I love the story of the woman who washed the feet of Jesus with her tears. It must have been a remarkable sight, a desperate sight, a sad sight, a challenging sight yet ultimately a sight that says so much about the potential of our relationship with God.
How amazing it must have been to have lived when Jesus walked the earth. Imagine hearing him speak, imagine if he looked into your eyes…
We know that crowds followed him wherever he went, so much so that at one point his disciples thought it best to get in a fishing boat and push away from the shore a little just so that everyone was safe.
I reckon I would have been in those hot and curious crowds, desperately wanting Him to recognise me, to see the agonies of my soul, desperately wanting Him to be the saviour of the world…afraid that he wasn’t but so hopeful that he was.
His miracles and his authority would have gripped me, just as they do now. The stories of those seeking his healing are so human, so familiar-those desperate people with gynaecological problems, deafness, blindness; the forgotten, the lonely; the agonies of parents with sick children…that, for me, they resonate with authenticity. The tales are too timeless to be anything but the truth.
So I can understand how the woman, on hearing of his presence in her town just had to go to Him. She was a sinner, I wonder what she had done? Human nature doesn’t seem to change much so I can imagine the possible nature of her sin, the temptations that she might have succumbed to. I can feel too her repulsion when she entered into a full awareness of her sin. I can feel her sense of being lost.
People would have known of her past actions, so her presence in the Pharisees house would have been acknowledged. There was the sinner, the hysterical woman, the unworthy one.
She will have felt all of that from the people that were there, she will have seen it in their eyes, through her tears.
She needed to cling to Jesus, the source of all hope and love. She may have been afraid to touch him in the room filled with hostile eyes, so she could only weep and weep. She was crouching on the floor close to this man whose beautiful heart could bear all things.
Her tears though spoke to Jesus and he recognised how she was offering her soul to him, asking him to heal her, to make her new again. She kissed his feet over and over again, desperate for the healing that only God can give. She felt in her heart that he could do this, he could redeem her. And he did, he told her that her sins were forgiven.
God knows that we are sinners, that we rarely get it right but He offers us endless renewal and forgiveness if our hearts are truly sorry like those of the woman who wet the feet of Jesus with her tears and then wiped them with her hair.

I officially class myself as a bit of a coward.

It hasn’t always been this way, as although I have never thought that my views or opinions have any real significance or consequence compared to those of other people, there was a time in my youth that I felt that I could do pretty much anything I wanted.

Choosing to give up my teaching career, after finally acquiescing to the fact that many teenagers just didn’t want to know about God, morality or the implications of eternity, was one of the hardest things I have ever done.

Yes, for these young people the questions were too deep, for them the questions were seemingly too irrelevant; the analysis too tiresome, the answers too subjective and lacking in the sort of scientific rationalism they had grown to trust and worship.

Admitting defeat was ironically a very courageous choice for me, but I knew that the next few years would be difficult as I came to terms with the person I was and the decisions that I had made.

And indeed this has been true. I still feel a groaning sadness when I think of those hopeful and expectant years spent studying Theology, devoting my thoughts and energies to discovering more about the Divine. I feel the deepest dismay and disappointment and indeed still feel the faint echoes of terror and despair, when I recollect the tangible antagonism and aggression expressed towards me as I tried to talk about God.

At the time I felt like I was in a hopeless and treacherous den of lions, each one of them roaring and snarling around me. Why couldn’t I reach them, why couldn’t they hear me!? There was a time when they did, and teaching was the best job in the world… but in more recent years it felt like someone was muffling my voice, distorting my words, playing havoc with the symbiotic relationship that has to be at the heart of good teaching. Oh dear, I pray for all of us.

So yes I believe that essentially I have the mark of the coward etched in my flesh. Someone who let everyone down…God, parents, my pupils, myself. In many ways I feel it even more, that my voice is not worthy enough to be heard.

Strange then how the other day I heard someone talk about how so many today are not brought up to live the heroic life, the moral life. I must have heard this statement about a month ago now but I have been mulling it over ever since, contemplating the meaning of the words.

