What the Anthurium taught me!

Dr. Agnes S Thomas

“I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.” (1 Corinthians 3:6-7)

With the promise of spring approaching after our long, cold winter, I began preparing and hoping for another green season filled with propping, pruning, and tending to my garden. Watching life slowly emerge from the frozen earth, as if waking from a long slumber, is truly nurturing. There are many reasons I cherish this time of year beyond the marvel of colour and bloom. Spring stirs something inward. It invites reflection on the natural world and offers us many pearls of wisdom.

One of the first thoughts that surfaced–like the tulip shoots rising in my front garden–was the notion of space. The simple act of bringing out houseplants that had been sheltered through the long winter brought with it a reflection: the need to create, offer, and hold space so new life can grow and thrive.

The first plant that needed attention was my Anthurium (“tail flower”)–gifted to me three years ago by a friend. Still in its original wrap, it had continued to bloom faithfully, flaunting its bright red laceleaf. However, beneath the glossy leaves was another story. This resilient plant had grown and expanded far beyond the limits of its small plastic pot, quietly supporting new saplings that had sprouted underneath, unseen and nearly suffocating.

As I removed the old wrapping, I noticed thin strands of roots poking out through the drainage holes. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The plant looked weary and unbalanced, heavy with tangled, old and new interwoven roots, and its leaves were slightly misshapen. Clearly, it was time for a change. The saplings needed their own pots if they were to flourish.

Six pots later, I still had a few left to rehome. Lining them up in a row, I felt a surprising sense of relief for both them and myself. Gently detaching each tender shoot from the mother plant required patience and care. It’s never easy to cut and separate, even when you know it’s necessary. Still, I was cautious not to damage the roots, cradling each sapling into its own space, helping it feel safe enough to begin again. A few were bruised, and some roots slightly torn, but the leaves looked strong. I knew they’d be okay. They just needed some extra care and time to adjust to the change.

As I watered the last plant, a few thoughts occurred to me. We humans are not so different. To truly grow and thrive, we need space to expand and develop. We must metaphorically detach from the umbilical cord that gave us life–not to sever the connection, but to discover our nature, path, and place in the world. Even in our individuality, we remain shaped by and rooted in the love and nourishment of others. Our identity and sense of belonging are grounded in those early, often unseen roots.

The need for space is part of the natural cycle of life. No one should be denied the chance to grow. Whether by choice, passion, or calling, we are all called to observe this pattern–to tend to those in our garden, offering what is needed: space, light, water, pruning–whatever supports flourishing.

Yet even as we branch out and grow into ourselves, we still need support–the wisdom of elders, the nurture of community, the comfort of familiar soil. Like plants, we are not meant to grow in isolation–unless by design. And even then, we carry our essence with us, flourishing in the light and company of others while remaining true to who we are.

It is a genuinely intertwined and mutual way of existence–being present for one another while staying rooted in our identity and calling. It’s not a power dynamic, but a delicate balance of care and autonomy–a beautiful rhythm to witness when held with grace.

As I placed each pot along the windowsill, my final reflection was this: growth requires care, gentleness, and attention. Mutual care and responsibility are not just virtues but lifelines. They allow each of us to stretch toward our God-given potential, to blossom into who we are meant to be–in the great, interwoven garden of life.

 

-Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in

The Face of Mercy

Dr Agnes S Thomas

“Mercy is not an abstract idea, but a concrete reality through which God reveals His love as that of a father or a mother, moved to the very depths out of love for their child.” (Pope Francis, Misericordiae Vultus, 2015)

As we mourn the passing of Pope Francis this Easter season, many have reflected on the gifts he bestowed upon the universal Church and each of us. In working with people on the margins of society and individuals disenfranchised for various reasons, one theme consistently emerges: mercy. What we witnessed in the death and resurrection of Jesus is the merciful face of God; what we observed, too, in the everyday actions and witness of Pope Francis was the living embodiment of that same mercy.

Why is mercy so important? What does it mean in the everyday making of our homes, communities, and society in general?

Many images come to mind when I think of the word mercy: Jesus on the cross, the Good Samaritan from the Gospel. I also consider how mercy plays out theoretically: how and why it relates to power relations and power imbalances, values, and approaches to justice and injustice. Pope Francis, on many occasions, as the leader and shepherd of the Church, has shown us that the merciful face of the Church is the face of God: a face that welcomes, forgives, and shows kindness to all without prejudice, especially when values, traditions, and practices do not align with the ideal.

