled, I talked, and I mingled with the people around me, going through the motions of my daily routine as if everything were fine. But beneath that normal exterior, a quiet storm was raging inside me. Deep down, I couldn't pretend anymore. I was terrified.

It all began with a routine GP appointment. I had been experiencing a persistent, uncomfortable bloating in my upper abdomen, which finally prompted me to see the doctor. The GP asked me to provide a stool sample for routine testing. I didn't think much of it, until the text message arrived.

The words on the screen of my NHS app made my heart drop: Results forwarded to the hospital for further laboratory testing. Traces of blood detected. To rule out colorectal cancer, the doctor wrote, I needed to undergo an urgent colonoscopy.

Fear hit me instantly. I knew absolutely nothing about the procedure, but the sudden, overwhelming shadow of a possible cancer diagnosis at this specific chapter of my life felt crushing. In less than a month, I would be turning 50. Our calendar was packed with scheduled activities for Couples for Christ (CFC), and we had a long-awaited family holiday to Split, Croatia planned for the end of July. The sudden thought of being diagnosed with a terminal illness or being rushed into a major surgery that would shatter all of these beautiful plans began to consume my mind.

I have never feared death itself. Every single person on this earth will eventually get there; it is simply a matter of time and order. As a Catholic, I hold tightly to the unwavering faith that there is eternal life awaiting us. I believe with all my soul that at the end of time, the dead will resurrect to live under the eternal kingship of our Lord Jesus Christ. But even with a faith that deep, a different kind of terror crept in: the fear of leaving behind my loved ones. The thought of abandoning my wife and children was the one fear that completely eclipsed the fear of dying.

By the day of the colonoscopy, my nerves were tensed. The preparation the day before had been an ordeal in itself, skipping meals entirely and drinking rounds of powerful laxatives to completely clear my bowels. The physical discomfort of intense hunger combined with endless trips to the bathroom was exhausting. Yet, I knew I had to follow the instructions perfectly, or the procedure would be canceled, prolonging the agonizing wait.

I knew my wife was carrying her own heavy burden of worry, but she is a pillar of strength. Suppressing her own nervousness, she held me close and prayed over me in front of our altar before I left the house. Her anxiety was real, but her faith was enormous.

On my way to the hospital, the bus and the overground train became my chapel. I prayed fervently, completely surrendering my fate into His hands. Deep in my spirit, a quiet whisper told me that He still had a plan for me. I felt that my service to Him was not yet completed, that my mission as His servant was far from accomplished, and that there was still much work left for me to do in His vineyard. There were still blessings in store for me, and gifts I had yet to open. He wasn't done with me yet. But even as these reassuring thoughts filled my mind, I anchored myself in total surrender, praying, "Let your will be done, Lord."

When the moment arrived, the procedure itself went smoothly. I chose to be sedated, and honestly, I felt absolutely no pain or discomfort. In fact, I found myself fascinated, watching the TV monitor as the tiny camera traveled inside my body. The procedure was over in what felt like minutes, largely because the NHS medical team including three wonderful Filipinos, specialist and nurses, were incredibly gentle, caring, and professional. A massive kudos to the dedicated Filipino healthcare workers in the NHS; their warmth made a daunting room feel safe.

Then came the immediate relief. The specialist looked at the findings: there was absolutely nothing to worry about. No cancer.

In an instant, the heavy weight lifted from my chest. Once again, the power of faith manifested itself in my life. The Lord gave me another beautiful chance to prove myself to Him, to continue the path I have started, to be faithful and to remain always at His service.

This trial taught me that the Lord never fails. We simply have to cling to Him and trust Him completely when we hit the ground where our faith is tested. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of my life, my family, and my future. Indeed, health is wealth. I love You Lord more today than ever before!

A Lenten Encounter at Greggs

2026-02-21T23:00:00.002+01:00

I have a story to tell - one of those moments where God decides to communicate with me in the most mysterious and undeniable ways.

As Catholics, we have once again entered the season of Lent. It is a holy time of sacrifice, a season where we are called to fast, give alms, and repent for our wrongdoings through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. This year, I wanted to take it seriously.

It was the first Friday of Lent. As an adult Catholic, the rules were clear: abstain from meat and limit myself to one regular meal and two smaller ones. My personal plan was even more ambitious: I decided to skip lunch entirely and avoid any snacks in between. For me, this is incredibly difficult. Even on a normal day when I eat a full lunch, I struggle to make it to the end of the workday. My knees often buckle and my hands begin to shake from hunger - perhaps a physical reality of being obese and needing to lose weight. I admit that struggle freely.

That morning, I prepared myself. I stopped at Greggs for my small meal - a cup of coffee and a croissant. Every morning, it is my habit to pray, and read the daily Mass readings (the First Reading, the Psalm, and the Gospel) before sharing the Gospel of the day with my CFC (Couples for Christ) unit household chat group. For me, reading the Scriptures and meditation in my prayers are the primary ways God speaks to me.

I found a table, knowing I had only 15 minutes before my train arrived. I was just about to open my Hallow app when a man walked into the shop and caught my attention.

He wore a hoodie and looked weary, carrying the kind of exhaustion that goes deeper than just a lack of sleep. He approached the counter and quietly asked the staff for the prices of the pastries and coffee. When he heard the total, he paused. He didn’t order anything. Instead, he walked over to a table and sat down, empty-handed.

In that moment, my heart twinged. It was clear he didn’t have enough money for breakfast. I felt a nudge - the Lord touching my heart to approach him. Usually, I would ignore that voice. I’d be afraid he might take me for granted or react violently. I’d tell myself it’s better to just mind my own business.

But that day, the feeling was different. It was persistent.

I walked over and offered to buy him whatever he wanted. He looked at me, eyes wide with disbelief. He asked me twice if I was sure. Eventually, he chose a simple cup of coffee and a sausage roll. After I handed them to him, he shook my hand firmly. "It’s rare that someone offers a stranger breakfast," he said. He then called me "brother."

Feeling a sense of quiet joy, I returned to my table to finish my croissant. I had five minutes left before I had to run for my train. I opened my Hallow app to finally read the Word.

The First Reading was Isaiah 58:1-9a.

As I read, I felt the air leave my lungs. It was a powerful, uncomfortable, and direct call from God to move away from "rituals" and toward "justice." The words hit me like a physical weight:

"Is this not the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness... to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house?"

The Lord was telling me: You are fasting, but you are still procrastinating. You are abstaining from food, but are you abstaining from indifference? God’s message was piercingly clear: He isn’t impressed by how miserable I look during a fast or how loud my stomach growls. He is interested in how I treat my neighbour when the "general prayer assembly" is over. True fasting is justice. True fasting is empathy. True fasting is refusing to hide yourself from your own flesh by ignoring those who really needs our help.

I sat there on the brink of tears. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence. I had been worried about skipping lunch to prove my devotion, but God showed me a better way. I had done more for my soul by feeding a weary stranger than I ever could have by bracing stressfully my way through hunger while keeping my heart closed.

Isaiah 58 reminds me that spiritual disciplines like fasting and prayer are not the finish line. They are tools meant to soften our hearts so we can actually see the world’s pain. If our spirituality doesn't make us more compassionate, it’s just a noise.