The speaker said that many people are brought up to think solely of themselves, to make decisions based on the most beneficial and comfortable outcome for themselves. Here in England we have a saying, ‘I’m alright, Jack’. Such a statement and such a way of living makes no allowances for unselfish kindness, free and overflowing generosity or importantly self sacrifice.

As I thought more about living the heroic life, I realised that this is what it means to live a truly Christian life.

Rising to the heroic life calls for sacrifice, it asks us to bravely take up our cross. It asks us to love our neighbour, to look after them.

It asks us to live a life for others. To make those brave and selfless decisions that advance the goodness of humanity and that, like the most magnificent multi faceted diamond, reflect God at every point.

It asks us to do what is right and good, rising above the demands of our passions and disordered desires and appetites.. It asks us to live a prayerful life, seeking to be ever closer to God through following the example of His son in the greatest sacrifice ever made.

It asks us to recognise and to acknowledge that the highest dignity lies in self sacrifice.

So my path is somewhat clearer now.

I want to live the heroic life, the moral life. I want to do good. I want to be humble and quietly courageous in my daily life and decisions, as I hold tight the hand of my Lord. I want to find the strength through prayer, to make decisions that might demand some sacrifice from me. I believe I have already been asked to make sacrifices in order to purge and purify me from my inherent pride and vanity and thus far it has been a very difficult journey.

I am fearful of so many things, I do tremble and cower… so I cannot say with confidence that I will be able to live the heroic life. But I am going to try.

I know someone who has been a regular church goer for many years, someone who is an active and visible member of their church. This person is involved in many of the groups within the parish which seek to offer service to those in need. This person would be of help to anyone who asked for it. This person has a warm and loving heart.

But this person finds it hard to pray.

I have often spoken to this person about prayer, about speaking to God as if you were speaking to a dear friend. I have spoken also about the effects of saying the rosary, of its quiet, intimate power which somehow manages to suffuse your whole life, offering peace in abundance. But my friend has remained still, a stranger to the intimacy of real conversation with the Father.

I knew too that my words would not help, but that my prayers would.

My friend has expressed an inability to know how to pray. Instead she encounters feelings of emptiness which lead to dismay and despair, which is but a step from a life lived in the shadow of darkness.

‘The words just won’t come’, laments my friend.

How then I was glad and heartened to hear that something had happened to change this.

Just the other day I was told, ‘I no longer have just a religion with God, I now have a relationship with God!’.

Prayers had been said for this person, in the Bible and prayer group to which she belonged. Prayers had been said over my friend in her home and she felt the power of them deep in her soul. She felt the Holy Spirit of God.

It bestowed joy in her heart and a desire within her to cleave closer to her heavenly Father, just as you run to your father as a child… desiring to be held close and kept safe from harm. She now wanted to talk with him and share with him the troubles and the confusions of her heart and the daily happenings of her life.

She had asked and she had received, something that she had not done before.

When I think of this world, of its magnificent beauty I know that my God is a loving and giving Father. He gives endlessly…and I ask endlessly! I do!

But this is because I know that I cannot exist without God. My soul would shrivel in the harshness of this man made existence which is often governed by selfish hedonism and futile materialism. God offers true life, not the empty life offered by this man made world.

So I ask God for everything, everyday. From the moment I wake I ask God to help me that day, to do His will and not my own. I ask God to help me be patient, wise and good with my children, to help me not to be greedy, to keep me safe as I drive along, to be a good wife full of integrity in my everyday chores and the list goes on and on… I believe that God wants this, I believe that He is happy to give to me, because it is clear that I am His and that I love Him and desire to be with Him forever.

But the story of my friend also reminded me of the words of the Virgin Mary at Medjugorje in 1989:

‘In prayer with the heart you shall encounter God’.

