When the Body Slows, the Soul Wakes Up

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

 

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!