Tag: Faith

I Believe, Help My Unbelief!

“A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line.” –C.S. Lewis

I’m so ignorant. Thank You Jesus for being the only Way, Truth, and Life. Thank You for making sure I am guided accordingly through the Catholic Church. You know how ignorant I am, and in Your infinite wisdom, you decided to establish Your church to make sure the Truth is kept untainted and unchanged. The times change but You, the Truth, do not. Sometimes You are hard to accept because accepting You requires for me to change my habits, thoughts, words, and actions. Please Lord, humble me always, that I may always be open to Your Truth that is Your Love. May Your Truth change me, humble me, and consume me. If I don’t understand something, please give me the patience to simply believe first and trust that You will allow me to understand in Your own time, Your own ways. I believe, help my unbelief! You showed me the straight line, and You wrote it in my heart. Please give me the grace to know Your will and the strength to do what I ought. Help me to know all the crooked lines in my life and always look to the straight line that is You. I am stubborn, and I will sin, but Lord please be merciful always and help me in my continued resolve to sin no more. Amen.

We Fight From Victory

We fight for victory.

A common battle cry that our leaders cry out to pump/hype/inspire us to doing some crazy thing for the Lord. It usually works, whether we are just going to a General Assembly, a Camp, or a Conference.

However this past Eastern True North Conference (TNC) was some sort of a challenge. It wasn’t until three weeks ’til the conference date that we called our first coordination meeting for all the committee heads. I remember having a conversation with Kris that nothing we’ll do for this conference will amount to something because of the time constraint, but if something happens it will only be because of the Lord.

From a program stand point, which I had the opportunity to lead with Hannah, we had to prepare one of the most creative intensive conferences ever (based on my 12 year experience in this ministry). Everything was against us – time, accessibility, and availability – yet the Lord still allowed everything to fall into place. He provided us with more than capable choreographers and dancers, our production heads, tech team, and director were all aboard to deliver the message of exposing Jesus at this conference.

In fact, those who went to conference can attest that the creatives were very sick! Even at the tech booth I was snapping, clapping, and cheering them on. At the end of the day, I was in awe that it was the smoothest conference in terms of program I’ve been too (12 years guys, 12 years). Even with all the backstage issues (and there were quite a lot), the message was delivered.

This leads me back to a reflection of mine a few days before TNC, we do not not fight for victory. In fact, the victory has already been won when Christ was raised from the dead. The birth, death, and resurrection of Christ was the victory. Every thing else that we do, specially if it’s for Him, is just an affirmation of that definitive victory. Hence we will never “lose”.

We fight from victory.

A posture not borne out of pride, but a posture borne out of faith that everything is part of His plan. That He loves us so much that He will not lead us down a path that will not bear anything good in the end.

For that, may God be praised in victory.

Saint Ignatius, pray for us. Amen.

Home.

With the amount of times that I’ve had to travel within an eighteen month time frame, most people would assume that I no longer suffer from homesickness. The past three trips (2009, 2012, 2013a) have been by myself; the shortest trip lasting 8 weeks and the longest lasting 6 months. Most people base their judgement on my social media posts and are probably thinking, “Dang, she is living the life.”

Well, reality check: I still suffer from homesickness. I still feel somewhat lost even though I’ve revisited Place A, B and C more than a handful of times. I still feel out of place in a room full of old friends and the nausea that accompanies displacement is very much real.

All those things still exist. Even now. Even when my family is here with me. We all haven’t been together in a very, very long time. Dad’s had to work out of town for the past 2 years and my brother’s had to live away at Waterloo ever since he started his Undergrad. And me, well…..I’ve been traveling to PH.

A few days into our family trip here, I was still feeling so bothered. My temper kept getting the best of me. I grew impatient and volatile. I couldn’t understand it. Shouldn’t my family have cushioned the hypothetical “emotional blow” that always hit me during my trips? Shouldn’t the weird jumble of emotions have stopped because I was with my loved ones? The anger and frustration drained me so much that one night, I decided to just leave the group. The innermost depths of me was craving for something. I didn’t know what that something was, but what I did know was that going to God wouldn’t leave me any more desolate than I already was. So I looked for a church.

