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About Kat_mira

Hi! My name is Cynthia Aralu. I started this blog to write about anything that comes to my head basically. Anything on my mind that I need to get out. This blog runs along the same wavelength of my catalogued thoughts series which I started later on, on Instagram. However, when I really think of the theme of this blog, what springs forth readily to me is, "From Here to Space". Here, being the established and space being, the largely unexplored. I write because words flow from me, through me, in me, and my voice has never been the greatest at conveying them. I post because I want someone out there, in some corner of the world to read and connect deeply to my words. I want to provoke thought and bring peace to people through my writing. I also want that person reading to feel a little less alone in the overwhelming vastness that is this universe.

Discipline

By Cynthia Aralu

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

I would like to start off this post by recommending a YouTube video. The weirdest thing happened to me this week when I played it on my phone. The volume on my phone kept going down. Each time, I would turn it back up, the volume would automatically turn down low, close to being silent, until I intervened and turned it back up. I started praying to God to protect me, calling on the name of Jesus. I probably asked for the intercession of Mary (this is becoming a habit) and St. Catherine (I was watching a video about her, so it makes sense), and it desisted after a short while. All in all, I relied on God to do the fighting. I did not have to restart my phone or change any settings on it, so it was a very weird thing. This happened on Tuesday night in my bedroom. It is God’s grace that I felt no fear, instead, I was ready to fight through the only way I really know how to, through prayer. The video is titled “The Apostle of the Blood of Christ: St. Catherine of Siena”. Here is the link, go and watch: The Apostle of the Blood of Christ: St. Catherine of Siena

St. Catherine of Siena is my patron saint. When I chose the name Catherine for my confirmation name, I did not realize what I was doing. I just thought the name to be a pretty name. That was until recently, maybe last year, that I learnt about her, and I found myself relating to her experiences, one of which is her extreme fasts when she was just young. I have a weird relationship with food. When I was maybe 12 or 13, I started rigorous fasts from food, not for good religious purposes unfortunately, but to lose weight because I was called “fat”. There were times when I went for long hours—once I remember even a full 24 hours—without eating because I simply forgot. When I did eat, I ate ridiculously tiny portions, maybe once a day, coupled with a small snack (cheese balls). While it was a rather bad reason that caused me to engage in this, I cannot deny when I look back, that as a child I had so much discipline, a grace and a gift from God.

4 years ago, I came to the recognition through the study of the Bible, that nothing happens without God knowing or allowing it to happen and everything that happens is ultimately for the glory of His name, that is, for good. Isaiah 45 tells this bit very clearly. I learnt that it is pointless to be mad at God or to fight God and as much as we are important to Him, as much as we are loved by Him, we are nothing. I recognised that this is hard to accept but I believe acceptance of these things is key to managing anxiety.

I gained understanding of other facts as well, such as facts about gratitude, hope and love – gratitude to God while weighed down by troubles, hope that suffering is not forever, hope that God will show his glory in the situation, Love, God’s love, which shields our hearts even as we hurt, such that the pain is dull, and we know we are not alone. I had another pang of anxiety after I had learnt these things, and so I told myself these things and I felt my heart grow stronger and the anxiety leave me. You see, “My life is in God’s hands. Nothing happens to me without His consent. It is part of His plan, and He shall be glorified through my situation. I am not alone. Never alone. God walks with me. So, I should walk through life lightly.”

So, when in the video I spoke of earlier, Bishop Barron mentioned that St. Catherine received a Divine Word about her relationship to God, “You are she who is not and I am He Who is.”, I could understand it. Watching this video has helped me to remember the revelation I received from God years ago. It is easy to forget so I am thankful to remember.

I find it interesting how I have had in my life, strong bursts of faith, only to be faithless afterwards or moments of Divine inspiration without even realizing it, until I go back to read what I have written and I am amazed, but it all goes to show that even the burst of faith or Divine inspiration which I have experienced in my life, is all because of God’s grace at work in my life, and being here right now in my journey to know Him and to be like Him; all this could only be God’s doing.

