Ahuv Sheli

When Silence Speaks Louder There are days when I grow tired of explaining myself... of trying to make others see what I see. My words feel wasted, my intentions questioned and my heart misunderstood. I find myself torn between the pride of proving I am right and the humility of simply letting go. But in the stillness that follows my silence, I hear a different voice, not my own, but God’s. He reminds me that not every battle needs to be fought with words. Sometimes, silence is not surrender; it’s trust. It’s saying, “Lord, You see what they cannot. You know my heart.” In a world that glorifies noise and opinions, choosing silence can be an act of faith... a declaration that God’s purpose will prevail even without my arguments. I don’t need to win every debate; I just need to stay right with Him. So I rest in the truth that my silence is not weakness; it is worship. It is me stepping aside so God can speak louder than I ever could. For when the heart is right with God, even silence beco...

When Life Feels Blue and Grey Listening to “Blue & Grey” by BTS feels almost too real sometimes... as if the song was written for the moments when my heart sinks without warning. I feel these ups and lows even after an episode of depression, after I left the walls that once confined me. Sometimes I rise above it; sometimes I don’t. The trusting and surrendering part is agonizing, yet the Lord keeps whispering, “Give it all to Me.” As I look deeper into the realities of others, I realize that sadness, fatigue, and melancholy wear different faces. One cannot compare whose sorrow weighs more or whose struggle runs deeper. Each heart carries a weight that only it can truly understand. The burden is personal, and so is the grace that sustains it. In moments when I sink into the greyness, when even prayer feels heavy and my spirit trembles between faith and fatigue, I remember that the Lord does not measure strength by how quickly I recover but by how I still choose to return to Him, eve...

When Troubles Just Don’t End I was just starting to rise from my blah moments, trying to pray again, trying to find my rhythm, trying to breathe... and then another trouble shows up. I didn’t see it coming. I can’t predict how people will react or what will come out of this mess. I just know that I’m tired of always having to start over, of trying to be strong when I don’t even feel steady inside. And yet, somewhere in the middle of all this, I sense God’s quiet gaze... not distant, not indifferent, just there. Waiting. Holding. Drawing me into a space where I can no longer rely on my own strength. Maybe this is what St. John of the Cross called the dark night ... when everything familiar falls away so only love can remain. Maybe this is how St. Teresa of Avila kept walking, bruised feet and all, because she knew Who walked beside her. So even when the troubles don’t end, I choose to believe that grace hasn’t either. And maybe that’s enough for today.

When Everything Feels Blah There are days when everything just feels dull ... when faith feels dry, prayers feel heavy and I’m left wondering where the spark went. Maybe this is God’s quiet invitation to surrender again... to let go of the resentments I’ve tucked away, the disappointments I’ve tried to ignore, the fears and anxieties I keep carrying. Maybe the blah is not emptiness but a space where He wants to meet me, heal me and remind me that I don’t have to keep holding everything together. So, Lord, I come to You with all that feels stuck and silent. Help me face what I’ve been avoiding. Heal the heaviness I cannot name. Teach me to rest, to trust, to find joy again... not in the noise of life but in the nearness of Your love.

When Trust Breaks When trust is lost, something deep within us cracks. The bond we thought was steady suddenly feels fragile. It’s easy to close the door and guard the heart. But God doesn’t ask us to forget the wound... He asks us to walk through it with grace. To trust again doesn’t mean becoming blind or naïve. It means letting God heal the part of us that became hard. It means acting with fairness even when feelings want revenge, speaking truth without malice, and choosing charity when suspicion comes easily. Sometimes trust is rebuilt; sometimes it’s simply surrendered to God. Either way, the call is the same... to love without bitterness, to see others not as threats, but as souls still being shaped by mercy, just like us. Because in the end, the strength of our faith is not proven by how perfectly others keep their word but by how faithfully we keep our hearts aligned with His.