I love these words because it is so true. I just wish that everyone could become again like a little child and open their heart to God. Telling God everything that they feel, their hopes, worries, hurts- just as you speak to your best friend. Asking for Him to enter your heart and your life, to guide you and to help you. Recognising that you are a child of a Creator and who has been bestowed with many good things…and from that humble recognition crying out to God from your heart,’ Lord, let me know you!’. 

I sometimes feel that I am in an endless conversation with God, but in many ways I believe that this is the purpose of my existence. God hears and He will answer, He will…He is just waiting for you to ask Him.

‘Jesus is my Saviour’, ‘He is Risen’, ‘I am forgiven’.

I have always known these phrases, these words-there has always been someone saying them in a voice tinged with euphoric contentment and with a glistening eye on their eternal destiny.

But how empty these words sounded to me…not so long ago.

I could only listen, but my heart was cold to their meaning, my eyes reflecting nothing except the limits of my intellectual reasoning.

Now, however it is I who delight in saying them. My heart has opened up like a flower. They feel like living words, giving me a new life each time I utter them. It’s hard to explain but it feels like having my thirst endlessly quenched, like a perpetual satiation. It’s like looking in a mirror and seeing me… but also all of the love, wonder and mystery of the universe, of God- right there behind me and I am endlessly grateful and consumed by it.

I have recently been away, on a ship, cruising around the Mediterranean, visiting places such as Cadiz, Cephalonia, Dubrovnik, Venice and as it was Easter there was a priest on board.

It was strange attending Easter Sunday Mass in a room also used for the game of Bridge and Masonic Brotherhood meetings and it was even stranger trying to concentrate as the ship swayed from side to side in rather rough maritime conditions. The room was on Deck 6 which is quite low down in the ship and it also had low ceilings too and no windows, so my slight claustrophobia was awakened and I found myself going hot and clammy, trying not to panic. Thank God for the lovely priest whose words during the mass enabled me to transcend my immediate environment.

His sermons were characteristically brief and full of humour, peppered with jokes and anecdotes…but it was what he said on Easter Sunday that has stayed with me.

I went to a convent school and there was a crucifix in every classroom, so some form of meditation on the meaning of this image was an accidental preoccupation in certain lessons, in my case usually Maths. However I always encountered some form of difficulty in my ponderings, as I couldn’t quite understand the concept of Jesus as a crucified Saviour.

That was because I hadn’t really sinned at that point.

Now though I speak as someone who has sunk into the depths of sin, I have known how it feels to wilfully indulge in corruption and destruction so vile and I have known how it feels to realise that one has travelled so far from the source of all goodness. I have known how it feels to suddenly realise that you are in a pit of dark despair…yet there is a light above you to which you clamber and crawl.

So in that room, on that ship, on Resurrection Day the priest said that the closer we are to God the more aware of our sin we become.

Yes, I thought, this is true!

I lament the darkness I allowed and indeed allow, into my soul and the dreadful things I have done but now I understand the cross!

Jesus, as my scapegoat and out of love for me… suffered and died but then defeated death and all the powers of darkness, so that by some divine mystery my sins are forgiven and the gates of heaven have been opened for me, allowing me to have eternal peace if I so wish.

Now I can understand how it feels to proclaim that Jesus is the Saviour, because he is my Saviour.

I now look at a crucifix and see the greatest act of love that I can imagine. It humbles me, fills me both with sorrow at the evil I welcomed into my life and also with the greatest hope…as I know that there is God who loves me enough to save me.

I remember that when I was a child there was some discussion between my parents as to whether they should change my surname to make it more acceptable. My name is a truly Bengali name and carries with it the story of my fathers long journey by boat from a village near Calcutta to the hospitals of London where, early in his career, he worked as a doctor. I love to hear the stories about my dad’s early life in India and also the history of my Indian family too…my Great Grandfather who was a lawyer for the Maharajah but who lost his fortune due to grief when his beloved wife died and the Grandfather who was the editor of the Calcutta Times and who interviewed Gandhi. I wish that there were photographs of these people, but instead I am left to my imagination…
It was thought that I might experience some difficulties in having an Indian surname. I did not participate in any of these discussions but I remember when they occurred. It introduced a little echo of fear into my young life…I began to worry about what might happen to me, would I be hated because of my name and the colour of my mixed race skin, was life going to be difficult for me because of what I was?
In my teenage years and probably a bit before everyone was urged to use moisturizer with sunscreen, I avoided the summer sun and bought Factor 30 sun block as I was afraid of my skin darkening yet further. Thank goodness that I am over all of that nonsense now, as it made my back packing adventures to hot, tropical climes a little fraught with anxiety.
I suppose it was a taste of a perceived persecution, probably imagined… as my life thus far, has not been adversely affected by the colour of my skin.