I ended up at Sto. Rosario. I got through confession. I kneeled at the Adoration Chapel. I sat through Mass and received Holy Eucharist. And you know what? For the first time I felt good. Not just ice-cream-on-a-hot-sunny-day good, but ‘passing my final exam with flying colours and making the honour roll’ kinda good. I was a fish out of water that suddenly found my way back to the water. I could breathe again.

As I contemplated at the Adoration Chapel I was reminded of a promise I made to Him during the SFC precon praisefest. It just so happened to my birthday too. I told God that I was willing to finally give Him the one part of me that I hadn’t let go of yet- a very specific piece of my heart that was put on reserve. I didn’t have the strength to fight that fourteen year battle any more. It took me that long to surrender. That day He said to me, “Exodus 14:14, my beloved. Do not forget. I will fight for you, you need only to be still.

In the presence of the Eucharist and in front of the altar, I felt God whisper me to me, “Therese, my dearest Therese. You silly stubborn girl. Remember what you offered at the foot of my cross weeks ago? Remember that you promised me you’d finally give that last piece to me? Home is where the heart is and yours just so happens to be with me. It’s safe. It’s in my hands now. I’m happy that you finally found your back. My child, right now at this very moment …you are home. I’ve been waiting.”

All the puzzle pieces fit.
It all made sense.
I felt this sudden rush of peace, of final certainty.

Everything in this world is temporary. Even my family. But God, God is infinite. God is timeless, boundless and endless. I am made to stand in His presence, to bask in the love that is always present in His house.

 

Father, I’m coming home.
Amen. 

The Tree Of Faith, Hope, and Love.

This reflection is inspired by CFC-Youth Canada’s Eastern Mission Volunteers Coordination Meeting last Friday, July 12, 2013.

Let our faith be like the roots of a tree. Always looking for nourishment, always going deeper, always anchoring ourselves to the bedrock of the faith. So when a storm of anxieties, fears, doubts, and uncontrollable situations arise; we may be moved and shaken a bit, but never destroyed. (Colossians 2:6-7)

Let our hope be like that of a trunk of a tree. Always aiming higher and trying to reach the sun – the Son. The more we have hope, the higher the tree becomes, the easier it is for people to see what we hope for which is the Son. We become landmarks, a sight to see, a light to the world. (Matthew 5:14)

Let our love be like the branches. Giving shade to those who are in need of rest, giving life who eat the fruits of our labor, extending outward and always seeking out to cover more ground. (John 15:2)

If we become a tree of faith, hope, and love – we not only prosper and become fully alive, we also become a breath of life to those around us.

Lord, allow me to grow in faith, hope, and love – rooted, reaching, and abounding – with, in, and through – You. Amen.

This blog is also cross-posted on my own personal blog: http://www.kevinmuico.com/2013/07/14/the-tree-of-faith-hope-and-love/

Ora Et Labora

papa

Every 4:45 in the morning, regardless of where he has been and what he has done the night before, would wake up and open his bible. He would sit up from the couch he loved to sleep on, do the sign of the cross, and be silent in his prayers for the next 15-20 minutes. After that, he would dress up for his morning jog and be back after 30 minutes to either do weights or play basketball outside his house. He would then shower and eat his breakfast which his wife prepared. Pray over his kids right before he left, then work hard until noon. Every lunch time when the siren signalling noon would sound off, he would make his way home riding a tricycle for 5 minutes and he would have his lunch, turn on the tv and then watch his favorite noon-time show Eat Bulaga. He would laugh for a bit then turn it off after a few minutes. He would take his afternoon nap for 15 minutes, then take another shower before he would make his way back to work. From 1pm til 5pm, in fact it would usually be til 7pm because he liked to work over time. He worked hard because it not only provided for his family, but he felt loyalty for the company that provided work for his father too ,which also provided for his family while growing up. He would come home, talk to his kids and wife, eat his dinner with his family, then he would be off to an activity for Couples For Christ almost every night. If he was home, he would turn on the tv, watch some news or basketball depending on which was on. But more often than not, he was at an activity with Couples For Christ. This whole regimen happened during weekdays and weekends. Though for weekends his overtime at work would only be during the first half of the morning, because he would usually spend noon til 3pm with his family at a mall then go home to play basketball. A CFC activity would be his schedule right after. On Sundays, mass would take priority; he would go to work right after to clock in work as much as he can before he would go home right in time for lunch with his family at a mall. Then be back home by 3pm for his weekend basketball usually with his son. Then off to another CFC activity.