From my observation, such acts of mercy have brought many back to the Lord. This stance has undeniable fruits and lessons, including the understanding that justice and kindness go hand in hand, especially as reflected in Pope Francis’s example of the field hospital he spoke about and which was often referenced by many.

In doing what is right and following protocol, we sometimes inadvertently forget the humanity of the person we are trying to help. This is where the merciful face of God, the Church, leaders, parents, and people in positions of influence becomes crucial. We are called to create safe spaces for those who find themselves vulnerable due to social, economic, or personal circumstances that do not align with the norms of our expectations. When power relations place someone at a disadvantage, it becomes our sacred responsibility to protect and affirm their dignity.

Bringing and being the merciful face of God into our work, communities, and homes challenges us to examine whether we are truly welcoming; whether we acknowledge differences without judgment; whether we create hope without being condescending or paternalistic; whether we share opportunities equally; and whether we value every person, whoever they may be, as a child of God. It also calls us to move beyond the comfort of our being, to break the status quo, to love without condition, and to forgive one more time.

More importantly, irrespective of place or people, when mercy is a core value reflected in the structure itself, justice is served and restored, dignity is preserved, and power relations are addressed. This occurs while still respecting the order and structure of a formal setup. Acting with mercy does not contradict values and guiding principles; rather, it aligns strongly with their guiding spirit.

This approach creates space for dialogue, listening, and letting go of outdated ideals that no longer serve but only hinder growth. Instead, it builds on the foundation that we are loved immensely and forgiven without measure. This is what is expected of us: to be the face of God to others.

Such an attitude will build, heal, create, and unify—not divide. It will bear fruit for the Kingdom of God on earth, where all people shall live in harmony. This is the beautiful image and legacy of Jesus, and through him, the faithful disciple, Pope Francis, showed us the way.

With gratitude for the life of Pope Francis and being part of the global Church that reflects the merciful face of God, I pray we all become that face of God wherever we are planted: to serve, to create homes, and to build communities.

“Mercy is the beating heart of the Gospel. It is the force that reawakens us to new life and instills in us the courage to look to the future with hope.”(M.V., 2015)

 

-Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in

 

Are You the Beloved?

Dr  Agnes S. Thomas

When life hits hard, it’s easy to forget that we are the beloved. Reflecting on what it means to be a ‘Pilgrim of Hope,’ inspired by Pope Francis’ call for the Jubilee year, one thought has risen for me in recent weeks: to embody hope and become a sign of hope for others, we must first own and acknowledge our ‘belovedness’–that intrinsic state of being that does not waver with our status or circumstances.

How can we recognize our ‘belovedness’? We can begin by no longer wavering or stumbling in our search for worth, even in the face of adversity. This unshakable truth anchors us and grounds us in the knowledge that our value is not conditional. This awareness connects us to others and to the world and becomes a source of hope–not just for ourselves, but for everyone we encounter.

Our ‘belovedness’ compels us to love once more, to forgive once more, to extend kindness once more, and to rise after we fall. It reminds us in moments of doubt that we are worthy, precious, and enough.

What does it truly mean to be the beloved? How does this identity manifest itself in our daily lives? And what happens when the world tells us otherwise especially when faced with rejection, disappointment, or pain? Who do we choose to believe, ourselves or the external voices?

Being beloved is not a status we earn; it is a gift granted to us as humans. It is a state of grace that all must nurture and protect.  Only after doing so do we begin to perceive the world through the lens of someone loved, valued and nourished.  For children, this ‘belovedness’ often comes more easily–provided they are surrounded by safe, stable, and loving environments. Like flowers in a garden, children flourish when they are nourished with affirmation and their inherent preciousness is cared for by those around them.

Yet, our world is far from ideal. Many of us did not grow up in environments that affirmed our ‘belovedness.’ Instead, we were taught–through words, actions, or neglect–that we were burdensome, unlovable, or broken. These wounds linger, and shape how we perceive and interact with the world. They become narratives we carry silently, hidden from the light, distorting our sense of worth.

So, the question becomes: How can we change this narrative? How can we break the cycle and create a world where we reflect one another’s ‘belovedness,’ reminding each other of the sacredness of our worth?

It starts with us. Individually, we must embody this truth and allow it to transform our hearts. Like salt to food or yeast to bread, our transformations can have rippling outward effects that create collective change. We rise together to build and create, but this must begin with a commitment within ourselves.

This transformation manifests when our families and communities embrace the spirit of ‘belovedness.’ They must become spaces characterized by sacrificial love, patience, endurance, and joy. ‘Belovedness’ should become the standard by which we make decisions, treat our neighbours, operate workplaces, and connect with one another–even across our differences. By practicing this, we cultivate environments where hope and love flourish.