I realized that day that God would rather have you eat a fried chicken and treat people with kindness than skip lunch and remain indifferent to suffering.

Lord, thank you for your voice. I hear you.

By the way, I took the featured photo for this blog last year in Barcelona. It depicts 'Homeless Jesus' (or Jesus without a roof), a sculpture located in Santa Anna Square within the Ciutat Vella district, right in front of the Church of Santa Anna.

Lobster Tortellini and a Winter Coat

2026-02-18T21:30:00.005+01:00

They say procrastination is the thief of time, but on Valentine’s Day, it’s mostly just the thief of dinner reservations.

I’ll admit it: I’ve become a "last-minute guy." The transformation is hard to explain. I used to be the "Itinerary King" - the man who organized family trips, booking flights and colour-coding schedules months in advance. But this year? I failed to see Valentine’s Day coming, even though it’s been on the same date for, well, forever.

My original plan was simple: a romantic, candlelit fine-dining experience with my wife. I found the perfect spot - a gorgeous restaurant with an actual tree inside the dining room. I could already see the "Husband of the Year" trophy. Then, I tried to book it. Fully booked.

I moved to my second choice. Fully booked. My third? Full. I even went back to the restaurants I had previously snubbed for being "not good enough," and even they turned me away. That’s when the realization hit: trying to book a table 24 hours before Valentine’s Day is like trying to find a quiet spot at a rock concert. It’s just not going to happen.

As I sat there staring at the screen of my PC full of "No Availability", I had a realization. Why limit the love to just the two of us? St. Valentine may have sacrificed his life for the commitment of young couples, but surely he wouldn’t mind if I invited the whole gang. Love and sacrifice, right? My sacrifice was the romantic candlelit dream; my love was for my entire family.

I fired off a message to the family WhatsApp group: "Hello there my kids.. Do you have appointments tomorrow night.. I'm planning a family date" By some miracle, the kids didn't have plans yet. The "Family Date" was officially on!

Against all odds, I secured a table for four at our local Prezzo. We all dressed up, feeling sharp and ready for a lovely Saturday night. The ambiance was great, the company was better, and the food was genuinely delicious. I’m still thinking about the crab and lobster tortellini I ordered - absolutely top-tier.

However, there was one uninvited guest at our table: a mysterious, freezing breeze.

I don’t know where it was coming from, but it felt like we were dining on the slopes of the Alps. My wife complained to the waitress, who politely checked with her manager, but the cool draft remained. In the end, my wife spent the entire romantic dinner bundled up in her winter coat.

I’d like to think the restaurant wasn't doing it on purpose to make us finish faster, but let’s just say we didn’t linger over desserts and coffee (we did it outside in a Mc Donalds not far away). If I go back (and I will for that pasta!), I’m requesting a table far, far away from the "Arctic" section.

Every event in life has something to teach us. Perfection is a myth; even the most beautiful evening usually has a tiny flaw hiding in the shadows or blowing in from the vents.

But looking around that table, watching my wife and two children laugh together, I realized that a "perfect" time isn't about the lighting or the booking lead time. It’s about the memory. A family date like this is a once-in-a-lifetime snapshot of where we are right now.

Valentine’s Day is the "Day of the Heart." This year, mine is completely full because I remembered what it's actually made of: an everlasting love for my wife and kids.

A Journey Through the Heart

2026-01-17T12:21:00.006+01:00

There is a certain weight in the air today, a quiet heaviness I can’t quite shake. I don’t want to admit that it’s simply the passage of time, or the realization that my "prime" might be behind me, but sometimes the reality of aging is hard to hold. Maybe it was a video reel I stumbled across on Facebook that did it - one of those clips that reaches into the archives of your life and pulls everything back to the surface.

The blogger in the video asked a simple, piercing question: "If you were given the chance to go back to 1998 and stay there for a while, would you ever come back to the present?"

That question hit me like a wave. Suddenly, I wasn't just scrolling; I was reflecting. I was remembering the faces of the people who shaped me - my friends, my family, and the loved ones who are no longer here.

For me, 1998 was the year the world truly opened up. It was the year I graduated from college. I remember the independence of renting a small studio apartment in Batangas City, learning for the first time how to navigate the world on my own. I was juggling the demands of my final year of studies with the complexities of a personal relationship. I’m proud of that version of myself - the one who managed to graduate with honours without losing the capacity to love.

Back then, "me time" was a deliberate choice, not something squeezed between notifications. I remember the simple joy of choosing between a PBA game on the TV, a PC game, or just lying on my bed listening to my favourite songs on a cassette tape. Yes, I had a whole collection of them!

When the walls of the apartment felt too small, I would walk through the city at night. I can still smell the smoke of the "barbecue" and "isaw" at the street food stalls. Dinner was often just a plate of white rice and a can of fried sardines or corned beef, though nothing could beat a meal at the local carinderia. And the mornings? They were a choice between the classic pandesal, a warm bonete, or a steaming plate of Lucky Me instant pancit canton.

Life wasn't complicated then. We didn't have mobile phones or social media. There were no Zoom meetings, no Youtube, no Messenger, and no Whatsapp - yet, we were so happy. We appreciated the small things because we had to be present to experience them. I honestly don't know how we coordinated everything back then, but we did. Communication felt more intentional; interaction was physical and real. Sometimes, I deeply miss the version of myself that wasn't tied up to a phone 24/7.

As these memories flashed back, they brought a sharp, deep ache in my heart. I thought of my late Ate Zening, my loving aunt. I used to tell her all my dreams, always imagining she would be there to see them come true. I miss her deeply. I thought of my Dad, too. If I could take that trip back to 1998, I wouldn’t just go for the nostalgia; I’d go to spend more time with him. I’d talk more, bond more, and hold onto those moments just a little longer.

They say death is the inevitable opposite of life, but I believe life is a gift given by God for a reason. Every life is purpose-driven and meant to be cherished. Where there is life, there is hope; and where there is hope, there is love - because the One who gave us this world is God and God is love.

I’ve realized today that it’s okay to linger in the past for a moment. It’s okay to get emotional. Without our "then," there is no "now." We are the products of our history. As the saying goes, before we can be molded, we must first be melted.

So, yes... I am emotional today. My mind is full of ghosts and golden memories. But I am also happy. There is a healing power in putting these feelings into words. Let’s cherish this life - and each other - while we still can.

A New Chapter Of My Life

2026-01-03T17:40:00.004+01:00

As a new year begins, I find myself standing at the starting line once again, armed with a fresh set of goals. I’m leaning into hope this time. Hoping that this year won’t just be a repeat of the last, but a genuine step forward. I want to improve, even if it’s just one small habit at a time.

The Wins: Feeding the Mind

One resolution I actually stuck to last year was diving into books and audiobooks. I managed to finish 10 titles, which feels like a massive accomplishment! In the middle of a hectic daily routine, being able to carve out time for a story or a new perspective is a gift. It’s a relief to know I’ve made my brain work a little harder, choosing a page or a chapter over the mindless and endless scrolling of my phone. This year, I’m aiming to beat that score.