The religious life requires discipline but even more so, the religious life requires God Who supplies us with the Grace we need to encounter Him, to be transformed by these encounters, in order to draw us even closer to Him with a discipline that is only possible through Him, with Him and in Him. I am hopeful when I think back to the child I was, that God will supply me once again with an even stronger discipline with which I will be able to dwell in His house forever to behold His beauty that surpasses all understanding.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A song you can listen to!

Was the Man Jesus?

By Cynthia Aralu

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

Hope you are keeping well and are in good health. Another weekend is almost over and the time goes by so quickly.

The events of this past Wednesday has me evaluating my thoughts towards people extending their hand to me for a handshake during the “exchange of sign of peace” at mass or perhaps my response to people in general. Since the Covid-19 pandemic happened, I do not shake people’s hands without feeling like my hand is completely deadweight until I wash it or use a hand sanitizer. So, I generally do not shake people’s hands outside of church or in church. At my old job in London, when I was in a situation where a person reached out his hand for a handshake, I shook his hand out of politeness, but I waited until the person was away from me to reach for the sanitizer. Throughout the conversation with the man, all I could think of was my hand which I had to sanitize for it to be usable. I feel as though the use of the sanitizer became something of a programming to me, considering the nature of my old job and the medical environment in which I worked. I am not as stringent as I was back then about using a hand sanitizer after a handshake, but I still do not like shaking people’s hands because all I can think of is germs.

At the church I attend daily mass, I believe it has happened twice to me now, that people have stretched out their hands for a handshake. The first time, I came close to not shaking his hand. I mean, it was like a hand dance, with me pulling my hand back and then stretching my hand out again for the handshake. I didn’t want to be mean but I ended up being weird.

The second time was recently this past Wednesday. I didn’t pay much attention to the man at first. The first time I noticed him, I think I vaguely saw him walking around. The second time, I did not even look in his direction. He was a row ahead of me, at the far-left end, reciting the words of the priest at consecration and I thought, “Who is saying that? Only the priest is supposed to say that.” I vaguely remembered seeing that somewhere so, I am not sure this is true, but I did not take my eyes off the priest, the Host and the Chalice.

Then, it was time for the exchange of the sign of peace and I looked in his direction. He did not turn around to acknowledge anyone until the Agnus Dei was being said. Then, he moved to tap the shoulder of the lady in a row ahead of him and I thought, “Maybe he knows her.” He shook the lady’s hand and then moved towards the man standing in the same row as him and I thought, “Oh, he is shaking hands.” I immediately went to my knees, since the Agnus Dei had been completed and hoped my kneeling and prayer posture would deter him from approaching me to shake my hand. It didn’t. He extended his hand to me next, and I could not ignore him or be mean to him. So, I went first with my left hand since he had extended his left hand, but I remembered my Nigerian upbringing and extended my right hand instead. For context, it is considered rude in Nigeria to use your left hand to collect things from people or give things to people, including handshakes. The man in front of me had a disability; it looked like he had a bit of a hunch back and the palm of his left hand was shaped in a such a way that I actually could only fit my right hand in the palm of his left hand and not my left hand, that it almost seemed like he was taking my hand for a dance.

“Soft.” I thought when my hand connected with his and I beamed up at him, happy to have gotten the handshake right and he beamed back at me. I suppose I have never felt a hand so soft.

When he walked away, I looked at my hand and I held it away from my other hand, thinking of germs. Then a thought crossed my mind that, “For all I know, he could be an angel.” So, I dropped my reservation and clasped my hands together in my normal prayer pose.

During communion, he was in front of me on the line and when he got to the minister, I watched him get on his knees with a struggle, and I thought, “Why is he kneeling when he can’t? He must have great reverence for God. I will be doing this as well when I am old. Should I help him?” But he got on his knees and so I left it alone.