Admittedly, this vision may sound idealistic, even unattainable, in light of the destruction, suffering, and pain surrounding us. But I find hope in the cracks of our brokenness. It is through these cracks that light enters. The rejection and pain inflicted by those we once trusted may leave scars but also create openings for healing and transformation. When we address those wounds and release their hold over our hearts, we begin to return to the state in which we were created: beloved, worthy of love, and capable of sharing love with those around us.

If each of us commits to entering this season of life with the conviction of our ‘belovedness,’ we can create ripples of transformation. Over time, these ripples grow into waves, building families, neighbourhoods, and communities where people recognize their own preciousness and treat others as precious too. From this conviction springs radical hope–a hope that the world can be transformed, one light at a time, as we hold our light up to one another.

Let us live as the beloved and become pilgrims of hope. In a time and place where hope is scarce, let us fight cynicism and fear by embracing our ‘belovedness’ and sharing that truth with the world.

 

-Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in

 

 

Courage to Be

Dr Agnes S Thomas

There are times in life when our courage and faith are tested, leading us to question whether the challenges we face are allowed by a God who loves us unconditionally and eternally. The Courage to Be is written from the perspective that after all rational justifications for pain and sorrow have been exhausted, the issue of personal courage is placed into sharp focus. This reflection briefly explores the internal and external demands of courage and its impact on our choices and outcomes, with the hope of encouraging further contemplation and dialogue on its central role in our daily lives and in the world where we operate and influence others.

Understanding Courage

Courage is the strength to confront life’s realities in fullness. It is the ability to navigate internal struggles–pain, suffering, and fear–while also standing for what is right in the external world. It is the endurance to face hardship for the sake of truth and the humility to seek help when needed. Sometimes, we encounter people whose embodiment of courage challenges our understanding of it.  I am reminded of a humble woman of little means that I met.  She had an extraordinary ability to mobilize people for important community causes. She went door to door, encouraging open conversations and fostering unity. When she confided in me, she admitted that her courage was not a matter of boldness but rather a conviction that one must rise above personal discomfort and do what is right for the greater good of the community. Sometimes, this meant seeking forgiveness for things she had nothing to do with; other times, it meant letting go of someone’s misgivings and engaging in a personal conversation rather than a public confrontation.

I received another powerful lesson in courage from a friend involved in street ministry. He worked with individuals grappling with addiction and homelessness, among other hardships. His inspiration and courage stemmed from the people whom he served: “I learn from the very individuals I try to assist. They teach me courage every day–those who wake up and confront the harsh realities of the street, the brave souls who enter addiction recovery programs, and the single mothers yearning for a safe space for their children. Their resilience reminds me to keep showing up, even when hope feels distant.” He also emphasized that courage comes from having trust in God at all times.

Courage in Leadership and Everyday Life

As I embarked on my leadership journey, a friend in a leadership role at a prominent institution shared a piece of wisdom that has stayed with me. Quoting Nelson Mandela, he said, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.” These words are relevant in all circumstances–whether leading an organization, making difficult personal choices, dealing with pain, or standing up for justice. Courage is not a fleeting act but a daily decision, an action verb, and the foundation of perseverance.

The individuals I mentioned above remind us that courage is not just about grand gestures but about choosing to act despite fear and doubt. It is about trusting that we are not alone in times of struggle and despair. Without courage, we risk becoming prisoners of fear, allowing opportunities to slip away and making choices that lead to more suffering–not only for ourselves but also for those who depend on us.

The Call to Live Courageously

Courage should be an inherent virtue for those of faith–one that is nurtured, shared, and used to live and let live, inspiring the world with it. Courageous individuals accept and welcome reality as it is; they create safer homes, stronger communities, and a hopeful world.

In a world where fear and doubt constantly seek to take center stage, choosing courage means building an empire of hope, lighting the way for us and others, and standing firm in the belief that we are never alone on this journey.

Let us pray for courage to seek goodness and joy in our daily lives. Let us encourage one another to be each other’s keeper in times of trouble.

  • “God is our refuge and strength,

    an ever-present help in trouble.

    Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea”

    (Psalms 46:1-2)

-Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in

Advent: A Season of Listening

Dr. Agnes S Thomas

As kids, preparing for Christmas was just as important—and magical—as the day itself. Those with musical Talent honed their caroling skills, while the creative ones built mangers using sticks, hay, and anything else they could find. Then there were the star makers, crafting shining symbols of the season. It was a time of immense joy, filled with hours spent in the church. The experience was both fulfilling and fun, something everyone eagerly anticipated. Notably, it was a season free of shopping—a tradition I still try to uphold as much as possible.