The Struggles: The Creative Block

I went into last year thinking I’d write much more for this blog, but the posts were few and far between. The inspiration just wasn't there. Looking back, there were so many moments and events that would have made for beautiful journal entries, but laziness or perhaps just the slowing down that comes with age won the day. Sometimes, I just want to do nothing. However, I’m wishing for more productivity this year. I want to try writing more, even if it’s just for a change of pace.

The Hurdles: Health and the "Spark"

My biggest "fail" was my health. I started last year at 110kg with a goal to reach 90kg, but I didn't lose a single stone. I’m still 110kg today. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but I have to be honest: how can I expect to lose weight if I didn't truly commit to a diet?

My attempts at physical activity were equally short-lived. I tried Saturday morning workouts with a friend, but after three weeks, I chose sleep instead. Waking up early is a sacrifice I just wasn't ready to make. I told myself I’d go to the gym after work, but my body usually demanded a warm dinner and the comfort of home instead. Even after buying new basketball shoes and hitting the court for a couple of Sundays, the motivation fizzled out.

This year, I’m not making any grand promises. I’m simply looking for a "spark" that extra bit of motivation to get moving. I’m still hopeful it will come.

The Horizon: Travel and Soul-Searching

For some reason, I feel a deep pull to travel this year. We already have some wonderful plans in motion. A pilgrimage to Fatima, Portugal on March, a weekend escape to Wales on April and a family holiday in Croatia on the summer.

I’m genuinely excited. I think my body and soul are calling me to disconnect from the daily grind and explore the wonders of God’s creation. I often wish for a sabbatical year, a time to completely unplug from jobs and bills, but I know that’s a big ask.

Final Thoughts: A Heart Full of Joy

Despite the goals I missed, I know I am incredibly lucky. I am blessed with the miracle of life, good health, a wonderful wife, and lovely children. I have a job that sustains us in an expensive city like London, and a community where God continues to use me to serve others.

I am happy. My heart is filled with joy, and I am hopeful for what this new year has to offer. I’m ready to grab every opportunity that comes my way.

24 Years of Us

2025-12-26T15:20:00.001+01:00

We celebrated our 24th wedding anniversary with a simple, quiet dinner at Nando’s. Even with Christmas just around the corner, my wife and I both worked a full day, meeting at the restaurant once the sun had set. We weren’t alone for long, though; we were joined by Kayla, Keiron, and Kayla’s boyfriend, James, who traveled all the way from Monaco to spend a few days with us.

While it was wonderful to have the kids and our guest there, the heart of the night belonged to us. We are standing on the doorstep of a major milestone, next year marks our Silver Wedding Anniversary.

As I reminisce about the years we’ve spent as a married couple, I’m filled with a feeling I can’t quite put into words. It has been a long road paved with struggles, patience, and sacrifice. We were young when we said "I do," and yet every challenge we faced only served to make us stronger.

Our patience has been tested more times than I can count, but it always rose above our disagreements and our pride. We sacrificed a lot to build the family we have today. It has been a journey that brought us to this beautiful point where it feels like nothing and no one could ever separate us. We started as best friends, and I am so grateful that we remain exactly that today.

We aren’t a perfect couple. We’ve had our ups and downs, our arguments, and our differences. But the beauty of our relationship lies in our ability to find a middle ground. In our home, there is forgiveness instead of resentment, acceptance instead of mere tolerance, love as our foundation and God at the very center of it all. Having God in the middle of our marriage provides the balance we need to navigate life's storms.

I hope that next year, I’ll be sitting down to blog about our 25th anniversary. Perhaps celebrating with a grand party surrounded by all our family and friends. I pray to the Lord for continued health for my wife and me, our children, and our loved ones.

Here’s to being alive, being together, and looking forward to another 25 years of love. To 24 years down, and a lifetime to go!

From Tiny Steps to a Cap and Gown

2025-11-03T22:00:00.005+01:00

Today is one of the happiest moments of my life. It is my daughter Kayla’s graduation day, and I find myself unable to contain my emotions. I have cried tears of pure joy today because, finally, after all these years of hard work, she has finished her studies.

As I watched her, I couldn't help but remember the days when she was just a little girl. I remembered bringing her to school and picking her up every afternoon. It feels like only yesterday that she was small enough for me to carry on my shoulders. I smiled thinking about the "constant battle" it was to bring her home from her grandparents' house because she loved staying there so much.

One of my favourite memories is racing her and her brother, Keiron, from the nearest Tube station to our house. We would sprint home just to have lunch together, and in those moments, I wished the noon-time races would never end.

Of course, it wasn't always easy. I recall the days I had to scold her for not finishing her assignments or the times her teachers wanted to speak with me. I remember the late nights spent preparing her for the Carnaval—whether it was crafting a bespoke costume or helping her with her makeup. Then there were the calls from the principal about her "little accidents." From bumps on the head and scratched knees to simple ankle sprains, she was always so prone to accidents!

But through all the scrapes and the scoldings, she always shone. I will never forget the way she stood out among the other students, especially when she would sing in front of a crowd. I will cherish those memories as long as I live.

Today, she accomplished her mission. I always told her, “Finish your studies; that is the one task I want you to complete.” It wasn't always a smooth road, but she did it.

Now, my prayer is that she continues to dream—and to dream big. This stage of her life isn't the end; it’s just the beginning of something huge. I pray for her happiness, for her success, and that she enters this next chapter with a bright spirit and endless enthusiasm.

May the Lord bless her and keep her always. May He make His face shine upon her and guide her on this new journey. The journey that is life.

The Call to Serve in CFC: A Journey of Faith and Humility

2025-09-13T12:57:00.046+02:00

I just want to share with you our sharing in the last CFC Mission Core Group Online Gathering for the month of September. This is our journey as leaders in CFC Couples For Christ.

Francis: Good evening, brothers and sisters! May the peace and love of our Lord be with you all! I am Bro. Francis Chua and my loving wife, Sis. Mavic Chua. We are one of the unit leaders in CFC London A Chapter.

We are here before you tonight to share a journey — one that has spanned over two decades in Couples For Christ. It is a story not of merits or titles, but of a profound lesson that God has etched into our hearts: true leadership is about serving with love and humility. We've learned to silence the voice that seeks recognition and, instead, focus on the one thing that truly matters: deepening our relationship with God and with all of you, our brethren.

Our journey began in 1996 when I completed the Christian Life Program (CLP) for Singles For Christ (SFC) in Batangas City. My future wife, however, became an SFC member two years later in Barcelona in 1998. After graduating from college, I moved to Spain in 1999. It was there, serving in the church choir, that our paths finally crossed.

Mavic: As we became more active in SFC, our roles in the community brought us closer. I was the unit head of SFC that time, and he was one of my household leaders. Our time together led to intimate conversations, and soon, our friendship blossomed into a beautiful romance.

In 2001, we were married and began our service as a couple in Couples For Christ. We started as members, but God had bigger plans. Just one year later, we were called to lead as CFC household leaders.

While serving as household leaders, we were given the opportunity to serve in our youngest ministry, Kids For Christ (KFC), as couple coordinators for five years. We cherished the memories we shared with the kids and the younger generations. We led a team to the European Kids Village (EKV) held in Rome, Italy; Marseilles, France; and Frankfurt, Germany. We also attended several European conferences and leaders' training.

Working with our senior and junior kids required a lot of patience and humility. We learned that to deal effectively with parents and guardians, one must set aside their ego.