All those years ago when I felt fear over the ramifications of my heritage, I could not imagine that at some point in the future those feelings would come back, albeit under a different guise.

Did I know back then that my heart would be set on fire for God? Did I know that everything would change when I replaced my will with God’s will? Did I know that love would transform me, lifting me up? Did I know that I would suddenly, as if for the first time, see the incredible truth and eternal wisdom in the teachings of the Catholic church? Me, who had probably broken every commandment ever issued by the church regarding behaviour and conduct? Did I know back then that I would find my life and beliefs at odds with a seemingly powerful current of atheistic and rational humanist thought?
No, I don’t think that I did.
But something has happened, things that have been talked about by numerous men and women throughout the history of the church, namely the time which I feel to be anti-Christ. I am not referring to a specific person here as I don’t claim to know anything about that or about anything really…but I am talking about a time when many of the values behind the laws put forward by those in charge of these things often appear to have come from those who are anti or indifferent to Christ.

It worries me as I too was someone who was probably indifferent at one point- I was probably very concerned with fairness, equality, humanism, rights and might have seen the Christian religion as holding these things back, so I know how easy it might be to believe that laws changing the definition of marriage, laws preventing people from wearing crosses at work, laws which in essence deny God and which trivialise and marginalise Christianity, are in fact right and just for modern society. I may have thought that people should be free to practise their religion, but only within a small and hidden area of social experience almost as if it was some form of a weekend only sports event.
How things change when one truly loves God and feels God’s love- it is real, it is alive, it brings about an internal revolution and you realise how God enriches your life with treasures beyond worldly imagination.
God gives peace…of heart, of mind, of spirit, of body. A peace that lasts and which isn’t dependent on money, our hobbies, other people or any of the other things that we might use to stay sane in this world.
Loving God adds the dimension of eternity to all that we do instead of existing as if eighty years is our lot, it calls us to love others as much as we love ourselves, to sacrifice for others instead of existing within a safe cocoon, to submit ones self to a higher power which is beyond earth bound values, to be humble instead of proud, ready to be a servant and gladly washing another’s feet…
Loving God swells your heart to bursting point but there is still capacity to love, because its origin comes from an eternal source, far beyond the understanding of the world. I am just not sure that an atheistic, rationalistic, humanistic society has this element of eternity within it that transforms all that a person does, thinks and says. I think of 1 Corinthians 13, where it basically says that if I do not have love then I am nothing and I gain nothing:
‘If I give all I possess to the poor…but do not have love, I gain nothing’
I suppose time will tell.
However someone chided me when I complained about this perceived marginalisation within society. I am happy to be chided, as I am always aware that my understanding may be limited. They explained to me that there is no real use in complaining, instead I should worry about my own life and ensure that I allow Christ to live in and through it, despite what might be happening around me. We may experience these troubles but Christ must live on in our hearts and in the little lives that we live, calling us always to be good, kind and courageous. Christ calls us to bring about a new Kingdom where His values reign supreme and it can only start with an individual, heartfelt conversion that shows its effect close to home, indeed it starts within our own home.
We have been told to carry our cross, which I have always understood to be about accepting my sufferings with humility and through devotion to God, but I wonder now if Jesus had another meaning in mind when he said this. Did he somehow know that the time would come when anti Christ forces within the world would seek to hide Him from view?
Was he telling us each to hold up the cross for the world to see, as a symbol of life, hope and love… for a world where the meaning of these things has been lost?