When it was time for him to stand up, I noticed he struggled and this time, I rushed to his side to help him. As I tried, I realized I didn’t ask his permission, so, I stopped to ask him, “Do you need help?” He responded in a low voice, “Yes.”. I tried my hardest to help him up, but he did not budge, and I was not lifting the man. Then after a moment, he lifted his leg to give a bit of traction to his rise, to my joy which was short lived, because I tripped, and the man and I began to fall sideways. Thankfully, someone else, came to the other side of him just at that moment, as though timed, and steadied us, and we were able to get the man to his feet.

Considering the poor job I did, I had to ascertain that I did not hurt the man, so I asked, “Are you okay?” He nodded and gave an enthusiastic “Yes.”

I nodded in satisfaction and stepped back slightly to give him space. Then he stood there for some moment not moving. “Give him time.” I thought. So, the line for communion was held up, but honestly, I would have stood there for as long as he needed. He looked back at me with serious eyes as though searching, and then turned around to leave in the opposite direction from where he would need to take to get back to his seat; in the direction of the priest on the second communion line. “Why is he going that way?” I wondered. I had to go receive communion, so I looked away from him.

I got back to my seat and wondered where he went to and as I left the church, I wondered, “Did he leave the church?”

The event replayed itself in my head after mass as I made my way home, and I considered the moment we almost fell. I remembered how I had been meditating on the 4th sorrowful mystery the day before, “The carrying of the cross”, and I had considered that Jesus fell three times and He did not try to save Himself from the fall but relied on Simon of Cyrene. I could relate to Jesus’ fall in a better way and also to St. Simon helping him. My next thought went to his final glance back at me, and I thought of his studious gaze, and it felt so familiar like I had gotten that look before in a dream about Jesus. Goosebumps washed over me when I thought, “Was he Jesus?”

I suppose one of the remarkable things about this event is that prior to this, I had been wondering if I would continue kneeling to receive communion even when I am old and I was unsure, but I got my answer when I saw him get on his knees.

I have replayed this event in my head so many times I have lost count, and I have reached the conclusion that my actions would have been different if I thought the man to be Jesus from the very first moment in which I noticed him. I would not have knelt to avoid him, neither would I have had any issue shaking his hand, and when he struggled to get down on his knees, I would have rushed to him without thinking too much about it. So, I am re-evaluating the way I respond to people. In any case, if indeed the man I met was Jesus, he was quite patient with me.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A song you could listen to!

Second Chances or a Millionth

By Cynthia Aralu

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

I noticed yesterday that the theme of this week in Church, starting from Sunday, has been about the “Holy Eucharist” and I believe it is not a coincidence that I have experienced the things I spoke of in my last post.

It makes me feel that God is truly present and active in my life. Especially when I pause to think that He has given me a chance to right the wrong from my past, that is, my denial and disdain of who I am. I am thankful to God for this. I also have a chance to use my latent headstrong nature that doesn’t care about being the only one doing a thing, towards bringing glory to God, and for my salvation, as well as the salvation of others. An intention I have made recently before the Blessed Sacrament is for God to restore me to the moment I got baptized, so it is no surprise that I am being transformed to the child I once was before the corruption or into the child I am meant to be.

This is not the first time that God has done so either. I have been in a situation, where I made a bad decision the first time. In my repentance, I hoped for another chance and it did come to me. I did the right thing the second time without any struggle or thought and a man who’d noticed the interaction, looked at me wondering why I did so, but I ducked my face because I got shy from his attention. I believe the old woman must have been an angel or sent by God for that to even repeat itself, because what are the odds? Of course I think this in retrospect, many years later.

Okay, I will share what happened. I wasn’t going to.