Francis: In 2006, we were discerned to be the Chapter Leaders in our area. At that time, CFC in Barcelona was just one area, so I was the Area Head. It was a challenging role. As Chapter Leaders, we were also the mission and support coordinators, handling the finances, the tithes and other administrative tasks for CFC Barcelona. We managed everything well until a storm hit our community in 2007.

That was when CFC was divided into two groups: CFC GLOBAL (our present CFC) and CFC FFL (now MFC, Missionaries For Christ). We had to make a difficult decision: align ourselves with only one group.

During our General Assembly, where we had to make a decision, the governance team recommended that the assembly choose CFC GLOBAL based on a prior vote. The body then voted to decide which group to align with. Out of more than 70 attendees, only four members voted against the recommendation, making it a majority decision to choose CFC GLOBAL. Everything seemed to go well until the closing prayer, when the four members voiced their decision not to join us. They said they had to align themselves with the other group.

It was very hard for me to accept this. My aim was to maintain the unity of the group, and I felt it was my failure that CFC Barcelona was divided. I was heartbroken and cried a lot. However, this experience was a clear reminder that our ways are not always God's ways and that He has other plans. It humbled me to realize that even when we are in a leadership position, the Lord is always in control and will decide what is best for His people. With humility, we were able to accept the reality that we would be two separate groups journeying toward holiness.

Mavic: After our term as Chapter Leaders, we were called to a new mission: serving as the SFC Coordinators for three years. As members of the governance team, our most challenging and humbling task was opening a new area in Girona, a province in Catalunya. We also became the Area Coordinator of Girona, traveling there twice a month to look after our new brethren.

Just one year later, we celebrated a monumental victory for God's kingdom. We convinced three couples — all of whom were Protestants (Seventh Day Adventist) — to take their sacred marriage vows in a "kasalang bayan," or community wedding sponsored by Couples For Christ Barcelona. This wasn't just an achievement; it was a testament to the power of our shared faith.

An accomplishment like this could have easily led us to seek praise and acknowledgment, but it taught us a more profound lesson: our purpose is not to chase glory for ourselves but to serve others for the glory of God alone.

Francis: In 2016, I made the difficult decision to leave Barcelona for London, seeking what many call "greener pastures." But leaving wasn't just about a new job; it was about leaving behind my service and the community of CFC that I had poured my life into.

The timing made it even harder. The top leadership was in the process of restructuring the national governance of Spain, and I knew I was a strong candidate to become the Country Head. The temptation to stay and to lead was powerful.

Yet, once again, God called me to a deeper level of humility. He asked me to let go of everything I had established and to return to the very beginning. To go back to basics. I had to surrender my plans and the position I could have had. This was a test of faith, a moment where I had to choose God's path over my own.

While I was in London, my wife continued to serve as the coordinator for the Handmaids of the Lord in Barcelona. In 2018, she and our children made the brave move to join me. The transition was a difficult one for all of us, but we eventually settled into our new life and began a new adventure together in London.

Mavic: As a couple in London, we began as members in a new CFC household. After years of juggling countless responsibilities in Spain, this period felt like a "honeymoon" in service — a chance to simply focus on our household and our own spiritual growth.

But our “honeymoon” was short-lived. Just one year later, we were called to become Household Leaders, and a year after that, we took on the roles of Unit Leaders for the London A Chapter. As if that weren't enough, I also now serve as the Chapter Head of the Handmaids of the Lord.

Truly, God has been so good to us. Through every twist and turn of our journey in the CFC community, He has drilled one powerful lesson into our hearts: leadership is about being a servant. This isn't just a role; it's a calling to serve, not to be served. It's a humbling act that strips away the need for recognition and replaces it with a burning desire to know God's will above our own.

Francis: If we were to step back or turn away from the community, someone else would take our place because this is not our work; it is the Lord's work. God’s work will continue, and CFC will continue, regardless of whether we are in or out. Long after we are gone — from this generation to generations yet to come! CFC will continue! God is great, all the time!

May God be praised!

A Step Back in Time

2025-08-27T23:00:00.006+02:00

Last Saturday, my family and I took our first-ever trip to Canterbury. We set out with a simple goal: to dive deep into the roots of one of the UK’s most storied and historic cities.

Walking through Canterbury feels like stepping directly into the Middle Ages. The city’s core is a labyrinth of timber-framed buildings and cobblestone streets that have stood the test of time.

We began our morning at the iconic Canterbury Cathedral. While we opted to admire it from the outside (the entry fee for a family can be a bit steep!), the Gothic facade is nothing short of breathtaking. As a UNESCO World Heritage site, it’s best known as the site of the infamous 1170 AD assassination of St. Thomas Becket, the Archbishop who clashed with King Henry II. Even from the precinct, you can feel the weight of centuries of pilgrimage.

Next, we visited the Catholic Church of St. Thomas of Canterbury. This was a hidden gem—entry was free, and the interior was deeply moving. We were fortunate enough to see the relics of St. Thomas Becket, including a piece of his bone and a fragment of his burial vestment.

Surprisingly, the church also houses a relic of St. Oscar Romero, a garment he wore during Mass. Seeing such significant artifacts in such an intimate setting was a powerful experience for all of us.

After lunch, we took to the water for a River Stour cruise. Floating down the river for an hour offered a unique perspective of the city. Our guide was wonderful, expertly balancing hard historical facts with the local "gossip" and legends that make Canterbury’s past feel alive.

We made sure not to miss Greyfriars Chapel, which holds the distinction of being the first Franciscan monastery built in England (dating back to 1267). It’s a unique structure, famously built right over a branch of the river. Inside we explored a room that had been converted into a prison cell in later years. We ended our historical tour with a peaceful stroll through the surrounding Franciscan gardens.

It was a fulfilling day for the four of us. Between the history, a bit of essential shopping, and some great local food, the trip was a perfect mix of education and entertainment. I’m certain Kayla and Keiron enjoyed the experience just as much as me and my wife did.

We’re already looking forward to our next family adventure. Where should we head next?

Reflections on my 49th Birthday

2025-07-15T23:00:00.002+02:00

This past Sunday, I celebrated another year of life in this world. It was a simple but meaningful celebration. My wife, our two children, and I shared a meal at SteakOut, a steak house in Harrow.

I chose steak for my birthday because it serves as a powerful reminder of my journey. I remember 2016, when I lived alone here in London, far from my family. Back then, I could only enjoy a steak when I found one at a "reduced price" at Tesco. I had to strictly limit my expenses as I planned and prepared to bring my family here. I remember one specific time when tears fell as I ate; I was overwhelmed by how good it tasted after so long without it.

Eating steak now is a choice to remember. It brings back those memories of sacrifice and the long road that led us to where we are today.

Kidding aside, I am so grateful for the countless blessings I have received. The Lord has been so generous to me throughout my 49 years on earth. In just one more year, I will reach the milestone of 50.

First and foremost, I thank God for my health and for the gift of life itself. I am in awe of how every part of my body functions as one.

My Heart: It has never failed to beat continuously for 49 years. “Heart, if you hear me, please don’t get tired of beating.”

My Blood: Flowing through every part and system of my body. “Blood, flow smoothly... no highs... no lows... just smoothly.”