As an adult, my reflections on the season shift each year. Sometimes they are deeply influenced by the social or political climate; other times they are shaped by the tidings of my faith journey. Regardless of the situation, I often wonder how Mary and Joseph would have responded, what Jesus would have done, and so on.

As the season approaches this year, I am reflecting on a talk by our Archbishop, the Most Reverend Francis Leo. At a recent event, he spoke about listening, a sense of community, and hospitality as the antithesis to polarization. These are also core themes of the Christmas story, which is still unfolding.

Listening and discernment were central to everything that unfolded during Advent and afterward, enabling promises and prophecies to be fulfilled across generations, lands, and people. It makes one wonder: what if these events were to take place today? The circumstances would look so different with all our technologies and social advancements. There would be no need for a donkey; with the right resources, one could choose a mode of transportation to suit their preference and comfort. Accommodation options would be abundant and communication would be instantaneous—there is no need for a guiding star when GPS and smartphones are at our fingertips. There wouldn’t even be a need to travel. A video call via Zoom or WhatsApp could replace an in-person visit and gifts could be sent instantly, just a click away. But would these advancements help us discern what is truly good, deepen our connections, or bring us closer to one another?

While the question of whether the advancements of our society are genuinely accessible and equally beneficial to all remains, I want to shift our focus to how listening and discernment made the impossible possible during the first Christmas. Remarkably, the good news of that time continues to be shared—not stored away on a shared drive or in some cloud space, but living and active in our world today. This leads to a profound question: What if we, as humans, dared to pay closer attention to the stirrings of our hearts and the dreams within us? What if we truly mastered the art of deep listening—to ourselves, one another, and the world around us? Could we then become bearers of good news, channels of goodness, and beacons of hope in a world yearning for light?

Through deep listening and discernment, Mary, Joseph, the Magi and the shepherds knew precisely what they were meant to do. They recognized whom to follow and which direction to take, reading the signs of their times with clarity and conviction. Despite their challenges, they found the courage to act, trusting in a promise far greater than their understanding. They followed a bigger star, a more profound truth, and an enduring hope in their hearts.

We, too, could partner in grander plans—plans that bring joy, peace, and prosperity to all—if we genuinely commit to listening and discerning as Mary (Luke 1:26–38), Joseph (Matthew 1:18–25), the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12) and the shepherds (Luke 2:15) once did. They were humble and simple people, but what made them special was their willingness, availability, trust, and faith—virtues that allowed them to become partners in God’s grander plan.

In this Advent season, as we reflect on the state of our world—a world fraught with turmoil, pain, and polarization—we are called to a deeper listening as people of faith. We are invited to pray for the grace to hear the cries of the poor, the broken-hearted and the oppressed. As we have witnessed in the Christmas story, this act of listening is not passive; it is the foundation for discerning how we can respond with justice, kindness and compassion.

Pain and Suffering in the Circle of Life!

A recurring and often-debated topic among both the young and the elderly in religious and non-religious discourse centers on the views of sadness and joy, and/or scarcity and abundance. These discussions frequently reveal a common theme – an inclination to associate suffering and pain with punishment for past transgressions, the sins of our ancestors, or even as a curse upon our families. This prevailing perspective can lead many to view God as a stern figure to be feared. Thus, casting a shadow of doubt over the image of the forgiving father depicted in the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-24).

Engaging with the curious minds of young individuals often leads to some poignant questions. They asks, “If God is loving and merciful, why do tragedies befall my family, friends, or siblings?” Others question the existence of violence, war, and calamity, wondering if these are the handiwork of a benevolent deity. In such moments, a fundamental question emerges: Is suffering a creation of God or a consequence of humanity’s insatiable pursuit of power, privilege, and unbridled greed? Are the poverty, war, and natural disasters that plague our world the result of humans straying too far from love and the common good? Are we fostering a generation that is driven by self-interest and devoid of empathy? What are the consequences of neglecting to offer nurturing guidance, and to show care to people/children in our charge?

Here, I delve into one facet of suffering—human-induced suffering. However, we also suffer daily, from various sources such as death, illness, and loss. These experiences collectively form the intricate tapestry of our existence, blending sadness with joy in varying degrees. Anyone who attempts to evade pain and suffering unknowingly weaves an illusory protective blanket around life that dilutes its inherent meaning and purpose. By rejecting pain and suffering rather than embracing it, we inadvertently ensnare ourselves in a cycle of avoidance, perpetuating enduring issues for ourselves and those around us[ES1] .