I got on a bus in Lagos, Nigeria, and then an old lady turned to me and quietly begged me to pay for her fare and I ignored her. I got home and I told my mom about it, saying, “Why would she ask me to pay for her fare?”, and my mom told me I should have done so, since I had spare money. At the time, it seemed illogical to me, that the lady got on the bus without her T-fare. I distrusted it, like it was some sort of scam, so I ignored the old lady. I felt so bad about my mom’s words. I had not expected censure because I thought I was right. So, I prayed or hoped to God for another chance. Another time, I think on the same bus route, there was an old lady. The conductor asked her for her T-fare and he got aggravated because she ignored him. Then, she turned around to me and told me to pay for her T-fare. My eyes widened and I paid for her and for me, without a word. The conductor looked at me with confusion written all over his face, and I looked down. There were many people in that bus. The old lady could have looked to the left or right of her or even to the people around me or said something to the conductor, but she looked back, squarely at me and asked me to pay for her T-fare (she did not beg). That has never repeated itself again in my life.

When I ponder on all this, it makes me think and believe God will do the same in other ways in my life.

In case anyone is wondering what happened on Thursday, when I got to the church, I prayed to Jesus for the strength to go through with it and I prayed to Mary for her help. Then, I got on my knees and received communion on my tongue. The next day I prayed to Jesus and Mary because I know I have a fickle heart and I knelt once again to receive communion on my tongue. My ascent still needs work but I’ll get there.

I believe if people complain ceaselessly about a lack of reverence in the Novus Ordo Mass without doing anything about it, in the way of their actions at said mass, then it is all noise. I have never had a problem with a Novus Ordo mass. I grew up in it, both Latin and English versions, and it had all the reverence, the incense, the music, the altar service, the kneeling to receive Holy Communion on the tongue, the altar rails, the fervor, the participation and the love of the congregation. So, the mass itself is reverent. It is the actions of the members that are lacking, from the priest to the congregation.

If a church in a different country keeps the altar rails while another church in another country decides to do away with the rails, paten etc., and yet both use the Novus Ordo liturgy, is the liturgy less reverent or are the religious leaders less reverent? This is not to idealize the church which kept the rails because the Catholic Church around the world needs people that do the right thing.

I didn’t even know about this discussion about Traditional Latin mass until I moved to Canada, and my mom had not heard about the Traditional Latin Mass until I told her about it. It is only when I travelled abroad that I attended masses where people were not enthused in their responses if they did respond (memory is vague but there was a lack of fire I felt). I believe it rubbed off on me. Now being here in Canada, I have responded and I have sung. I have noticed the fervour in the churches I attend change over time, so much so that the priest of the church where I attend Sunday Mass has thanked the congregation for the generosity of their participation.

It takes everyone.

The priest should show reverence when giving Holy Communion to communicants or when handling the Holy Communion, bearing in mind that he has in his hands The Body of Christ. The communicants should receive the Holy Communion and appear before the Holy Communion with reference, bearing in mind that they are standing before Christ’s Body and acting as they would if they believe Him to be visibly present. Praise and worship are due to God, so the congregation should respond to the priest, knowing they are giving justice due to God.

Preaching about reverence is a good thing but even better is when the people move to action.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A lovely song written and sung by a friend that you could listen to!

Standards

By Cynthia Aralu

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

Recently, I got told that “I like to do ‘Holy Holy'”. This is a Nigerian way of saying I was overdoing the practice of holiness in this person’s eyes and that I loved to do so a lot. It was an ordinary thing I mentioned that I might try. I told this person that I would try to kneel down to receive Holy Communion on the tongue and apparently that was doing too much.

I would normally receive Communion on my hand, but I noticed that when I received Communion from a certain church, there were particles left on my hand, and I had to lick it off my hand. It felt uncomfortable to me. Later on, I considered the possibility that I had missed seeing particles on my hand in the past. So, I resolved to receive Communion on the tongue.

This Sunday, I felt the minister gave me a weird look. I did not see anyone in the church receive Communion on the tongue. Perhaps, I imagined the weird look, but I felt triumphant that I went through with it.