My Brain: Which allows me to think and do both wondrous and silly things at the same time. “Brain, it's fine to be anxious... just don't be damaged.”

My Lungs: They never tire of pumping air in and out to keep me breathing. “Lungs, inhale... exhale...”

I thank the Lord for all my internal organs, big and small, each working toward a specific purpose to make my whole being function perfectly. I thank Him for being one of His unique creations. I can proudly say, "I am created in His own image and likeness." Though I am unworthy, I thank God for adopting me as His son and allowing me to share in His divinity. Thank you, Lord!

I am so blessed to have my family. I have a wife who is incredibly loving and caring. My two children, Kayla and Keiron, are my constant inspiration—the reason I continue to move forward and work hard every day.

I am grateful for the job that sustains us and allows me to provide for them. I embrace the role of being a father who protects his family and the "priest" who leads them in worship and our shared Catholic faith. I am truly overwhelmed by these blessings.

As I look forward to my 50th birthday next year, I pray that the Lord will continue to guide me, bless me, and let His face shine upon me.

I love you, Lord, with all my heart, mind, and soul. Keep me strong. Keep me well. Keep me alive. I am yours, and You are mine!

Like Father, Like Son

2025-07-05T18:03:00.001+02:00

Last Wednesday wasn't just another workday. I left the office early, heart racing with anticipation, to attend my son Keiron’s Year 12 Award Ceremony. It was a beautiful evening dedicated to celebrating the achievements and presentations of the entire year group. My wife and I both rushed from our respective jobs, arriving just in time to join Kayla in the audience. We were all buzzing with excitement, waiting to see Keiron receive the recognition he worked so hard for.

He did an absolutely incredible job. Being there to witness that milestone was a memory I will carry with me forever.

I am so deeply proud of Keiron. This year, the transition into Sixth Form is no small feat, and he tackled the challenge head-on. He walked away with several awards and a £100 Amazon voucher, a well-deserved recognition of the progress and sheer effort he poured into his studies. He truly outdid himself!

I can’t quite put into words the rush of emotions I felt during the ceremony. I found myself fighting back tears as I watched that young man walk across the stage. In that moment, it was like looking into a mirror. I was reminded of my own graduations from high school and university, receiving medals and awards for academic excellence.

"I am indeed his father; there’s no denying the DNA. The apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree."

This young man never ceases to amaze me. To be honest, I rarely see him buried in books or assignments at home, more often than not, he’s glued to his mobile phone! Yet, he never fails to perform. He navigates his examinations with a natural talent that leaves me in awe.

But the most beautiful change I’ve witnessed this year isn't found in a textbook. I’ve watched Keiron transform from a reserved, introverted lad who kept to himself into a young man who is opening his heart to the world. For a long time, he preferred his phone over mingling with peers, but something clicked after he attended the YFC conference.

It was like a spark was lit. In an instant, his personality shifted. He opened the door of his life to people his own age and began to truly communicate. He is becoming a better version of himself, someone willing to learn, to listen, and to explore.

I love him more than words can say. My prayer for him is that the Lord continues to guide and bless him every single day. I pray for his protection wherever he goes, and that God continues to "melt and mold" him into the incredible man he is destined to be.

Good job, Keiron! Keep up the hard work, son. I promise you, every bit of effort will be worth it in the end. God bless you!

When the Body Slows, the Soul Wakes Up

2025-06-21T20:00:00.000+02:00

I've reached a stage in my life where I'm no longer concerned with my career. What matters most to me now is cherishing every moment I have with my family, living in the present, and creating memorable experiences. Time is indeed a precious gift, and it's humbling to realize that it's running out—not in the sense that I'm dying, but in the sense that getting old can be challenging to cope with. I'm starting to feel more frequent toothaches, it's easier to gain weight than to lose it, and I'm becoming tired more often from a simple walk. My body just can't keep up with what my brain wants to do anymore. I think aging is taking a toll on me physically, but mentally, my mind remains strong.

I believe our health is directly proportional to time; when your health fails, your time is up. That's why I feel the need to make the best of the time I have left and not wait until retirement to enjoy life. My dad passed away just four years after he retired, and he spent the last year of his life almost bedridden. Waiting for retirement to start experiencing a quality life is a big mistake. We need to live in the present and cherish the time we have with our family and loved ones. We shouldn't dwell on the past or live with regrets about what we haven't accomplished, nor should we worry about the future and its uncertainties. Instead, we should enjoy our present moments while they last.

To those of you in your late 40s, our prime may have passed, but our minds are still strong and in control. It's never too late. Do what you love to do today and don't delay! There's still time left as long as we have our present. Live to the fullest.

With all this in mind, we must never forget that God is the one who made us. He is the one who gave us this precious time and these moments. He made us who we are today and gave us everything we have in our lives. That's why in all the things that we do, we should offer them to God Almighty. Prioritize Him and spend more time with Him. At the end of our day here on earth, at our very last breath, that will be the start of our very first breath in heaven. Eternal life is waiting for us. That is the goal we should all be striving for: a life with Jesus, the King of Glory, forever!

The Little Way: A Big Miracle

2025-06-11T23:00:00.005+02:00

I have always believed in miracles. To me, they are more than just stories; they are gifts of the Holy Spirit. Yet, for most of my life, I felt like a spectator—waiting for an event that I could truly call my own "miracle." Of course, I know that simply waking up with a functioning body and a beating heart is a miracle in itself, but I was searching for that extraordinary spark—a moment of undeniable divine intervention.

Then came last Sunday.

My wife and I began our morning at our local parish, St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Harrow. There is a specific kind of peace that comes with the Sunday Eucharist; it is a blessing that feels new every single week. After the Mass, a quiet nudge in my heart led me to the parish shop. I was looking for something specific: a small figurine of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the "Little Flower."

I’ve always felt a deep connection to her. In fact, I even named our Unit Household WhatsApp group after her. Her philosophy—the "Little Way"—has become my own guiding principle: the idea that doing small, seemingly insignificant things with great love can lead to holiness. I wanted a small image of her to keep on my altar as a constant reminder of that humility.

Unfortunately, the lady at the counter shook her head. They didn't have any. I walked out feeling a sting of disappointment, wondering why such a simple request felt so out of reach.

Later that afternoon, duty called again. We are part of the choir at St. Patrick’s Catholic Church in West Hendon, and we were scheduled for the 6:00 PM Mass. I’ll admit, a small, tired part of me thought, Two Masses in one day? Is that too much? But we love our service, so we pushed through the fatigue and went.

The moment I stepped through the doors of St. Patrick’s, my heart stopped.

There, on a small table right at the entrance, sat a figurine of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. Beside it was a sign: "Feel free to take the statue. It's complimentary."

I stood there, completely perplexed. In the morning, I was willing to pay for a tiny, humble version of her. By the afternoon, the Lord was giving me a beautiful, large statue for free.

Some might call it a coincidence. But consider the odds: of all the thousands of saints in the Church, and of all the days someone could have chosen to leave that gift behind, it happened on the very day I was searching for her. It wasn’t a chance; it was a personal message. It was a miracle.

I took a photo of her right then and there. This encounter is now forever engraved in my soul—a tangible manifestation of His love. I went looking for a small reminder of faith, and He gave me something much bigger.