I love the name Grace. I know lots of lovely people who have been honoured with this name…but sometimes I wonder if these people really understand the meaning of the name that they have been given. Do they perhaps see it as a name denoting ease, poise and dignity of physical movement or maybe they see it as a name belonging to someone who has a certain beautiful delicacy of spirit or demeanour?
For me, the word Grace is both a beginning and an end.
It is an end to worldly attachment. An end to all of those addictive and seemingly innocuous things of this world…materialism, power, wealth. How we can spend an entire lifetime seeking to gain more and more of these things. I have written before about how I fantasise about having a home with no mirrors, televisions or unnecessary material objects. How many distractions are contained within my television set and indeed, looking back at me in the mirror? How my mind would be free! What would it then turn to? I know it would turn towards what is real, away from what is not. It would turn to God and to my journey within eternity, my journey back to God. The world makes us forget that we are on this journey, but we must be aware of how it seeks to make us forget…
Grace, for me is an end to self glorification, to selfishness. How we are encouraged to worship our bodies, to ensure their beauty and youthful appearance. How much time and money we can spend engaged in this ultimately futile pursuit? How much time and money have I spent on these things! For me, though, it is all an insatiable distraction designed to turn our heads away from the state of our soul. Have we not been warned about worshipping false idols! If we look no further than our skin then we pay little attention to our soul within…but what an ultimately dangerous game this is to play and we may only realise when it is too late!

Grace for me then, is an end to existence within the confines of this world… where we measure success by how much money we have or by how far up the social scale we might be. How pride and vanity rules when we seek to feel superior to others through the size of our house, our job or bank balance. Grace for me is a letting go of these things, these seductive chains that bind us and blinker us to the real nature of our existence. Something remarkable happens when we do…
So if we let go of our selves, the channels are then clear, our vision is no longer trapped and deceived by the false mirage of the world and we can then open ourselves to the God who is both alpha and omega.
Suddenly, we are free from the fears and worries that bind us to the things of this world and we can look outside of ourselves, we rejoice in the words of Matthew 6:19-34 (look it up!), we can take in the world as it really is, we can see beyond it into eternity and we begin to feel that great and immense power behind it…which is simply, Love. This is the beginning!
This is the beginning of Grace. St Ignatius of Loyola said, ‘Few souls understand what God would accomplish in them if they were to abandon themselves unreservedly to Him and if they were to allow His grace to mould them accordingly’.
I read these words the other day in a Lenten meditation and again I knew it to be true. I know it is true because it has happened to me! Believe me, I am so far from perfect and on a daily basis I do things and say things which I know do not come from God but how I feel the pain of sorrow when I stray away.
When I try to explain this experience of abandonment to God, it is hard to do without becoming too poetic… but it is easy when I envisage myself as I was, in the past when I lived for the world.

Busy worrying about my place in the world, striving for worldly achievement and money, consumed with vanity and pride, a slave to impulsive desires, selfish and ugly. I probably adorned myself with makeup and jewellery- my uniform at the time signifying my worldly addictions.
Now though I see myself standing with my arms outstretched to heaven, bathed in the light which comes from God, my eyes alight with love, seeking only to praise Him, love Him, thank Him for all that he gives to me. Things which are hard to appreciate if you have allowed the world to consume your soul.

My God and your God gives freedom, joy and peace.

He calls me to seek the Light always, to choose to do good, to be prepared to sacrifice, to recognise that I am a creature made in the image of God…which means that I have been made to both feel the love of God but also to show the love of God through my life. This is His call.

When I look back, I know that I have always believed that there is a God. In my heart I have always cried out for God to help me in various testing and difficult situations. I have always had an awareness that there is more to all existence than just breathing and seeking ‘good times’, where only fleshly desires are satisfied. God has always been the backdrop of my life, even if I haven’t given to God the love, honour and respect that such an amazing, compassionate and loving Father actually deserves.

