40 Days For Life

Friday morning, while on the train to work, I cam across this news in Metro daily. It was such a joy to see the picture of Melinda Star Guido at 24 weeks. I believe pictures speak more profoundly than words. With the legal abortion limit at 24 weeks here in UK, its good to realise that at 24 weeks, the child in the mothers womb already has arms and legs and a face and above all a soul, which is irreplacable. Every human life concieved is a miracle, a miracle of Gods unconditional love and trust.

Below is a small sharing I wrote for Jesus Youth after we visited and prayed with the 40 days for life campaign in early October in Birmingham, UK.

Last Sunday, we (me and my wife) along with some of our friends, went along to the "40 Days for life" prayer campaign in Birmingham. We spend a good couple of hours in prayer outside the Calthorpe abortion clinic there.We also were fortunate enough to take part in the siege of Jericho prayer around the clinic that evening. It was a cloudy day, the mood was sombre. And my heart was heavy; probably the powers of darkness and evil in me were wielding too much power over there. During the Jericho prayer we walked around the clinic seven times, praying countless number of rosaries and divine mercy chaplets; praying for the walls of evil to crumble and fall; praying for the innocent lives of hundreds of unborn babies whose mothers have and would visit the clinic in future; but above all, praying for forgiveness, upon us, we, who have fallen to even greater depths and upon the whole world.

It was indeed a touching experience for all of us to have taken part in this huge witnessing of faith. As I walked around the clinic, with around 75 other people, both young and old, families with small children, priests, nuns and seminarians, I really began thinking "why I believe in what I believe". For this was a long cry from the beauty and majesty of the Holy Catholic Church of the World Youth Day and its joys. Now, all that I could feel in me was a lingering pain, a dizziness, a sense of abandonment, but I knew somehow that this was where the church wanted me to be; this was where my God needed me to be. No glory, no fanfare, but to be part of a cause, which the world considers to be madness at best and bigotry at worst. Am I willing to fight the losing battle? Would I trust and would I have faith? Oh yes, for there was plenty of faith on display there, faith that drives people like Isabel, Brian and Aline to stand and kneel in front of that clinic, day after day, hour after hour, praying the rosary, being ridiculed, mocked and verbally abused, yet only smiling, helping and blessing in return. And I could hear the words, "You of little faith".

Sometimes you see evil face to face and it frightens you, at other times it taunts you, many times it teases you, lures you, tempts you and over the last couple of days, I have seen and felt quite a bit the power of evil in and around me. I posted some updates on yesterday's prayer siege on my Twitter account and was surprised to see the amount of interest it generated from some pro-choice supporters from around the world. My comments were torn apart and I was bombarded with arguments and counter arguments, was pronounced a miserable thing, despicable. And I understood that sometimes courage alone is not enough to stand up against evil, faith and lots of it is needed. As St Paul says, Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen..

I was there only for a couple of hours and the abuse I endured was mostly online, I can only imagine the amount of abuse and taunts our brothers and sisters who would be praying outside the clinics around the world would endure. As the Siege of Jericho around the Calthorpe abortion clinic came to a conclusion yesterday, the following poem was read out, which for me summed up the whole experience.

MY LITTLE ONE
Today I think of you while I am weeping
And slowly count the lost and empty years;
If you had lived, it would have been your birthday,
Though every day, in truth, is filled with tears.

I try, of course, to think of other matters,
To dust and clean and wash away the pain
And yet the more I try to push you from me,
The deeper in my heart do you remain.

What colour were your eyes, your hair I wonder
Your little ears – what shape would they have been?
I want you, seek you, yearn so much to hold you
But in my searching mind you stay unseen.

If I  had known upon that day the future,
If I had felt the torment I would bear,
If I had not then let them take you from me,
I would not now be slave to this despair.

Within that room of death and dark and coldness
The devil surely did exultant dwell,
For was it not indeed the very annex
Adjacent to the icy halls of hell.

And is it my imagining, I wonder,
When first you felt that sharp, satanic knife,
You cried to me in fear, “What’s happening, Mama?
I beg you, help me … help me … save my life”.