There are those who build 'programs' in the name of 'service' all “for the good” of others. Yet sometimes, beneath the noble mission lies a hunger... not for God’s glory, but for one’s own lasting name. It is pride baptized in purpose, the subtle sin of holy ambition. PRIDE has many forms, not just arrogance or vanity, but the desire to be seen, remembered or applauded for doing good.  That is why we must constantly pause for a heart check: Whose kingdom am I really building... mine or God’s? --- Resources: Gospel of the day (Luke 18, 9-14) Fr. dela Rosa's reflection on pride and humility (https://mb.com.ph/2025/10/26/what-makes-us-look-like-the-devil)

My niece shared another story about a young person who took her own life. Hearing that always touches something deep in me. I’ve been through my own season of depression... days when I thought I had no strength left, when shame and regret felt heavier than I could bear. But God never let go. Through prayer, love, and patience from my family, I found healing. That’s why my heart aches for those who are struggling now. Depression doesn’t mean someone is weak; it means they’ve carried pain for too long. What people need most isn’t judgment, but understanding...a friend who listens, a mother’s care, a prayer whispered in faith. We may not always know what to say, but we can remind them that they are not alone. God sees, holds and restores. Even when we fall apart, His hands never let go. --- Lord, I lift up every person who is quietly hurting, those battling sadness or despair. Hold them close and remind them that You are near. Strengthen families caring for loved ones who struggle and use...

The Knowing Yet Not Doing I am coming to terms with this truth: We all KNOW about death, time’s limits, God, Heaven, purgatory, the devil and hell. We know the dangers of cigarette smoking, the harm of dumping garbage anywhere, the 'excess' of eating too much and the vanity of eating too little for appearances. We know what chemicals, plastics and selfish habits are doing to our lungs, our hearts and our planet. We know where the path of lust and greed leads... And now, in this digital age, we also know the harm of too much social media (our gauge meter)... the comparison, distraction, pride and envy it feeds into our souls. We know how it robs us of real connection, quiet reflection and time with God. We know so much and yet we live as though we don’t. We walk through life aware of the truth but unwilling to change. We cling to comfort, procrastination and false security, thinking there’s always tomorrow. Going back to the podcast I once listened to... The guest shared his nea...

The struggle The pain is back.. and so are the moods, the noise within and around me, the careless throwing of garbage, the stress. Some days seem lighter, but before long, everything returns to what feels like “normal”... a normal that sadly includes the daily disregard for others’ space, order and peace. Yet today, I realize the difference lies not in the noise but in how I choose to respond. I may fall, but I can always rise again because my heart belongs to the Lord. His love steadies me when everything else feels unstable. His grace reminds me that peace is not the absence of chaos but the calm found in trusting Him amid it all. Faith is not about escaping the mess of life. It is about finding meaning and strength within it. When I shift my gaze back to God, everything else fades in comparison. Love always outweighs the noise. Lord, thank You for the reminder that Your presence is my peace. Help me and all who feel weary today, to return to You whenever the world feels heavy. Tea...

Signs of the Times What started as a simple news clip I came across on Instagram about China’s digital system somehow caught the algorithm and suddenly, my entire feed was filled with videos about digital IDs. It felt eerily familiar. Back in high school, people were already talking about “the end of the world,” the rise of evil and a mark that would one day be embedded in human skin to track and control us. Now, I am almost 50 years old, I can’t help but notice how the signs of the times are unfolding before my eyes... earthquakes, floods, wars, innocent lives lost, children being groomed and misled, social media redefining our worth, the confusion of values, the normalization of sin and the persecution of faith. And now, with the rise of artificial intelligence and surveillance technology, it feels like we are being subtly conditioned to surrender control. I suddenly had a chilling realization... that perhaps the introduction of smartphones, QR codes, cashless payments and even NFC c...

A Lighter Day Today may have seemed uneventful, but to me, it felt like a quiet grace unfolding. I woke up feeling better... no drowsiness, no shooting pain in my arm, no swelling in my fingers [the steroids did good]. I could finally wear my ring again without struggle. Though a mild back pain lingered, my body felt lighter and so did my heart. My movements were easier, my thoughts clearer, my mood gentler. As I looked at myself, I realized, I am getting well. And that realization stirred something deeper than relief... it awakened gratitude. Healing, I now see, is not just the mending of what is broken, but the rediscovery of life’s simple joys being able to move, smile and breathe without pain. It is the Lord’s whisper, reminding me that every small step toward wholeness is a sign of His love. There are still aches, yes, but they no longer define my day. God’s mercy does. Loving Father, thank You for this gift of renewed strength and for every small sign of healing that reminds me o...