Miracles happen every day, from the moment we open our eyes to the moment we rest our tired bodies. Sometimes, you just have to keep walking until you find the one waiting for you at the door.

St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus has a home now. Please pray for us!

Pilgrims of Hope

2025-05-31T15:22:00.012+02:00

2025 is a monumental Year of Grace for the Catholic Church. Occurring only once every quarter-century, this Holy Jubilee transformed Rome into a global beacon of faith. At the heart of this sacred tradition is the opening of the Holy Doors, a symbolic invitation to spiritual renewal. These four major thresholds are located at the Great Basilicas: St. Peter’s, St. John Lateran, St. Paul Outside the Walls, and St. Mary Major.

Our journey was anchored by the Couples For Christ (CFC) Global Conference, a massive two-batch event held at the Centro Mariapoli Internazionale in Castel Gandolfo. My wife and I, alongside delegates from the CFC London A and B Chapters, joined the second batch from May 23–25.

The atmosphere was electric. This gathering wasn't just a conference; it was a dual celebration marking 25 years of Vatican recognition for CFC and 30 years of our presence in Europe. Under the theme "Pilgrims of Hope," thousands of us gathered to hear profound insights from Vatican Cardinals and Archbishops. Experiencing that unifying spirit, members from every corner of the globe coming together for faith and family, was truly overwhelming.

We were deeply blessed to balance our spiritual duties with moments of quiet reflection. Our stay in a cozy apartment overlooking the lake at Castel Gandolfo provided a serene backdrop to the high-energy conference.

In Rome, we successfully made our pilgrimage to all four Holy Doors. A standout moment was celebrating Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica alongside hundreds of our CFC brothers and sisters. We also had the distinct honor of attending the first-ever papal audience of Pope Leo XIV in St. Peter’s Square and paid our respects at the tomb of Pope Francis in the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.

Of course, a Roman pilgrimage is never complete without embracing the city’s timeless culture. Between our spiritual activities, we wandered through history at the Colosseum and Castel Sant’Angelo, the architectural marvel of the Pantheon, the vibrant Piazza di Spagna (Spanish Steps), and the Trevi Fountain, where we followed tradition and tossed a few coins, whispering wishes for our family and community.

Looking back, this trip was the perfect harmony of a spiritual mission and a personal holiday. It was a journey of the soul that we will carry in our hearts for many years to come. We left Rome not just as tourists, but as true Pilgrims of Hope.

English Breakfast Saved the Saturday!

2025-03-24T20:30:00.003+01:00

Our Saturday mornings usually follow a very predictable, quiet routine. I’m typically the early bird, waking up around 8:00 AM to prepare my fresh brewed coffee and to sizzle my go-to breakfast: toasties with two sunny-side-up eggs. My wife usually joins the world between 9:00 and 10:00 AM, while our kids, Kayla and Keiron, are sleeping like a log after staying up way too late the night before! It’s our "usual" stuff—a standard, slow Saturday.

But this past Saturday, I decided to shake things up!

I thought to myself, Why not ditch the routine and dive into a massive, traditional English Breakfast as a family? If you aren't familiar, a "Full English" (lovingly known as a fry-up) is the ultimate morning feast. We’re talking fried eggs, succulent pork sausages, crispy back bacon, baked beans, grilled tomatoes, and sautéed mushrooms. Throw in some black pudding, fried bread, buttered toast, and golden hash browns, and you’ve got a meal fit for royalty! Served with a hot cup of tea or coffee, it’s pure comfort on a plate.

I couldn't wait!

I rushed upstairs to wake the kids, telling them to get dressed quickly because we were heading out for a feast. Here’s a pro-tip for parents: if you want to motivate teenagers without any pushback, offer them amazing food! While teens these days can be so focused on their own gadgets and the worlds, the promise of a delicious breakfast is the one thing that guaranteed their attention.

We headed to our local diner and executed the plan perfectly. And let me tell you, it was a massive success! Every single one of us cleared our plates. But the best part wasn't just the bacon and eggs; it was the conversation. We laughed, caught up on their school lives, and chatted about everything they’ve been up to lately. It felt like our family bond was totally renewed, even in just that short hour together.

It turns out that a Full English Breakfast was exactly what we needed!

From Overthinking to Over-Thanking

2025-02-15T15:37:00.020+01:00

I caught a glimpse of the sunrise the other day while waiting for my train, and it hit me just how much my mindset has shifted. Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of my time, especially during those long commutes, immersed in the Bible in a Year and Catechism in a Year podcasts with Fr. Mike Schmitz.

I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been a "negative" person, per se, but I definitely used to be an overthinker. When things got out of hand, I’d spiral. I’d rush to find a "quick fix" for every problem, which usually just led to impulsive decisions and a trail of regret.

For a long time, I felt stuck. I was constantly looking backward, beating myself up over what I should have done better or wondering where I’d gone wrong. Some days felt like a heavy, uphill battle against my own mood, and honestly I didn’t think I could change it.

Between the teachings from Couples For Christ (CFC) and the insights from Fr. Mike, my perspective started to pivot. I began diving deeper into my faith and exploring the actual virtue of gratitude. It sounds like a cliché, I know, but the concept is actually brilliantly simple: instead of obsessing over what’s missing, start noticing what’s already there.

I started small. I began to intentionally appreciate a perfect cup of coffee in the morning, a rare ray of sunlight piercing through the unpredictable London clouds, the 3-minute "check-in" call from my wife during her lunch break, finally walking through the front door of my house after a brutal commute filled with train cancellations and those Saturday morning strolls with my family, hunting for treasures in charity shops. I realized that these "insignificant" moments actually held the most value.

Once I turned gratitude into a habit, the world started to feel a bit lighter. That "dark cloud" that used to follow me around began to lift. I wasn't just faking a smile anymore; I was actually feeling joy.

That joy has sparked a real change in me. I’m not ignoring my problems, but I finally believe I can handle them. I’ve noticed that staying positive has breathed new life into my relationships because I’m not constantly complaining. Even when things are a "big deal," I approach them with a sense of calm. I have more energy, more focus, and I finally feel like I’m in the driver’s seat of my own life.

Today, gratitude is just part of my "daily bread." It helps me navigate the bad days and savour the good ones even more. I’ve realized that there is always something good to find, even in the worst-case scenarios. As long as I keep looking for the "good stuff," I know I can handle whatever comes my way.

The Gift of a Mother's Love: A Birthday Tribute

2024-12-18T23:30:00.011+01:00

The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in my heart. I, a man of few words, struggle to express the depth of my love for my mother. Though a simple phone call lies within easy reach, connecting us across the miles that separate Barcelona from my own life, I often find myself hesitant. Is it a fear of uttering empty pleasantries? Am I simply too engaged in the whirlwind of my own existence? Perhaps.

My childhood was a tapestry woven with threads of longing. At the tender age of ten or eleven, I witnessed my mother depart for Spain, leaving a gaping hole in my young heart. The absence of her maternal embrace cast a long shadow over my formative years. I grappled with a sense of detachment, adrift in a sea of unfamiliar emotions. There were periods, I confess, when the very memory of her faded, as if I were a solitary island, forced to weather life's storms alone. My father, God rest his soul, provided an inconstant presence, but it was a different kind of love, a unique story to tell someday if God's willing.

