It’s the best TTL rally I’ve been to so far I think. There was so much joy, passion and unity in the the SOWers. And Archieeeeee <3 Archie is quickly rising in my list of inspiring Catholic leaders. He’s cute, imba, and connects with us. And he wants to reform catechism classes. What more can we ask for? With Archie and Fr B leading the Catholic youths of Singapore, we truly have much to be excited and hopeful about.

But back to TTL. It was a good time of reminding, remembering and re-committing.

Because these two days were especially depressing. Yesterday, I received comments that the argument headings I drafted were not saying anything at all. That’s reminiscent of a criticism I got before. But this time, I had actually put quite a bit of thought into crafting the language of the headings. And since I think I write pretty well, and I enjoy the process of writing a memo because I think I can do it well, yesterday’s comment stung. Today, I got relegated to the role of formatting and doing citations, instead of writing a full memorial. Again, for the above reasons, that hurt.

[I hope my teammates don’t see this. And if you do, please don’t even suggest swapping. I refuse to jeopardize our team’s success for my ego.]

I’ve always seen writing as God’s gift. It’s one of the very tangible ways I think I experience God. So when the above events happened (in such close succession moreover), I felt that God had somehow abandoned or betrayed me.

It was at TTL today that I realized that the ‘gift’ had transmogrified (just because I learnt a new word) into an ‘entitlement’. And ‘experiencing God’ had become ‘using God’. Writing used to be the means; God was the end. Somehow, that relationship got inverted.

Is it inevitable that we lose something when we leave the retreat-rally context? Can we not retain, hold on, cling on to our relationship with Him? Or are those of us who serve God indirectly through our work in the world destined to be prodigal sons again and again?

I felt the embers flare up in my heart today. Then I think about whether the craziness of the upcoming 2 weeks will just inevitably douse them. And what I’m left with is only a desire, a desperation, a prayer, that He will cling to me instead.


One thought on “Prodigality

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About Mel

I dreamt I was a whale.