This morning, it suddenly struck me how discouraging it must be for others to see a sour-faced Catholic. I thought of the priest we often dread... impatient, sarcastic, his homilies more admonitions than encouragement. Yet I also noticed him smiling gently and speaking kindly to the seminarians during confession. Even in him, I see that holiness is not about being perpetually cheerful but about offering what we have to God... even in our flaws. I realize how often I, too, appear harsh or irritable. I find myself tense when cleaning the house or feeding the community cats, impatient with those who throw garbage carelessly or gossip loudly. Noise and disorder easily disturb me (even at work 🙊). And I see now that I present a poor example of a Catholic (and of someone who has consecrated her life to God at that). I feel guilty when I fail... when I throw garbage carelessly, when I scold my parents (... siblings... niece... neighbors...), when I react sharply to others... How can I guide ...

Sunday is meant to be a day of rest, yet my body felt heavy, my muscles ached and I felt the weight of age 🙈🙈🙈. We attended Mass, and thankfully returned home to wait for Fau and my brother to celebrate Fau’s birthday. By noon, I had not even finished our meeting slides. But thinking of my brother’s hectic schedule... driving late for another celebration, caring for a child with special needs... I realized how much more challenging life can be for others. I am truly blessed. Being with my siblings to buy medications after lunch brought a rare moment of calm. Even then, palpitations and panic rose as I reminded myself of the tasks left undone. But I paused, took a breath and reminded myself... IT IS SUNDAY... It is the Lord’s day, a day of rest. Lord, teach me to trust You in the midst of life’s busyness. Help me to accept rest without guilt, to see Your blessings even in fatigue and to find peace in Your presence. May I surrender my worries, my pacing heart and my endless “to-do’s” ...

Saturday felt like a day of rest, but it wasn’t. My schedule was full from the moment I woke up... early morning at the grocery, then a rushed check-up because the doctor had to leave for a conference, thoughts of finishing layouts, preparing for a meeting… and through it all, I barely had a moment to breathe🥴. In the busyness, I realized how easily life pulls me away from stillness... from God’s presence. Even in tasks that seem ordinary, I forget to pause, to center my heart, to offer each moment to Him. Lord, teach me to find You in the rush, to breathe Your peace into my hurried days. Let me not only act, but act with Your love and patience. May even my busiest hours become prayers, my small duties offerings and my restless heart a space where Your presence dwells. Help me to stop, even for a moment and remember that You are with me in everything. Amen.

Lately, I’ve been having strange episodes... moments when, in the middle of waking hours, everything fades. I close my eyes and for a few seconds or minutes, I drift away, unaware of what’s around me. Sometimes, even while celebrating Mass... what if I collapse while standing before the altar? I’ve been taking medicine for the shooting pain that runs down my left arm. A month has passed, yet the uncertainty remains. No clear diagnosis, only a silent suspicion of what my body is going through. Age seems to whisper its reminders of wear, of weakness, of slowing down. And yet, as I walk this road to fifty reflections, gratitude blooms stronger each day I wake. Life, in its fragile beauty, is still a gift ~ one more sunrise, one more chance to love, to care, to serve. I still rush, I still worry... for the people and pets entrusted to me... but I am learning to place everything, trembling and uncertain, into the hands of God. For when my strength falters, His grace holds me steady. When m...

Whenever we celebrate the Feast of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, I am reminded of God’s unfathomable love and mercy poured out through the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I think of St. Claude de la Colombière, her spiritual director, who helped her recognize how deeply Jesus longs for every heart to return to Him. With her feast, I am also encouraged to receive the Sacrament of Penance... that sacred encounter where Jesus not only forgives but chooses to forget our sins. This day is special to me for another reason: my niece was born on this feast day and received her second name from me ~ Margaret ~ in honor of this saint. Each year, her birthday reminds me that God’s mercy continues to flow from generation to generation. May she be blessed with an abundance of love, mercy and a deep devotion to the Heart of Jesus. Lord Jesus, make my heart like Yours... humble, forgiving, and full of mercy. Teach me to love as You love, to forgive as You forgive and to trust completely in Your Sacred Heart. Ma...