My mother, with a firm determination, toiled tirelessly to pave the way for our education back in the Philippines. Her sacrifices fuelled my academic pursuits, culminating in my college degree – a testament to her tireless hard work. In 2000, she guided my footsteps to Barcelona, a city that would become the backdrop for my own journey of self-discovery, the foundation upon which I built my family and forged a future.

Looking back, I may harbour a few "what ifs," a yearning to alter certain choices along the winding path of my life. Yet, I embrace the totality of my experiences, the triumphs and the missteps alike. This life, with all its imperfections, is the one I chose, the one I was destined to live. And for that, I am eternally grateful to my mother. Without her love and support, my life would be an entirely different, and undoubtedly, a far less fulfilling story.

My mother is not without her flaws. Her spirit, at times, can be a formidable force, challenging to navigate, my siblings can attest to that. But these imperfections are merely facets of her complex and vibrant personality. She sacrificed countless dreams for the sake of her children, her steadfast love extending to my own children and my wife.

Today, on her 71st birthday, I wish to honour the extraordinary woman who shaped my destiny. Words, however fluent, seem inadequate to express the profound gratitude I feel. I simply want her to know that the man I am today is a direct reflection of her enduring love and unwavering support.

Happy Birthday, Mom. May the Lord bless you with an abundance of joy, peace, and good health. May His face shine upon you and grant you His amazing grace. Amen.

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A Day of Health and Hope

2024-12-12T07:30:00.007+01:00

Last Monday, I decided to take a much-needed break. A looming GP appointment, scheduled for the afternoon, prompted me to clear my entire day. While the morning might have seemed dull, it was surprisingly productive. I managed to coordinate with the gas engineer for my annual inspection, ensuring a smooth and efficient process.

However, beneath the surface of a seemingly ordinary day, a wave of anxiety was brewing. My primary concern was the rapid spread of eczema on my left ankle. This, coupled with recent episodes of nighttime breathing difficulties, had me worried. Given my history of high blood pressure, I knew that these new symptoms could potentially complicate my health. The added inconvenience of frequent nighttime trips to the bathroom, a possible sign of an enlarged prostate, further intensified my worries. As I prepared for my appointment, I couldn't shake off a sense of unease. But I chose to trust God for divine intervention, hoping for the best.

The appointment itself was brief but comprehensive. I underwent an ECG and provided blood and urine samples for testing. The doctor prescribed medication for my eczema and emphasized the importance of regular exercise and weight loss.

Two days later, I received the results: all clear! A wave of relief washed over me. I was grateful that the tests had revealed no serious underlying conditions. It was a clear reminder that our health is our greatest asset, and we must prioritize it.

I encourage all of you to make regular check-ups a part of your routine. Early detection and timely intervention are crucial in maintaining good health. Let's cherish the gift of life and strive for a healthier, happier future.

God bless!

By the way, I chose this image of Cywen, my sleepy companion, for this blog. She basically turned me into a human cat bed that day after my GP appointment.

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Eleven Years Later... A Resurgence

2024-12-10T07:00:00.003+01:00

It feels like a lifetime ago. Eleven long years. A decade and a year of silence. A digital void. Yet, here I am, dusting off the cobwebs of this forgotten corner of the internet. A stroke of luck, perhaps, that this little space I once called my own still exists, untouched by the relentless march of time.

A surge of nostalgia washes over me as I sit down to craft these words. The familiar hum of the keyboard, the blank page beckoning me to fill it with thoughts and dreams. It's as if an old friend has returned, inviting me to rekindle a passion long thought vanished.

The satisfaction of creating something from nothing is a feeling I had almost forgotten. To weave together fragments of my thoughts, experiences, and emotions into a coherent narrative is a relieving experience. Each keystroke is a brushstroke, painting a picture of my soul onto the canvas of the digital world.

A part of me hopes that these words will linger long after I'm gone, a testament to my existence, a piece of my spirit captured in time. Perhaps, a future reader will stumble upon these pages, finding comfort, inspiration, or simply a moment of connection.

To those of you who have chosen to accompany me on this journey, I am eternally grateful. Your presence, your silent understanding, and your occasional feedback have been a source of immense encouragement. By sharing a piece of yourself with me, you've become a part of my story.

May these words inspire you to live life to the fullest, to chase your dreams, and to embrace every moment, no matter how swift. Let's journey together, hand in hand, through the labyrinth of life, leaving a positive impact on the world around us.

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A Leap of Faith

2024-12-06T08:00:00.002+01:00

Daily Gospel: Matthew 9:27-31

As Jesus passed by, two blind men followed him, crying out, “Son of David, have pity on us!” When he entered the house, the blind men approached him and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I can do this?” “Yes, Lord,” they said to him. Then he touched their eyes and said, “Let it be done for you according to your faith.” And their eyes were opened. Jesus warned them sternly, “See that no one knows about this.” But they went out and spread word of him through all that land.

Reflection: A Leap of Faith

Today's gospel reading, from Matthew 9:27-31, recounts the story of two blind men who cry out to Jesus for healing. It's truly inspiring their unwavering faith, despite their disability. They believed in Jesus' power to heal them, and their belief was rewarded.

On a personal level, I can relate to this story. There have been many times in my life when I've felt lost and unable to see clearly, much like the blind men in the gospel. During these difficult moments, I've turned my eyes to Jesus, looking for guidance and strength.

It reminds me of the profound importance of faith. A faith so deep that it abides in the trust of Jesus' power to heal. This kind of faith that is essential to guide us through the stormy seas and to anchor us to the ground amidst many challenges and trials in our life.

I'm also grateful for the gift of sight, both physical and spiritual. May we all strive to have the faith of the two blind men, and to trust in God's love and divine intervention.

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A Silent Prayer and a Childlike Faith

2024-12-03T09:30:00.004+01:00

Daily Gospel: Luke 10:21-24

Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, "I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him."

Turning to the disciples in private he said, "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it."

Reflection: A Silent Prayer and a Childlike Faith

Earlier today, a touching scene unfolded before my eyes. An elderly woman, tears streaming down her face, sat a few rows behind me on the bus. She tapped her bus pass, her fingers trembling slightly. I hesitated, unsure if I should offer comfort or if it would be an intrusion. In the end, I chose silence.

Instead, I offered a silent prayer, asking God to ease her pain and provide the solace she needed. This brief encounter, though silent, resonated deeply with the Gospel reading for the day.

Jesus' words in Luke 10:21-24 struck within my soul. He praises His Father for revealing divine truths to the "little ones," those who are humble and open to God's grace. It’s a powerful reminder that true wisdom doesn’t stem from intellectual pursuits or worldly achievements. It comes from a humble heart, open to God's grace and mercy.

I often find myself caught in the trap of seeking answers and knowledge, relying on my own understanding to navigate life's challenges. However, in doing so, I neglect the most important thing: listening to God's voice and trusting in His divine plan.

Jesus encourages us to embrace a childlike faith, a faith that is pure, innocent, and totally reliant on God. It's a faith that doesn't question, but simply trusts. A faith that doesn't seek to understand, but accepts God's will without reservation.