The journey toward comprehending, accepting, and finding meaning in life’s delicate balance of pain and pleasure often commences in our formative years within the sanctity of our homes and immediate surroundings. It demands candid, untarnished conversations, free from avoidance. Adults, parents, and elders must be willing to traverse life’s intricate ebbs and flows with children, unveiling that life, much like the natural cycle of birth and death, encompasses scarcity and abundance, pain and pleasure, sadness and joy. Our responses to these inescapable facets of existence are matters of personal choice, independent of divine retribution or the transgressions of our forebears. While we can mitigate their impact through informed decisions, life only truly attains depth and purpose when we acknowledge its inherent duality.

A brief glimpse into the lives of saints and change-makers who have left indelible marks on the world reveals portraits of bravery and fortitude. Their journeys were not devoid of pain and suffering; indeed, they were interwoven with threads of joy, love, and an unwavering commitment to the path of enlightenment.

As parents, family members, teachers, and community builders, one of our paramount responsibilities should revolve around creating safe spaces for individuals, particularly children, to openly discuss pain, suffering, and the precious gift of life. This endeavour aims to liberate us from the superstitious cycle of judgment, fear, and avoidance of pain by ushering in a gentle acceptance of life’s intricate truths. It endows us with the courage to confront our challenges and the willingness to seek assistance when necessary. Suffering should not be a source of shame; rather, it serves as a wellspring of invaluable lessons and an invitation to delve deeper into the enigmatic mysteries of life.

Are we open to sharing our fears and strategies for navigating pain? Do we encourage seeking help when needed? How do we diligently ensure that conversations about pain and suffering occur alongside discussions of joy and abundance, nurturing a profound sense of gratitude for our lives? In our approach to life’s inevitable trials and tribulations, can we follow in the footsteps of the saints who have walked this path before us, and emerge with grace and enlightenment? These are the questions that beckon us to embark on a journey of deeper introspection and compassionate dialogue, ensuring that the next generation is equipped with the wisdom to navigate the intricate tapestry of life.

-Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in

Love that transforms fear!

The themes of joy, love, fear, and suffering are often on my mind concerning people and relationships that I encounter. Like many of you, I see the way evil manifests in the way war and other forms of destruction deeply impact many of us and the people and communities we care about. It breaks my heart to see the young and old alike struggling to find meaning in the chaos of the world and, in turn, dealing with anxiety and fear every day and being afraid to love and trust. I also see how a world in turmoil dominates our conversations, making us doubt each other and be weary of hearing others talk about love, justice, and mercy. In essence, it robs us of joy and fills our minds with fear of one another and the unknown. While we might feel comforted by the distance from conflicts and disasters, it’s vital to recognize how they influence our lives, choices, and perspectives.  They’re like an uninvited guest silently occupying the center of our homes, even as we strive to keep our doors shut against the world’s perils. It controls our real and imaginary lives, plans, and how we treat one another. What can we draw our faith/spiritual journeys during times of darkness, and what does it teach us about dealing with darkness?

In my own journey, the resurrection narrative offers valuable lessons and hope about overcoming darkness with light. It shows how fear is taken over by love and turns into joy. The reassurance and the gentle care for one another are felt so deeply in the reading of Matthew 28:1-10. The message of love and peace and our call to be the messengers of that good news are summarized in three key phrases here: “Do not be afraid” (which is brought up repeatedly), “Peace be with you,” and “Go and tell others.” The resurrected Jesus, the angel, and the women present and their relatively short encounter that morning changed history. If we are able to place ourselves in the story, we too can see living our own stories of love, despair and suffering and the joys of resurrection when we overcome the shadow of death. However, how often do we believe we are people of the resurrection?

The life, death and resurrection of Jesus tell us we have nothing to be afraid of, and in fact, we should be messengers of the same.

The women at the tomb are waiting, watching, and taking a risk with their lives to be there for the one they believe was their messiah, offering humanity a lesson on radical love and courage.  Love transformed their fear and made them courageous warriors, faithful in waiting and wanting to do the right thing amid agony and sorrow. They also had to overcome their doubt to believe what they saw and share it with others. They became the first ones to deliver the message of hope after the darkness overtook their town and their hearts with the death of their beloved leader.  The women at the tomb show us we too can be witnesses of the light and be the peace givers; encourage the ones around us not to be afraid in the face of adversity; we too can become the light bearers for others who are feeling abandoned and in the dark. They remind us of faithfulness and radical love as essential ingredients to eliminate darkness and fear from our homes, communities and countries. Another important lesson from the story is that to be messengers of love, you don’t have to have special privileges, money, or fame.