For a number of years it was ok for me to inwardly believe in God and believe that I loved God- but outwardly, in my behaviour and in my words… to exhibit the opposite of this.

When I think of all the things that I have done which will have offended God, it is too much to bear. The selfish hedonism, the devouring materialism, the prideful ambition, the ugly vanity, the absolute carelessness, the destruction of innocence. Just writing these words and knowing what lies behind them is a deserved torture.

Just yesterday I read something that Pope Benedict wrote on his first Good Friday meditations on the Passion of Christ. He said that:

‘We have lost our sense of sin! Today a slick campaign of propaganda is spreading an inane apologia of evil, a senseless cult of Satan, a mindless desire for transgression, a dishonest and frivolous freedom, exalting impulsiveness, immorality and selfishness as if they were new heights of sophistication’

I read this several times thinking about each word and for me, I knew he spoke the truth. He is saying these things because he knows how so many souls are in danger, and they don’t even realise it.

I had lost my sense of sin. How easy it is to do in this world! I believe that I have been encouraged to do so and I have not been strong enough to realise what is happening. As I read his words, I knew that I had believed that I could do anything that I wanted-I believed that this was some form of maturity…freedom to do what I want was maturity. Oh, but what a slave I was to frivolous, careless and ultimately destructive hedonism. How at times I have felt the compelling rush of an impulsive desire and succumbed, thus taking yet another step along a deceptively malignant and odorous path, disguised as a ‘good time’.

I had lost my sense of sin, my understanding of what is right and wrong was perverted, and maybe I didn’t even care that it was.

How this period of Lent is such a great time to reflect? I have been thinking about the day when God called me and marked me out for something greater.

The day of my baptism.

The day when heaven gathered to witness my sinful and blackened soul being washed clean, when I asked to come home to my Fathers house, when I was told that a place has been prepared for me in heaven and will be mine if only I can make it unscathed through the endless temptations on earth, the day when the Holy Spirit of God began to run through every sinew of my being.

Those cleansing and purifying waters of baptism and that holy oil tracing the sign of the saving cross on my flesh and in my soul…mean so much to a sinner like me.

But Lent reminds me that baptism is not something that happened once, it is a journey that can take a life time.

So, gladly during this period of preparation for my eternity, I consider again how easy it is to turn my face away from God, attracted by some glistening worldly falsity, how easy it is to blur my understanding of what is good and of what is sinful. I consider those things which prevent me from seeing and seeking the truth of God. I choose to forgo those things, to purify my soul again, to seek goodness and wholeness before God.

I set my sights on heaven and think carefully about the everyday steps that I will take to get there.

I remember that I have been called to seek goodness and purity above all else, as I have been marked with the sign of the cross. Have you…were you once called to the path of goodness and purity?

My two children have just gone back to school after their February half term break. We had a very full and fun filled week, celebrating the seventieth birthday of my Father in Law, and indeed my own birthday in the middle of the week. Somehow we managed to go to the cinema twice, donning our 3D glasses as we did so. The sight of my four year old in them really makes me smile, the glasses are just slightly too big for his little face! Anyway we had a thrilling adventure on the Mysterious Island and another intergalactic escapade courtesy of Star Wars!

I was endlessly and gladly attending to my little ones. Very little time was spent thinking about myself. I know that the time I spend with them now, listening to them, talking to them, caring for them is time well spent, as it will shape their future and have consequences that may reach far into eternity.

My mind is only just settling back into adult mode and as soon as my two were dropped off at their educational institutions, I knew that I needed to get back to this blog. I had planned to write something yesterday but my computer seemed to take an age to install some updates thus preventing any literary activity…and then it was time to pick up my youngest from pre-school.

But as it turns out, that is all well, because at daily Mass today I was reminded of what I need to write. I have realised, since I started to write this blog in September of last year, that there are certain ideas that I keep coming back to. This worried me for a while but now I feel that for the time being it is important for me to write about the merits of humility and also of how we should endlessly consider the eternal consequences of our time on earth.