Tradition vs. Innovation I was reflecting on how the founders of many institutions and congregations began their missions. They started with a simple vision, set down clear and humble rules and gathered followers who shared their zeal. Over time, as these communities grew, the followers became more learned and began revising the rules to adapt to new needs and circumstances. Yet in the process of reform, the original purpose... the heart of the founder’s call... often became blurred. In some cases, even the founders themselves were misunderstood or set aside for being “too rigid,” when all they desired was to remain faithful to the spirit that first inspired their mission. I wonder if something similar is happening today. In our efforts to respond to the demands of the present generation, have we drifted from the simplicity and purity of the principles that once guided us? We often emphasize that “this generation is different,” that times have changed, and that we must evolve to keep u...

From Counting Losses to Counting Blessings Before I began my Road to Fifty Reflections... my personal journey of 365 reflections, I reread the very first entry I wrote on my blog more than a decade ago. I smiled at how I used to write so smoothly, but my heart felt the weight of those words. Beneath the eloquence were traces of resentment and pain. I remember how I avoided people, dodging every invitation that might make me confront the wounds I refused to heal. It wasn’t until 2019, after a life-changing encounter with the Lord in Jerusalem, that I finally laid down the burden I had been carrying for years. For the longest time, I measured my life by what I had lost --- the failures, the heartbreaks, the moments I fell apart. I rose and fell again, over and over, until I reached a point when life itself felt too heavy to bear. But the Lord... patient, merciful and faithful... never gave up on me. He gave me chance after chance, gently leading me back to life, one step, one grace at a...

I was hesitant to go Mass. I woke up weary, overwhelmed by work and a little discouraged. My niece’s comment about people who go to Mass daily but remain unkind echoed in my head, along with posts I’d read about how non-Catholics seem to live better than Catholics. I knew these were excuses... but still, I felt unworthy. Yet, in the midst of that hesitation, something in me longed to be near Jesus. To be present before Him, even in my sinfulness. So I went to Mass at night. The brothers were there. I’ve been praying for them, but in that moment, I felt their prayers embracing me too. It was as if the Lord was saying, “You are not alone.” Fr. Besa’s homily struck me deeply. He spoke of silence after the festivities --- after the grand celebration of Our Lady of La Naval, the novena Masses, the procession, the joy and noise --- comes the stillness. The quiet. The return to ordinary life. And yet, he said, it is in that silence that Our Lady touches our hearts. It is there, in the simple ...

Today, our church celebrates the Feast of Our Lady of La Naval. Fr. Felimon’s homily felt like a continuation of the podcast I listened to recently... it spoke once again of the power of prayer [through the intercession of our Blessed Mother]. He shared the story of Blessed Bartolo Longo, a man whose life became a living witness to how Mary truly is the BEARER OF HOPE. Bartolo had once fallen into the darkness of Satanism and even served as a satanic priest. Yet, even in the depths of his sin, Jesus never abandoned him. The Lord surrounded him with people who would lead him back --- one of them a professor and another a Dominican priest who introduced him to the Blessed Mother. Through the Rosary, Bartolo found his way from despair to redemption, from bondage to grace. His life so moved the Church that St. John Paul II later drew inspiration from him when he introduced the Luminous Mysteries... mysteries that shine with the light of Christ’s public ministry. I realized that no one is e...

I was listening to a podcast about a man who had a near-death experience. He said that after taking drugs and attempting suicide, he found himself descending into a dark, terrifying place --- hell. His account wasn’t as detailed as that of St. Veronica Giuliani, but there were striking similarities. He shared that he was pulled back to life because of the fervent prayers of the people his mother gathered while he was in the emergency room. It was unsettling to listen to. I tried to imagine what he must have gone through and even just the thought of it sent chills down my spine. He said it was a place so full of despair that you wouldn’t wish it even on your worst enemy. He couldn’t recognize any faces there... only countless shadowed figures lost in anguish. Before that, he said the devil had tempted him, offering a false bargain, “It’s now or never.” The promise of escape, of bliss after death, turned out to be the greatest lie. The reality of eternal separation from God... a life wit...