It is a world become malign and shadowed
Where forces cruel, depraved, demonic reign,
Where those who are most innocent and helpless
Are cast away like winnowed husks of grain.

They talk of “women’s choice” and “women’s freedom”
And claim the right to life is theirs alone;
They blind their eyes to those who still lie hidden
Within the womb that they, themselves, have known.

All joy, all hope, all human warmth must perish
When pity, love and trust are thus betrayed,
When frozen hearts and callous hands accomplish
A work that dares destroy what God has made.

And it is He, the Lord of Life, who formed you
And cherishes you now, my little one,
Who will, upon that day when all shall tremble,
Ask why it was this piteous deed was done.

  --- Michael Healy

Jesus, help and protect the unborn.....

iForgive

I started with this blog post some time last week and for some reason (that I cant now remember), titled it iForgive, and the next day, as I woke up, the first news that greeted me was the death of Steve Jobs!! Its a great mystery to see the way in which the seemingly different, inconsequential things, sometime feel interconnected in life. Many consider it chance, luck or coincidence, whereas Blessed John Paul II used to call it grace and providence.

Over the last couple of weeks, the question of forgiveness have come up again and again. Through the many things that have happened during these days, the subject of forgiveness has remained fresh in my mind. For a long time, I had always wondered what it meant to really forgive. After the many bitter epoch's of life, once the anger and frustration has subsided, when I sit down to reason, argue and finally submit myself to God, albeit reluctantly, although I ask Lord for forgiveness and promise God to forgive all those people and memories, yet the question has always remained in me; what it means to really forgive? How does it feel to forgive as Stephan forgave, to suffer as Therese suffered and to love as Francis loved. Forgiveness is never an easy choice, let alone a natural one. It takes courage, it takes effort and mostly it needs faith. My question has always been how and when do I know that I've completely forgiven?

Its even harder when forgiveness has to become a daily choice. I have felt that its easier to forgive and move on from something that has already happened, when you know that its already behind you. But when we have to live daily with the reality of that situation or person, which is precisely what we are trying to forgive, it becomes a constant and often a losing battle against our own limitations to accept and love. Often the struggles in our families, the frustrations of our work places and the lukewarmness of our own faith are all of this nature. As someone rightly said, its a lot easier to die once and for all for Christ, whereas its much harder to live the faith, dying every single day to oneself. 'Then He said to them all(disciples), if any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.' (Luke 9:23). Its no wonder that this exhortation was not given to the crowd, but to his disciples in private. For many are called, but few are chosen.

Over time I've learned that I can never truly forgive on my own. Painful as it was, that has always been the truth. I can try how much ever I want, yet fall short of total forgiveness. On the other hand I know that it is truly possible to completely forgive, if grace from above would cover me. It is here that I understand the true meaning of what St Paul said, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me". Yes, if he, who made me, formed me in my mothers womb, who knows me through and through, would heal me, then forgiveness would come naturally, and love would flow out automatically. This is what inner healing is. A healing that sets us free. Free to love, and love until it hurts. When I get to that stage, I guess I would never have to wrestle with the question of whether or not to forgive or how much to forgive, because you, my brother, sister, can not hurt me, for I love you so much that there is no more any pain or offense, but love alone.

I often think about why Christ said what he said on the cross, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do". Was it easy for him there? Broken, rejected, dejected, alone, with no sight or hope of any help, even death seemed far away. Yes he was God, but he was true man as well. I would like to think that even in his most vulnerable moment, as he recited his last words, Christ truly meant every word of the above prayer. "For they know not what they do". The Romans were in command, the chief priests and elders were in control, yet here is Christ, saying they did not know what they were doing. Yes, very often we see, yet vision eludes us, we hear yet understanding eludes us, we touch but sadly, warmth eludes us. It is to me that Christ is saying from the cross, that he, who has hurt me, really does not know what he is doing. Yes, they have hit me where it pains the most, they revel when I am weak and most vulnerable, yet the Spirit of God in me slowly tells me, they do not know what they are doing. Yes Lord, I forgive...