I almost couldn’t believe it today at Mass, as the readings were said. It was as if all of my most favourite and poignant teachings had been combined into one service, the ones that ricochet around my soul on a daily basis, and I knew then that I had to write about them. Maybe what I write today might encourage someone to think about their eternity and of what they want it to be like…

This realisation has been made even more significant, as yesterday I received some very shocking news that someone I had worked with a few years ago had suddenly and unexpectedly died. It brought home to me again the absolute need to be ready for eternity. I hope and pray very much, that my ex colleague was ready for his future in eternity.

So, today at mass in the first reading I was asked,

‘Do you not know that to be a lover of the world means enmity with God?’.

Wow! Haven’t I spent most of my life feeling this to be true? Haven’t I realised that so much of this world…namely the deceptive materialism, the struggle for worldly acknowledgement serves only to detract from God. The reading went on,

‘Humble yourselves before the Lord and He will exalt you.’

Wow! Haven’t I come to realise that it is through a humble heart that one truly comes to know the ways of God? Haven’t I felt the Love and power of God flooding into my heart when I allowed my self-imposed barriers of pride,self love and vanity to come down?

And then in the Gospel reading Jesus tells his disciples that the Son of Man will be killed, only to rise again after three days. The story tells us that his friends then started to argue amongst themselves over this, quarrelling over who would be the best person to continue the work of Jesus. They were being led by pride and vanity. But Jesus told them, in another of my most favourite passages that,

‘If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all’.

Jesus took a child into his arms and told his disciples that a child signified so much of what constitutes true discipleship. Wow! Haven’t I told anyone who has asked, that for me, faith is like being a little child before God the Father? Looking heavenwards with wide, open and trusting eyes awaiting His instruction. Haven’t I also irritated my husband on many, many occasions…usually when some flash,sleek, black executive car risks everyone’s lives by speedily overtaking our slow, little, old and often muddy transportation on some dangerous road… by suggesting that he who is now first in this world will be last in the next!? Slow down, I cry to the rear lights of the impressive car, where are you really heading?! Will your impressive car really take you there?

So then this half term week, one spent humbly attending to my family, to the souls of my children… has taught me much. In my daily work and through my children, it has reminded me of how to be a joyful and a humble servant. It has reminded me of how quickly this life on earth will pass, how in one moment it can be gone and indeed will be gone…it is only a matter of time. It has taught me again that I need to be ready for my eternity, as I will never know when my time might come. It has taught me of the need to be humble in the midst of this proud and noisy world, because a humble heart is a silent and still one. And it is often in stillness and in silence that we can truly hear what is of most importance…that is, the voice of God who will, if we let Him… lead us to an eternity in Paradise.

We, along with much of Europe, have had snow.

Those in charge of gritting the roads have done a good job this year and the roads have seemed to be more passable. We live on a farm in England and I am very lucky to see fields and open spaces in all directions, so when it snows it is fantastic for my two young boys, aged four and six, who are free to have loud and wild adventures in the snow. And it is never anything but loud and wild!

The other day they wanted to go out in it as soon as they had woken up, at about six thirty. The fact that they were wearing pyjamas didn’t dampen their enthusiasm in any way! That was an early start, getting them all togged up to go out, as the sun was still rising. They burst out of the house in their hats, gloves, coats and boots and immediately made snow angels!

They were outside for hours. We made a snowman which lasted for ten minutes, before they delighted in knocking it down (my boys like construction and DESTRUCTION!) and then we attempted to make an igloo. It’s still there, albeit slightly misshapen and soggy.

We all had lots and lots of snowy fun.

But after the laughter I was drawn to the expanse of field behind our house. It was covered in snow and the path around it had not been touched by any human feet, only those of rabbits and foxes. I felt a deep desire to walk around the field. Snow seems so quiet, if you know what I mean and after the snowballs, snowmen and icy construction work I wanted some.