 There are leadership lessons in this story for people, be it in family life, community, and leading nations, that the most essential gift you offer others is your genuine love and kindness, a radical act to be in service of the other.  It can be as simple as creating safety, providing peace in times of struggle, and leading by example like the women. If there are enough of us to choose love over fear and be bearers of good news, we may change the world order to be one of peace and harmony. Thus, our news will be ‘good news’ every day, and people may experience the true meaning of resurrection, which is radical love! 

 -Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in

The Garden that Keeps Giving!

This reflection centers on another one of my valuable lessons from the garden. In the fall, we prepare our garden for winter. As part of this winterizing project, we cut, prune, and plant bulbs or spread seeds for spring. Much like life, gardening is an exercise in patience, resilience, and careful nurturing. Every cut and every seed planted mirrors human growth and the lessons we learn through hardship and discipline.  It also symbolizes reciprocity in life.

This reflection focuses on observations made and lessons learned after last year’s winterizing project. My gardening partner particularly enjoys this phase more than any other task. However, it’s not one of my favourites, as I often empathize with the plants during the cutting and pruning. Yet, I recognize it’s necessary for their growth.

As usual, the garden was cleaned up, and the grapevine roots were almost unrecognizable—short and stumpy, a stark contrast to the long vines and lush green leaves we had appreciated throughout the summer.  I felt the dogwood had been pruned too severely, but knowing my tendency to criticize anyone who removes even a single leaf, I let it go as one of my pet peeves.

When spring arrived this year, it brought with it the first signs of life from the garden. The grapevines, as expected, took their time to show any growth, often challenging us on our fragile trust and patience in the natural cycle of life. This time, however, it wasn’t the grapevine that worried me but the dogwood, which stood lifeless, with no new sprouts or leaves well into summer. No amount of prodding, extra soil, or water seemed to help; it refused to budge. This led to my grumbling about my partner’s pruning skills.

Around the same time, a few conversations about parenting choices and discipline among family and friends made me reflect on our grapevine and dogwood situation. The grapevine is accustomed to deep cuts, being reduced to its basics each season to prepare for vibrant life the following year. It nurtures its life deep within, ready to bloom again. Two things happen with the grapevine each season: it embraces its role in flourishing and demonstrates the resilience to endure the necessary pruning for a bountiful harvest. It knows its purpose, and anyone tending to it must recognize that pruning is vital for its growth.

In contrast, the dogwood had been pruned too severely, so it couldn’t return to its flowering season on time. It needed an entire season to show any signs of life, let alone produce flowers.

Both plants needed pruning to survive the winter and prepare for their flowering season, but they required different approaches tailored to their unique nature and strength. Only then could they return to their fullness.

The lessons these plants offer are clear. Like humans, each plant is uniquely designed and requires different types of care and experience to reach its full potential. Like plants, we all respond to pain, disappointment, discipline, and criticism with varying levels of resilience. Some wither under life’s hardships and need extra support to recover, while others bounce back with remarkable strength. A few even embrace pain as a catalyst for growth. Although the process is highly individual, we all share a common goal: to bear fruit and contribute to one another in this interconnected existence.

From a human perspective, these lessons on pruning emphasize that discipline is often uncomfortable, even painful. There are seasons of darkness, solitude, and invisibility, yet through these periods, we grow. We are shaped and moulded until we are ready to bear fruit and bring forth the results of our labour.

A second important lesson for gardeners, teachers, parents, and caregivers is to be mindful of each person’s sensitivities and uniqueness in the vast garden of life. Understanding an individual’s capacity to receive discipline, feedback, and care is essential to their self-realization and growth. Comparing a grapevine to a dogwood and treating them the same could harm both. Therefore, we should celebrate each individual’s uniqueness while honouring our shared humanity and collective purpose in this great garden of life.

In the garden, as in life, growth requires attention, patience, and respect for each unique journey. By learning to nurture with care, we help one another bloom.

“He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” (John 15:2)

 -Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in

 

 

Family – Our Window to the World

Family blog banner image

“The family is the first essential cell of human society.”– Pope John XXIII

We live in a time when the foundation of family and its significance are more critical than ever. The dictionary defines “family” as a basic social unit consisting of parents and their children, considered as a group, whether living together or apart (dictionary.com). This definition suggests that family involves both children and adults, hinting at a hierarchical structure where children depend on adults for their well-being and development. It also underscores the relationship between adults as fundamental to how children understand relationships, making adults responsible for modelling healthy behaviours and life choices.