On Monday though, I went to a different church and the priest picked up the Holy Communion and lifted the Communion above his head, as he said, “The Body of Christ”. I stumbled over my response before I received the Communion on my tongue. It made me feel weird because I don’t recall a priest lifting Communion this high before giving it to me (although now in the far future I can say it was benign). It is not uncommon in this church for some people receive Communion on the tongue on their knees annd for others to receive on the hand while standing.

You might wonder, “Why did you not kneel?”. Well, I did not have the comfort of a kneeler and perhaps, I wondered if I could be graceful about kneeling on the ground.

On Wednesday, I decided to give it a go again at this same church and it was a total disaster. The minister was shorter than me, so I bent slightly, and she dropped the Communion before it reached my tongue. The second time, she got it. I was in shock and my day felt even more disagreeable than it was at that moment. I could not say my prayers completely and I left the church distracted.

It has been weird for me so far. It should not even be. I grew up receiving Communion on the tongue in Nigeria and we would kneel at the altar rail, on the kneeler, which was in a semi-oval shape and separated the altar from the congregation. We had altar servers who walked with the priest, with a paten in hand to catch any accidental fall of the Communion when it is given to communicants downstairs (Upstairs, it was received on the tongue standing). I do not know if this is still the practice there because people started receiving on the hand when there was an outbreak of Ebola. I think people went back to receiving on the tongue after it was over, but I didn’t. When I went back in January, I received Communion on my tongue while standing, at a weekday mass. I think I might have been doing as I saw people do. A Sunday mass will be different there, with people using the kneeler.

Anyway, as I walked to the bus stop, I considered that perhaps I was doing something wrong with the way I received Communion, so I decided to google, “How to receive Communion on the tongue”. There were things I never considered on the video I watched.

Regardless, I felt like I was trying to do something good, but the worst happened. I considered strongly going back to receiving Communion on the hand but when I got called “Holy Holy”, it was a fuel to do it again but this time around kneeling down, because the act of kneeling to receive Communion on the tongue should not be considered excessively holy. It is right and just or in other words, fitting for our King, and I am not my standard of holiness. I also thought, “What if I am being called to do this?”.

Then, I remembered that as a kid in secondary school I was called “Holy Holy” once and left out of a conversation because they did not want to corrupt me. I hated it and denied being holy. Now, it feels like perhaps I might be on the right path in my life since I have been told this again. Although, I have to say, human standards can be faulty.

Today, I will be trying some of the suggestions I got from the video and also getting on my knees. I have even practiced doing this at home and at work. I am feeling embarrassed actually about the whole ordeal, but I need to get through it to get over it.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A song you could listen to.

Why is Mary “Our Mother”?

By Cynthia Aralu

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

Last year, I was scrolling through IG and I came across a post about Mary. I believe on the post Mary was referred to as “Our Mother”. A comment popped up on my screen as it usually does when reels play. Someone asked, “Why is Mary Our Mother?”, so I felt a burst of inspiration to write down why Mary is “Our Mother”. I posted in bits on my IG story, the first three reasons, and later on in the year, the fourth reason came to me.

I feel there is no time like the present to post this here, so here it is: Why is Mary “Our Mother”?

One way to look at this is to look at Christ. If we, who have been baptized, have been brought into The Body Of Christ, with Christ as our Head, then we have been adopted as children of Mary. There is no way to separate this, since Mary is the mother of God (Jesus) Luke 1:43, Whose Body we have become a part of; such that she is also our mom. 

Another way to look at this would be to look at Christ. As He hung on the cross, while in excruciating pain, He turned to His mother and the disciple whom He loved and told His mom, “Woman, behold, your son.” And to John, He said, “Behold, your mother.” Notice that in calling Mary “Woman”, Jesus referred to the “mother of all humanity”, and in entrusting John to her as her son, Jesus points even more so to her role as the new Eve, the mother of all “disciples Whom He loves”-those who have new life in Him. St. John is worthy of imitating in taking her into his home from that hour.

