How I became a Catholic

I was born into a Chinese family where we followed Granny in the religious teachings of Taoism. When I was a kid, I remember Granny giving my mom these yellow papers with characters on them (called ‘hu’ in hokkien), folded into triangular shape for protection. Other days, we would follow Granny to the temple and help her carry basket of food and prayer items. On special dates, we would help Granny fold ‘money papers’ for the dead and prepare a feast for the ancestors at Granny’s house.

Those were the stronger religious background I grew up in during my childhood.

As for other part of my childhood, with regards to some of my Catholic relatives, my sister and I were often signed up for Christmas parties and children camps.

My maternal grandmother was baptized at her home with her family. Shortly after her baptism, she passed on due to her sickness. Thereafter, Mom and my aunt’s family started learning Catechism from a nun. And then, for my siblings and other cousins, we had our own Sunday school class with lots of colorings.

At the age of 12, God gave me the discernment to make a choice of faith. I used to pray to the Guang Yin statue on the way to my school every morning. In the night, I would often talk to my friend, Jesus. I asked  them both to help me make the right choice.

One day, just like that, I decided that it was Jesus whom I wanted to follow. After 3 years, I was baptized at the age of 15 together with Mom and my siblings.

It was not until years later when I realized my mistake - It was not I that chose Him then; God, my Father was the One who chose me that day..

You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should remain, that whatever you ask the Father in My name He may give you. 

John 15:16

Overwhelmed

Today I felt really unprepared during mass. I was so nervous. Worried of forgetting the tune for the responsarial psalm I was to cantored. Struggling with the urge to want to go through the tune when the first reading was being proclaimed, I resisted and knew that I needed to focus on God and not worry. To depend on Him and not myself. To be like Mary and not Martha.

Alas, everything went well.

Times when I allow the Holy Spirit guide of my thoughts and actions, He would lavished on me His warmth, joy and love thereafter. Today was like that. It was an overwhelming feeling that made me want to tear - not of sadness but of awe of God.

The rest of the mass was so beautiful as I was so much more aware of God's presence in the Eucharistic celebration.

Last week, Padre told us at the beginning of his homily that he was going to share something he was prompted when proclaiming the Gospel instead of his prepared sermon. And after he did, he choked in tears a little, asked to be excused for a while, lowered his head and put with his hands over it. After 5 seconds he regained his composure and continued with the rest of the homily.

It made me wonder why he reacted that way cause there was really nothing sad or personal about what he was sharing. And then it struck to me that it was probably the same feeling I felt.

When we open our hearts to let God work in us, He lavishes His love on us.

Keep watch at the door of my lips

Somethings done can never be taken back.

Words spoken at a spur of the moment. Years have passed. Time has been mistakenly taken as the reason that one would have forgotten and forgiven but with women, that is unfortunately, never quite the case. 

Again I find myself blaming myself for those things I've uttered in that situation. Thinking to myself: If only I had controlled my tougue, things would have been different now.

Set a guard, O Lord, before my mouth; keep watch at the door of my lips.

Psalms 141:3