Showing posts from February, 2020


"If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts." Psalms 95:8

This verse appeared in today's readings, and how appropriate because it's the psalm that I would say has always haunted me ever since I became a lukewarm Catholic. 

The few times I'd hear mass over the years, I'd either hear this verse or see it written somewhere in the church. Is this a sign, I would always wonder. 

I don't know if I have hardened my heart against my Catholic faith; I feel that even when I wasn't practicing as much, I've always been praying and cultivating a relationship with God. 

Or maybe that's just what I think. And maybe this is why I am where I am now, almost inexplicably drawn to celebrate Lent in a way that is in keeping with Catholic tradition, hopeful to gain something at the end of 40 days. 

To be honest, my heart isn't entirely in it, but I feel like I just have to show up. What else could I lose?

If it's a broken heart then face it

On the bus, I spot a tube man flailing around in front of a newly opened shop. It reminds me of my niece, who, as a toddler, was scared of one we saw at a gas station during a pit stop. It's just a dancing balloon, I told her, it's funny. But she was terrified and we stayed away.

Weeks later, she would come to me hugging my four-foot long tube pillow, waving it about. What are you doing, I would ask her, not remembering. Auntie Dat, she would say, all laughter and glee, it's a dancing balloon! 

I haven't had the best week at work and in my life. I want to stay away, scared, but now, thanks to this random memory, I'm embracing this dark cloud inside me and waving it about. 

Ask me what I'm doing so I can tell you this: It's just a broken heart; one day, it will be funny.