A third way to look at this would be to look at Jesus, promised to Abraham and prophesied through the lips of Abraham when he blessed Judah, his son, before He died. Abraham is said to be the Father of our Faith. His belief and obedience were counted to him as righteousness. Through him came the promised Messiah in David’s line. Even closer still, through Mary’s “Yes” and faith just like Abraham’s, we were given Jesus. Mary is someone who had recognition of this promise and line when she praised God in saying, “He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his posterity for ever.” (Luke 1:54-55). If we are to be counted as posterity of Abraham, which we are, as we have been grafted onto the olive tree by grace (Romans 11:17-24), then in the order of grace, Mary is our mother. 

The most obvious reason Mary is our mother is in Revelations. A woman gives birth to a son, “One Who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron”, Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ (Rev 12:5). The dragon tries to kill her but cannot because she is kept safe by God. In frustration, the dragon goes after her children “on those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus” (Rev 12:17). If you are one of those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus, then Mary is your mother.

I believe there is still even more in the bible that points to her as Our Mother, but this is all that my limited mind is able to share now.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

I have had this song on repeat lately.

Why We Pray

By Cynthia Aralu

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

As a little girl, I did not like praying. My mom noticed this and would say so to me. I felt evil for not liking to pray and for other reasons I could not reconcile in my mind; not because of anything she said to me. My mom may have her imperfections just as I do, but no one loves like my mom. She loves you where you are and prays for you to be better, all the while encouraging you to join her. I am not always that patient nor do I have her social skills; I’m still learning this. It was the thoughts that I had that condemned me.

I never once picked up the rosary to pray of my own accord in the past, unless instructed to or called to do so. I remember timing the rosary one time when we prayed together at home. I was surprised it took us 15 minutes to complete the rosary and the litany, because it always felt so long to me. Prayer at home consisted of the rosary, songs of praise and worship and then petitions. I preferred when we ended up only doing praise, worship and petitions because it felt shorter.

I did not go to the chapel at my secondary school either for daily mass, unless forced to do so, which hardly ever happened since I was alone. I was surprised when I found out my sister prayed the rosary alone. To me, goodness came so easily to her, that she has helped people come to the Catholic Faith through only living out her life and sharing testimony. My brothers recited the mass in Latin easily, and I’m talking about on the car ride home or at home, not only in church, and because I can be a bit competitive, I learnt to say the “Our Father” in Latin and tried to master the creed and the gloria. With time, I could say long stretches, almost becoming excellent at singing the creed and the gloria in Latin at every First Sunday mass of the month at St. Dominic Catholic Church, Yaba. If it weren’t for my siblings around me, I would never have risen to even the small level that I did while at home in Nigeria.

I walked away from my faith during the early-second quarter of 2020. I sinned gravely and then started to question my faith. I found holes in it and started to doubt the existence of God. The moment I thought God did not exist, it felt to me as though a film had come down my eyes and I could see things clearly. That is the only way I can explain it, but I was blinder than a bat. Towards the end of 2020, I started getting answers when I wasn’t looking for it, but my heart was so sluggish to repent. Some sense was slapped back into me when I did a devotional with my sister as she suggested. We had studied a verse in the New Testament, which referred to another verse in the Old Testament. I was curious about what it meant so I read Isaiah 45 (I think this was the verse but it could have been different), and I realized the error in my thinking, and I repented internally to the extent that I could back then.

I believed in God but I did not believe in the Catholic Church. I had seen grave sin as a kid, that and other reasons, and I judged instead of loved. I did not attend other denominations either. As a child, I had concluded from what I’d seen that they followed their pastors and not Jesus, so, there was never a sway to be a member, even though I attended a vigil service alone and had felt the presence of God at a Pentecostal church. I do not recall the name of the church. Perhaps, it was the Redeem Christian Church of God. I don’t know any other like that. I just wanted to worship God at a cross-over service so, this visit had been very much without a thought.