Inner Freedom: Throwaway culture vs Minimalism from a Franciscan Lens Lately, I’ve been sorting through my things again... boxes of old art supplies, unused clothes, little trinkets that once meant something but now just gather dust. I tell myself I’m decluttering, but sometimes it feels more like circling around my attachments, moving them from one place to another without really letting them go. As I do this, I can’t help but think about the kind of world we live in... Pope Francis calls it a 'throwaway culture.' We buy, use and discard without much thought. Not just things, but sometimes even people, time and moments. We rush to replace what’s broken instead of mending it (🙈🙊 this is so me) and we numb the ache of emptiness by acquiring more. But maybe what I’m learning, slowly, is that SIMPLICITY isn’t about throwing things away. It’s about receiving and cherishing what truly matters. It’s not an act of rejection, but of reverence.  St. Francis didn’t live simply because ...

Called Amid a Nation’s Confusion I was listening to a conversation while riding the jeep. The discussion turned to the current administration and the previous one. The wife boldly told her husband that if the previous administration’s leader were to return and run again for the presidency, he would win. While what she said felt disconcerting (even disgusting), I couldn’t help but think she might be right. Even if he were brought home lifeless, as a mere memory or a shadow of his former self, many would still vote for him. And that made me wonder --- who is at fault? The system? Society? The lack of awareness and education? Or perhaps the deep hunger and poverty that make people cling to any promise of order, even if it is built on fear? The driver added, “Those under the previous administration were afraid to commit corruption.” That statement, so casually said, was painful to hear... not only because it was untrue, but because it revealed how little some of our people truly know. The...

Called Like Mary I began the day with a Mass celebrated by Fr. Rogelio dela Rosa, a priest I’ve known since sixth grade, back in my Dominican school days. The Gospel reading for the novena Mass was about the Visitation (from St. Luke), but Fr. Dela Rosa spoke of another “V” word: VOCATION . He reminded us that it comes from the Latin word vocare --- “to call.” As I listened, I found myself wondering: How do we discern this call in difficult circumstances? What about those with little or no opportunity --- those not born into the faith, or those who have suffered deeply in poverty, neglect or abuse? How can God’s call be heard amid so much pain and limitation? And the Spirit whispered to my heart, "In every circumstance, every story, every life... we are all called," first of all, to holiness. We may have been born into struggle or into comfort, may have walked through pain or privilege... yet God’s hand is always at work, weaving meaning and grace into every thread of our li...

Loving what is Sacred Lord, You have placed in my heart a love that I do not fully understand a love that feels both tender and impossible. I see in him Your light --- patience, gentleness and fidelity  and my heart responds, not just to him, but to the reflection of You that shines through him. Teach me, Lord, to see love not as possession, but as reverence to hold beauty without needing to own it, to feel closeness without crossing sacred lines. If my heart aches, let it be purified, not hardened. If my longing burns, let it become a prayer. May this love transform me  into someone more compassionate, more humble, more faithful to the path You have written for me. Help me to love rightly not by holding on, but by letting go with peace; not by taking, but by blessing from afar. In this hidden affection, let me learn what it means to love with a serene and acquiescent heart a heart that seeks You in all things, and rests in Your will above all else. Amen.

 “This Is My Body” I came across a post that struck me deeply ~ a reminder that Jesus, in His infinite humility, chose to enter the world through the womb of Our Blessed Mother. He did not come as a spirit hovering above the earth, but as flesh, as life growing in a woman’s womb. In that moment, the Word became flesh and the sanctity of the human body was forever affirmed. Reflecting on this, I can’t help but think of how our world treats the body today... the way life in the womb is dismissed through abortion, how the body is often violated or mutilated and how even our understanding of who we are  --- male and female --- is blurred by confusion and pain. We live in a time that proclaims autonomy over the body, as if it were something separate from the soul, something we can alter or discard at will. Yet in the Eucharist, Jesus stands before us and says, “This is My Body.” These words echo through time ~ from the manger to the Cross, from Mary’s womb to the altar. They are a ...