Rain or shine, sick or healthy, whether he felt like it or not – his daily regimen was followed to the T. Morning prayers set the tone which gave direction to his day, to his work. For him, it was ora et labora, Saint Benedict’s motto, to pray and work. Nothing fazed him. For him prayer was everything, and work was his prayer. It provided him a means to support his family, and also provided him a means to do his mission work in Couples For Christ. He kept the tenth of his wage, the other tenth was for God, the other eighty percent was for his family. With the tenth that he had, he would still give it to the Church and to whomever borrowed money from him for some emergency.

Even when he was struck down with cancer, his regimen did not change. Prayers in the morning, work in between, then CFC later in the day. It was only when he was bed-ridden, that he was limited to only his prayers. Since work was no longer possible. His last breath was spent affirming a youth leader for CFC for doing her work in the ministry of CFC-Youth For Christ. He lived, worked, and breathed his prayers into life.

I am proud to call this man my father! His prayers moved him to work, his work became his prayer!

So how do you honor a man who was all about prayer and work, by turning prayer to work and work to prayer, by becoming a missionary.

Happy birthday Pa!

May the mission I undertake for the God you served, produce more people like you. 

PS. My Father would have been 57 today. If you read this, please do offer a prayer for him. 

This reflection is also cross posted on my own blog: http://www.kevinmuico.com/2013/07/10/oraetlabor/

Reaching Out

If I only touch his garment, I shall be made well. – Matthew 9:21

Often times our response to God’s call is predicated by His ability to provide certain affirmations. We tell the Him, “Lord, give me better grades / give me a better job / a better salary / heal my aunt’s cancer / fix my broken family / etc, before I answer your call.”

Today’s gospel (Matthew 9:18-26 for July 8, 2013) on the other hand shows us how the Lord works wonders if we do things in faith first. The woman who has been sick for 12 years already had faith that her reaching out to the Lord will heal her. It was her action to touch the edge of the Lord’s garment, of a faith reaching out to the Unknowable Almighty, that made her well.

“Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And instantly the woman was made well. – Matthew 9:22

Maybe all we need is a faith that reaches out to the Lord more often than we say to the Lord to do things for us. The Lord knows all our needs, Jesus did not need to know about the woman’s sickness. He told the woman that her sickness was healed the moment she touched His garment.

Faith leads us to action which then leads to miracles.

Lord, may our faith reach out all the more to You. That our action in itself be our act of faith that opens the door to miracles. Amen.

The light that leads

“If you haven’t surrendered it to God, then you’ve surrendered it to someone else.”

I recently attended the GTA Area Core SHouT this past weekend and there are not enough words in the dictionary to describe the plethora of events that happened within those 5 days. So I’ll just use one: enlightened.

You know when you’re at a sleepover and everyone’s already passed out cold on the beds and floors. The morning after is hard to get through. You’re tired and exhausted. You have some sort of consciousness- awake but not really. It’s not until someone draws the blinds or curtains to expose the harsh sunlight rays that you feel the urgency to get up. It’s already half past noon and you’ve just wasted half the day away.

That’s how my recent experience with Christ was at SHouT. He turned on the lights. The light allowed me to see everything that was in that room, rather…my life. Enlightened- one’s ability to be spiritually aware. The Lord allowed me to see His plans for me that much clearer.

But see, when you turn on the lights EVERYTHING gets exposed, not just the good stuff. You don’t have a choice. But God is a god of light and peace- The truth, His truth is exposed in all its glory.

I’m facing the skeletons in my closet right now, some I thought I buried a long time ago but really just put a drape over. God’s light drew me to these areas, the crevices and corners, the edges and cracks. The small things count, because to God everything matters. As much as it hurts me to pull out long overdue band aids, I know that with His love I’ll finally be able to heal properly.

“Ate, it’s like when you make a paper boat and then you put it in the water. That’s how you’ll know if your boat is good or not. It might start to sink because of a hole, but all you have to do is just take it out and then patch up whatever holes exist.”

It had to happen this way for me. This was God’s way of telling me to patch up those holes so that my boat could float. How else can I be a better person or leader if I don’t allow God to shine His light on every single area of my life, even the dark sides- the ones I don’t want to look at. In this way, I can confidently go out and allow the God in me to shine.

Send out your light and your truth; let them guide me.- Psalm 43:3