Towards the end of 2022, I started watching a lot of videos. I became convicted of the authority of the Catholic Church handed down from Jesus and I gained a deeper consciousness of the Holy Eucharist as the Body of Christ. I felt immense gratitude to be able to attend mass and receive communion. I was also applying for jobs back then and kept getting rejections even after interviewing. My sister relayed to me her past experience of getting a job rejection on her way home, and how she prayed the rosary and it helped her get past it. She encouraged me to do the same. I recalled as well a time in the past when I had difficulty finding a job in London and I went to the place of prayer to Our Lady at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church, New Malden. I prayed for her help and wept some more in the church pews to God. I got a job after. Bolstered with confidence from my memory and my sister’s testimony, I began praying the rosary. I realized that it wasn’t hard to pray so I prayed it when I felt really sad and later on prayed it daily. Afterwards, I got the idea to write it down and maybe publish it.

While I was in the US for Christmas/New Years’, I was really troubled about the job search, so I had gone to sleep. Just as I was waking up, I saw a woman standing at a doorway, shining with so much brilliance, with golden light around what I think was the frame of a doorway. She was so beautiful, and I think she was smiling at me with arms stretched out. I woke up and wondered, “Who is that?”. I told my sister who had walked into the room what I had seen. I kept saying how the woman was so beautiful. Although I cannot even draw her or describe her features because my memory was already fading after seeing her, one thing that stuck with me was that her beauty was astounding. If I had not written it down, I wonder what I would be able to remember now. Anyway, I had an inkling that I might have seen the Blessed Virgin, but I could not voice this to my sister. Soon after that I got a call for a Job interview in Canada. I cut my trip short and went back to Canada, and I got the job in a matter of a little over a week after the interview.

Later on when I heard people describe Mary from her apparitions or visits, one thing they all said was how she was so beautiful and I remembered what I’d seen.

I have also smelt a nice-smelling fragrance while praying the rosary. I thought I was imagining it until I saw a video of someone describing the same. I also wondered if it could be an air freshener. I took my thought to my mom, and she told me she has experienced the same, so I thought that maybe it was real and maybe we experienced the same thing. I also thought if it was the air freshener, it would have been a consistent smell in prayer and outside of prayer but of course, I pray that I experience it again to give confirmation to my experience.

I started the 33 day preparation of consecration to Jesus through Mary in March, 2023. An intention we were asked to make to the Holy Spirit for a certain duration of the 33 days was to increase our trust in Mary. I had a dream during that time. I lay on a bed and felt a hand under me. I knelt up on the bed in panic. I was holding a rosary, so I placed it over the edge of the bed and a hand reached out from under the bed and grabbed on to the rosary, dragging it with me. My intention had been to scare it away with the rosary I was holding and I was shocked it did not work. So, I said “Mother, please burn this evil away.” or something to that effect. The instant I uttered that, the evil was gone. The moment I woke up, I was filled with a deeper trust for Mary beyond the rosary beads. This is not to say that a blessed rosary will not be effective in an exorcism. I needed to trust her and that is what happened.

Prayer comes easily to me now because I pray from a place of love and it has since the end of 2022. I do not stop to think about the time it takes to complete prayer anymore or read the bible or even if saying one word is just as efficient as saying plenty words. I had those arguments with my mom in the past. I think now that it wasn’t because I was evil that I did not like prayer, but because I did not love with a big heart. Because whether or not I said one word, I never sat in silence in His presence waiting for God to speak to me, while those who said plenty did not care about spending a long time in the presence of God, even if their prayer was full of words.

My mom has since told me the time in her life where she had the most encounter with God and received prophetic messages from God was when she attended daily mass, received communion and prayed the rosary. Back then, she did not do the amount of prayer she does now. I have also learnt that her mom, my grandmother, spoke in tongues, which I found surprising since the perception I got growing up from other Catholics is that it is not something believed in the Catholic Church, but my grandmother was very Catholic and a member of the Charismatic renewal. I think my grandmother must have been praying for me too in heaven.