In this article, I will explore a few of the fundamental gifts and pillars of a healthy family and how these serve as windows to the world for those fortunate enough to be part of one. I will qualify my reason for describing the family as a blessing. From my interactions with children and adults, I’ve learned that some express deep gratitude for being part of a positive and healthy family. Others feel they were denied the opportunity to grow in such an environment. I hope that we can reflect on the kind of family we should aspire to create and understand its significance in shaping a better world for all of us.

Family creates a place of belonging 

As a mother of three and someone who grew up in a large extended family with siblings and many cousins, one fundamental aspect I’ve learned about family is the sense of belonging it provides. Based on my experience, our first awareness of being part of a group begins at home. When a family creates a sense of belonging for its members, they feel rooted and emotionally safe. This starts with the adults, who begin to cultivate a sense of safety and belonging when they foster and model security in their own relationships. 

Freedom to express joy or frustration with family gives us the confidence to be authentic. At the heart of this experience is a sense of safety and care, knowing we won’t be judged for being ourselves. 

Family blog quote

Another example of belonging and family, provided by a young person I mentor, is the feeling of being validated and caring for one another. This, in turn, helps them appreciate relationships and leads them to want to eventually create a similar structure. 

Key characteristics of a family where everyone feels a sense of belonging include acceptance and inclusion, where individuals feel safe being themselves and are appreciated. Shared experiences, consistency in how family members relate to and rely on one another, and a sense of safety in each other’s presence all contribute to this feeling. Additionally, belonging is strengthened when each person contributes to the family’s well-being and is acknowledged and valued. 

Family is the first book of life bound by love 

As a bookworm, I like to think of family as a book that offers life lessons and shapes the members’ worldview through its teachings. The adults in the family—their relationships and actions—are like the book’s chapters, providing critical lessons for the children in their care. Based on my experience and that of my peers, I would divide this book into four key areas with love as the thread that binds each chapter: 1, Dignity, Respect and moral compass; 2. Faith and spiritual development 3. Healthy Relationships and Social Skills 4. Construction of the world view. 

While it may not cover every aspect of family life, I highlight some as central to my understanding of family and reflect my observations of children who carry these lessons into their choices. Although I won’t elaborate on how children often bring fresh and unique perspectives to life, I want to acknowledge that they can be great teachers for adults, especially when they are given a safe space to ask questions and express their thoughts. 

Family shapes the sense of self and dignity with a moral compass 

A well-run family offers values for developing and leading a worthy life deserved by all. It teaches lessons on how to discern right from wrong. For example, it is in the family that a child first learns that lying or stealing is unacceptable. In their formative years, children learn if it is okay to share feelings and/or confess wrongdoings. Their parents’ reaction will determine their future course of action. 

They also learn to respect themselves and others by setting boundaries and caring for their health and well-being. One adverse effect of adults not setting correct examples in these areas is that children lose the opportunity to develop the ability or skills to navigate or choose things or relationships that are good for them, making them vulnerable in their external surroundings. 

Family offers the first lessons on faith and spiritual development 

Drawing from my example, one of the best gifts I received from my family was my faith. My parents played a crucial role in developing my spiritual foundation and personal relationship with God. 

As parents, my husband and I draw from our own experiences of growing up with evening family prayers as a central part of our lives, though we’ve made some adjustments. As we continue this tradition in our household, we view it as a way of passing on the faith we received in our childhood to our children. We all appreciate the check-in time we’ve added to our prayer routine, which offers moments for reflection, fellowship, or even the chance to discuss or debate something one of us feels strongly about. I believe this practice is essential to the well-being of our family. 

Family is where one should learn healthy relationships and social skills 

Many of us can agree that one of the first lessons we learn in a communal family setting is the importance of community and social bonds. Our internal familial relationships give us the confidence and encouragement to seek friendships and social connections without fear. Looking back, I believe this was where we first learned to mirror external relationships, respect different perspectives, and appreciate various communication styles. 

No one goes through life without experiencing conflict, grief, or mistakes—these are inherent to being human. Our response to adversity often reflects the skills learned from our earliest social unit: the family. 

Family is where we first learn to communicate, forming the foundation for how we interact with the world. It’s also where we learn to cope with difficulties, and our responses outside the home often replicate the behaviours modelled by the adults around us, for better or worse. 