So, followed by our elderly black Labrador I started to walk around the field. The boys laughter and commotion gradually became more and more distant and I really felt like I was in a new world of white purity. As I looked closely I saw that the snow glistened, as if it was suffused with some precious diamond. The branches of the tall oak trees were adorned in this, and looked as beautiful as they do when in full leaf. The air felt clean and vivifying and I breathed it in deeply. The blue of the sky seemed much more vibrant and expansive.

Then it dawned on me that I was the first human being, ever, to tread on this snowy carpet that lay before me. These billions of perfect and unique snow crystals, which had fallen so softly from the heavens were totally untainted by anything. I wanted to tread gently, in full awe of its beauty and of the splendour it was showing to me.

I was making my way along a pure path.

I looked behind at my footprints in the snow and I looked ahead, aware of my journey.

It felt like a metaphor for the path that I have chosen in this life-the way of God is the pure one, glistening with simple beauty, asking me to be humble and good. It is the quiet and still one… but if you look closely it has myriad upon myriad of precious jewels and mysteries, too many for the eye to behold. Yet these jewels are those that are to be held in the heart as one travels through life. As snow melts and disappears… the treasures of God reside in the heart, and the memory of them sustains forever.

I will always think of the path that I have chosen in this life, as I imprint upon the pure and undefiled snow. I want my life to be like the snow…I want my steps upon it to be quiet, still, humble… but suffused with the most remarkable magnificence, the glory of God.

I yearn for Paradise, I hope for Paradise, I imagine Paradise.

People often ask me why I believe in God. It saddens me when they say that they wish they too had faith. I think to myself…what is stopping you? Could you be the one who is stopping the Holy Spirit from transforming your own life?

I want to say- just ask from your heart and it will be given to you, God is with you now, just waiting for you to look in His direction and to return back to all that is good…to Paradise.

When I am asked about my faith, I now speak honestly and openly. Faith is so amazing. It gives you something that this world, which is full of dead ends, can never supply.

People push me further to explain the place that it plays in my life.

It gives me deep and abiding peace, I say. It makes me want to do good, be good. It makes me search for the most loving response, which is often not the easiest one, by worldly standards. It restores the right order and balance to my life, which would otherwise be upset, if I allowed myself to be beholden to this world. It provides me with the deepest sense of purpose. It allows me to speak to God with an open heart and to hear his answers to me. It enables me to see the Divine in the so called mundane.

But mostly it suffuses and invigorates me with the most magnificent sense of being loved and cared for by the Ultimate Creator. This cannot be underestimated, it changes you in ways that never seemed possible when you lived as if you were just an insignificant and accidental part of this fluke of creation.

As if the living impact of these reasons were not enough, I want to exclaim…Paradise! Faith makes me want to create Paradise in my heart and soul, then in my family, then in my little world…but it also makes me want to belong to it for eternity.

Everyday I am aware of my eternity. Again, never underestimate the way that this makes you feel. This world, I want to tell my enquirers is just one part of our existence. Don’t you feel this to be true deep, deep down? Do you really believe that all of this…the deep feelings and mysteries of your heart, the unselfish love you feel, the innocent lives and smiles of your children…are actually all ultimately futile and meaningless?

God’s grace has always allowed me to see beyond what is immediately visible, I see the hand of God all around me.

There is a future beyond what we can imagine. How hard it is for us to envision, when different and enticing worlds are being created all of the time…we have cyber world, the world of fashion, the world of music, the world of art, the world of the consumer, the world of the social network and countless others. Why would we want another? These myriad of created worlds can contain and constrain our vision, they can distract us from looking deeper into reality. They can prevent us from contemplating our true selves…our soul.

They often don’t give us time to be silent and still… and thus we cannot hear, let alone unite with, the true heartbeat that sustains us all.

Paradise then, the hope of an eternal paradise informs my faith…I want to tell my enquirers. Pure, lasting happiness and joy. Glorious Love forever. Being in the presence of God after this seemingly long and difficult exile on earth. No more suffering, sadness, desperation, anger, confusion…in Paradise these things have no place.

It is waiting…I am waiting. I must be ready and worthy of such an eternal reward.