As I reflect on this experience, I am reminded of the power of prayer and the importance of a childlike faith. The elderly woman on the bus, and countless others like her, are seeking God's love and guidance. Let us pray for them, and for ourselves, that we may always turn to God in times of trouble and trust in His loving care.

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The Sacred Pit: A Place of Suffering and Hope

2024-11-27T06:30:00.002+01:00

Daily Gospel: Luke 21:12-19

Jesus said to the crowd: “They will seize and persecute you, they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons, and they will have you led before kings and governors because of my name. It will lead to your giving testimony. Remember, you are not to prepare your defence beforehand, for I myself shall give you a wisdom in speaking that all your adversaries will be powerless to resist or refute. You will even be handed over by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends, and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”

Reflection: The Sacred Pit: A Place of Suffering and Hope

The Sacred Pit, a dimly lit chamber beneath the Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu in Jerusalem, is believed to be the very place where Jesus was imprisoned the night before his crucifixion. We had the privilege of visiting this historic site in the summer of last year.

I chose this image as a reminder of the Gospel reading for today from St. Luke 21:12-19. While Jesus warned his disciples of the trials and tribulations they would face, including persecution, betrayal, and even death, He Himself experienced first-hand the harsh conditions of this small and dark chamber before His own crucifixion.

Jesus explicitly stated that his followers will be persecuted and betrayed and it will come from within, with family members and friends turning against them. But, amidst this forecast, He offers a message of hope and endurance. He assured them that not a hair on their heads will be lost, suggesting divine protection and ultimate victory.

While we may not face the same level of physical persecution as Jesus and His disciples, we still encounter trials and tribulations in our daily lives. These can range from workplace discrimination and family disagreements to social exclusion based on our beliefs.

This calls us to embrace our own cross, sharing in Christ's suffering and trusting in God's control, even in the darkest of times. With God's grace, we can overcome any obstacle. By reflecting on these verses, we can draw strength and inspiration to face whatever challenges may come our way.

A Lesson in True Generosity

2024-11-25T07:00:00.003+01:00

Daily Gospel: Luke 21:1-4

When Jesus looked up he saw some wealthy people putting their offerings into the treasury and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins. He said, “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.”

Reflection: A Lesson in True Generosity

Today's Gospel reading from St. Luke paints an intense picture of a poor widow who, with humble faith, offered two small coins to God at the temple. As Jesus observed this act of selfless devotion, He praised her offering, declaring that she had given more than all the wealthy people who had cast large sums into the treasury. These wealthy individuals, with their abundant resources, had merely given a fraction of their wealth. In contrast, the widow had given her all. Her offering, born from a heart overflowing with love and faith, was a testament to her unwavering trust in God's providence.

This story has made me reflect deeply on my own relationship with God. Am I truly generous with Him? Do I give Him my best, or do I merely offer the scraps that are left over after I've taken care of myself? The widow's sacrifice challenges me to examine my own heart and to consider the true meaning of generosity. She, despite her poverty, gave everything she had to live on. Her act of faith was a powerful statement, a testament to the depth of her love for God. It's an absolute contrast to my own offerings, which often feel more like a token gesture rather than a heartfelt sacrifice.

This story calls me to a deeper level of commitment. It challenges me to re-evaluate my priorities and to make God the centre of my life. I'm inspired by the widow's example and I'm determined to follow her lead. I want to give my best to God, no matter the cost. I want to offer Him my 4 T's (time, talents, treasures and testimonies). I want to love Him with all my heart, mind, and soul.

Learning from Jesus' Tears

2024-11-21T23:00:00.004+01:00

Daily Gospel: Luke 19:41-44

As Jesus drew near Jerusalem, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, “If this day you only knew what makes for peace–but now it is hidden from your eyes. For the days are coming upon you when your enemies will raise a palisade against you; they will encircle you and hem you in on all sides. They will smash you to the ground and your children within you, and they will not leave one stone upon another within you because you did not recognize the time of your visitation.”

Reflection: Learning from Jesus' Tears

In the picture above is the Church of Dominus Flevit (“The Lord Wept” in Latin). The Church is located on the western slope of the Mount of Olives and marks the place where Jesus wept over Jerusalem in Luke 19:41-44. The church was built in 1953 to commemorate Jesus' triumphal entry to the city. As you'll see in the picture, the church is made in the form of a teardrop to commemorate the spot where Jesus wept. We went there in a pilgrimage over a year ago.

As I pondered this passage, I was struck by Jesus' deep love and compassion for Jerusalem, despite its impending destruction. His tears were not merely a response to the city's physical demise, but a lament for the spiritual blindness that had overtaken its people, a blindness that prevented them from recognizing and embracing God's mercy.

Reflecting on my own heart, I am confronted with the reality of my own limitations. How often do I fail to see the world through God's eyes? Do I truly love others as Jesus loves them, even when they are difficult to love? Am I willing to share in the sorrows of those who mourn and the joys of those who celebrate?

Inspired by Jesus' example, I am called to prayer. To intercede for my fellow human beings, my brethren, and to lift up those who are broken, suffering, or lost. May I strive to see the world as Jesus sees it, filled with divine love and infinite mercy.

The Sycamore Tree: A Symbol of Faith and Renewal

2024-11-19T07:30:00.038+01:00

Daily Gospel: Luke 19:1-10

He entered Jericho and was passing through. And there was a man named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector, and rich. And he sought to see who Jesus was, but could not, on account of the crowd, because he was small of stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, make haste and come down; for I must stay at your house today." So he made haste and came down, and received him joyfully. And when they saw it they all murmured, "He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner." And Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded any one of anything, I restore it fourfold." And Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of man came to seek and to save the lost."

Reflection: The Sycamore Tree: A Symbol of Faith and Renewal

The weathered sycamore tree, pictured above, is believed to be the very one Zacchaeus climbed to catch a glimpse of Jesus. We had the privilege of seeing this historic site during our pilgrimage to the Holy Land over a year ago. As we passed by on our way to Jericho, we couldn't help but reflect on the powerful story that unfolded in this very spot.

Gazing upon this ancient sycamore tree, I’m filled with a sense of inspiration. Zacchaeus, a man of humble stature, yearned to see Jesus. Despite the packed crowd of people, he persevered, climbing the tree to gain a better view. In our own lives, we often find ourselves overwhelmed by the chaos of daily existence: demanding work, tight schedules, and anxious thoughts. It's easy to lose sight of what truly matters. This historic tree serves as a reminder to pause, reflect, and seek a higher purpose. May we, like Zacchaeus, strive to rise above life's challenges and find solace in the presence of God.

Zacchaeus’s story doesn’t end with his meeting with Jesus. Inspired by the divine encounter, he committed to a life of repentance and renewal. He not only sought forgiveness but also extended an invitation to Jesus to share a meal at his home. This powerful act challenges us to go beyond mere contemplation and take concrete steps towards personal transformation. As we deepen our faith, we must accompany it with actions that reflect our commitment to God. By renouncing our sins and making amends for past wrongs, we create space for Christ to reign supreme in our hearts and lives.

Open wide our hearts, Lord, and make them your eternal home. We welcome your presence, your guidance, and your love. May your light illuminate our lives and transform us from deep within.

Sycamore: The Catholic Faith Explained