I found the term... "hustle culture." Hustle culture, I realize, is often born not from one’s own will, but from pressure of what others might think.  Society has shaped a belief that we must always be doing something... working, producing, earning... as if stillness were laziness and rest were weakness. I have often been 'accused' of not doing enough, of taking on too much, of working double or triple jobs. But it was never for wealth or vanity. When salaries remain small and the prices of food and living climb higher each day, one cannot help but move, strive and survive (kahit nakakapagod na 😥)... Yet I wonder  ~ why do others feel envy instead of empathy? Why do people measure others’ worth by their busyness or possessions, instead of the sincerity of their struggles? If we could only look with eyes of understanding instead of judgment, perhaps the world would be a gentler place. At the end of the day, I remind myself that I’m not living to impress anyone... It’s...

There was a cloud in my heart today... I’m trying to hold on to TRUST... to believe that the Lord will provide... yet I can’t deny the fear that comes with financial struggles and the thought of not having enough for retirement. In these moments, I find myself turning again to Our Blessed Mother... I ask Her to teach me how to trust, how to hope, how to keep believing that God will walk with me through it all. She lived in simplicity, with nothing much to call Her own, yet Her heart was full of FAITH. God always provides what is enough... maybe not in abundance, but always in love. I thought, too, of St. Francis, whose feast we celebrate today. He and the saints never chased wealth or comfort. They embraced 'poverty' and found freedom there. It’s hard to understand sometimes, but maybe that’s where the secret lies --- when we have less, we cling more tightly to God. Still, I can’t help but think of my nephew, of the many needs of our family and even of my pets who depend on me...

Our Blessed Mother ~the paragon of humility, the quiet strength behind every “yes” to God. Yesterday marked the beginning of the novena for Our Lady of La Naval.  With Her enthronement, we hail Her as our Queen and Mother, our protector and our model of chastity. I formed a special bond with our Blessed Mother through a spiritual friend who would fetch me in the early mornings. Together we prayed the Lauds, and afterwards, the rosary that became the rhythm of our mornings. He introduced me to the Twin Hearts of Jesus and Mary and entrusted me with a prayer we could recite in common. He once drew my attention to the hands of Our Blessed Mother in Michelangelo’s Pietà. Her palms, open and empty, spoke of surrender --- total surrender to the Father’s will...even in sorrow, even as the sword pierced Her heart. Her willingness to embrace God’s will, no matter the cost, remains a lesson I must learn each day. As bearer of Hope, Her humility shines like a guiding star --- teaching me that...

I cannot accept certain ideologies, such as transgender activism that promotes gender ideologies, abortion advocacy and sexual behaviors that endanger children, because they cross moral boundaries that should never be blurred.  When I see them promoted on television, in books, in online games, on social media, celebrated in parades and even taught in schools, I perceive it as a deliberate effort to normalize what is wrong. What troubles me most is how this visibility affects children. Young people are impressionable and when they are CONSTANTLY EXPOSED to these messages, they may grow up confused about what is right and wrong. Instead of protecting innocence, society risks endorsing values that undermine it. While advocates may argue that visibility is about “inclusion” or “freedom,” I see it as an erosion of the moral foundations that hold communities together. Certain things, especially those that contradict natural law and put children at risk, should never be treated as accepta...

During a retreat at Good Shepherd, I found myself drawn to the Autobiography of St. Thérèse. I found the "Story of a Soul" on the prayer desk of a sister inside the chapel where I read some pages (I eventually biught the book). What stayed with me was how ordinary her life was... and yet, how extraordinary her love. So many within the walls loved Jesus in St. Thérèse. I remember that even my former superior eventually became a Carmelite a few years after I left. We all desired, in some way, to be like her because she showed that holiness could be lived in the simplicity of everyday life, just by choosing TO BE LOVE. Tonight, as I wind down, I listened again to Bishop Barron’s talk on St. Thérèse... and once more, I felt edified by her “little way.”