In today’s increasingly diverse world, how we encounter people, cultures, and beliefs different from our own is primarily shaped by the lessons we first learn and observe at home. 

Family is the first window to the world 

The family shapes the initial worldview, influencing how a person engages with the world and treats all of creation. 

Interacting with young people and couples often reminds me of how the adults in their lives shaped their understanding of the world. I see two distinct perspectives among them. Some are deeply sensitive and dedicated to the common good, feeling responsible for the well-being of their friends, neighbours, and community. Others view the world as existing primarily for their own needs, with loyalty confined to their immediate circle. Both mindsets reflect what they learned from their families about their responsibility to themselves and the world. 

Family is where a child first learns to value or ignore their role in building a shared humanity. When families model generosity and reciprocity beyond their homes, they teach children the importance of interconnectedness and equality rather than a hierarchy of values. 

In sum, we all recognize and appreciate that a healthy and solid family structure is critical for a healthy and solid society, and we are responsible for creating and supporting one where people grow and thrive. In offering gratitude for families, I am also acutely aware of the need to intentionally pray for families to be a place of belonging where people learn, grow, find their God-given purpose on earth and become a gift to the rest of the world. 

“And whoever does not provide for relatives and especially family members has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Tim 5:8). 

-Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in 

The Life of a Sunflower and Its Example of Humility

Sunflower farm

Dr. Agnes Thomas 

“Humility, however deep it be, neither disquiets nor troubles nor disturbs the soul; it is accompanied by peace, joy and tranquillity.” Theresa of Avila

Sunflowers are lovely; they rise high and stand tall in suitable soil. What I admire most about sunflowers is their beauty and how their bright colour can lift the observer’s spirits. But what makes them truly special to me is the reminder they carry. Every time I see a sunflower, I am reminded of the virtue of humility, especially regarding relationships. Allow me to expand. Let me explain how these plants remind me of the virtue of humility and what they can teach us about relationships grounded in humility. For example, a sunflower takes approximately two to three months from seed to bloom; that is an entire season and the lifespan of that plant. A single sunflower has roughly a thousand seeds in it, and they are highly nutritious when fully ripened. If vital life relationships were like sunflowers, able to be planted and nurtured for the duration of their life, they, too, would be a beautiful bloom to watch. Similarly, when properly nurtured, relationships produce many fruits that can nourish all those around. So, in this brief reflection, I aim to examine what we can learn from the sunflower and how humility serves as a pillar for good relationships.

A fully bloomed sunflower head is slightly bent as if offering itself to the world in praise and glory for its life. It reminds me of many great people who led and contributed much to the world, having that posture of humility instead of pride and an “I am above everybody” attitude. The sunflower offers a lesson in how we should position ourselves. When in glory and filled with the seeds of life, like our gifts, talents, and positions of influence in our private and public lives, we must remember that our calling in life is to serve others. We are in relationships not to seek dominance or compete but to be present.


I used to think humility meant living in the shadows and making others believe you are less than them. However, from experience and the many good people who influenced my life journey, I learned humility is about acknowledging and accepting the truth of who we are. False humility can be disastrous for us and others; it shows us that if you pretend to be something else or feel obliged to, you are either in the wrong place with the wrong crowd or not self-aware.


We all know it is easier to live, work and participate in projects with humble people. So, what makes humble individuals so appealing? They are easy to be around, open to learning, and accepting of both perfection and imperfection. They constantly seek ways to grow and are comfortable with their humanity. Whether in personal or professional relationships, we all want to be at ease and respected for who we are. Humility enables us to connect with others in a way that is both desirable and authentic, much like the sunflower.


As Mother Theresa famously said, “If you are humble, nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are.” A humble person is self-aware; a self-aware person knows their flaws and gifts. In relationships, they accept others for who they are without trying to prove superiority or foster unnecessary competition. Their self-awareness allows them to be open to learning and growing with others, understanding there is always room for improvement. Humble people are not swayed by fame or shame, success or failure; they remain grounded and content with themselves, like the bright sunflower—always pleasant.

Another gift that humility brings to relationships is mutual respect and a high regard for others. Like the sunflower, which stands tall in a garden alongside different plants, a humble person remains confident without being clingy. Sometimes, I feel that this plant offers a perfect meditation on worship, as a graceful offering of gratitude to our Creator. The sunflower is beautiful and serene, unaffected by its surroundings, constantly striving to be present.

A relationship founded on humility fosters mutual respect, learning, and gratitude. This foundation leads to peace and spreads goodness in the world. Like the sunflower, humility radiates joy and light.
 

-Originally published in https://lightoftruth.in