So, even if more prayers are added to an already established prayer, and I happen to be present with the people praying, I will join in in joy. If they sing it, I will sing along with joy. This is because I know the prayer must have been put together by people with deep devotion and love, and prayer really should be about love and not a to-do-list or a comparison of what is more efficient over the other. If the heart is there and it pleases God, i.e., not against God’s commandments, that is most important.

If you would like to learn how to pray the rosary as taught by mom and her parents, see link here: How to pray the rosary

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A song you can listen to!

Seeing Without Perceiving

By Cynthia Aralu

Hello everyone! Pray the Rosary.

These days, my Instagram feed is mostly about Bible verses or the things of Christ. Even though I cannot dispute it is a good thing to have my feed full of the things of God, I fear I have lost a lot of my initial motivation; the desire to only see the things of God. Without intending to, I have tamed the algorithm of my feed by liking bible verses, prayers and the things of God, because I do indeed like them. They are good after all. As a result of this, even though I engage in scrolling, it cannot be mindless but it is somewhat driven by a distractedness. Yesterday night, just before bed, I engaged in this same distracted scrolling, and I would like each reel as I scrolled. I stumbled across verses about the significance of Christ’s suffering and death and a verse caused me to pause. It could be that the verse from Isaiah which I had intently listened to in church hours earlier, had helped to bring it all together in my mind as I scrolled, such that I reached enlightenment on reading the verse from St. Peter which said that “He himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed”

I could not help but wonder, “Could it be that our sins were literally his wounds?”

For some reason, I had been trying so hard to understand it beyond what was stated when it was as plain as day. Am I the last in coming to know this?

There is no humour in the suffering and death of Jesus. There is so much gravity to sin that I have missed for most of my life. Was it purposeful because I could not bear it?

It is as plain as Isaiah said, that “As many were astonished at him his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the sons of men—so shall he startle many nations; kings shall shut their mouths because of him; for that which has not been told them they shall see, and that which they have not heard they shall understand”.

That is just how gnarly sin is, and rightly so, we all should be astonished by sin and its effect. Every wound Jesus took on, that which was visible and invisible to the human eyes, I inflicted and yet He chose it willingly so that I may have life through His suffering. It is the redemptive power of suffering when it is offered up to God, united to Jesus, of which I now have a share in, and only quite recently did I grasp this, without even fully realizing what I was doing, until I wrote about it.

I woke up this morning and I pondered even more about all of this which I have mentioned. I remembered the passage from scripture that said, “they will see without perceiving, hear but without understanding.”. I could not help but wonder, “What else have I missed?”. I was so full of gratitude to God, so I thanked Jesus for His offering of Himself and I thanked God the Father and the Holy Spirit for enlightening me.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A lovely song to listen to!

The Accused

By Cynthia Aralu

Out of the depths I cry to Thee, O Lord!
Lord, hear my voice!
Let Thy ears be attentive
to the voice of my supplications!

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in His word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.

O Israel, hope in the Lord!
For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
and with Him is plenteous redemption.

Psalm 130: 1, 5-7

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

Have you ever been in a situation where a person who had given you some information which you shared to someone else, was now lying to that someone else about the content of the information they had given to you? Then, you were made to look like a liar and also incompetent, because the person who they were lying to has known them longer or better, and because of human nature, was more inclined to take their side. Have you ever been in the position to disprove this person with a screenshot and a well-formed argument?

This happened to me quite recently; actually the interval between Monday and Tuesday.

When the person who had been lied to looked at me and presented to me the information he had received from the lady, I mentioned that I was pretty sure that I had been told something different by the lady and he had given me a weird look, so, I had followed up with, “It is probably just a misunderstanding.” to which he nodded in agreement.

To be honest, I have been in a similar situation multiple times in the past before, when I lived in London. It is such a terrible position to be in. I recall the first time it happened. I was thrown under the bus by a coordinator for a mistake he made. I was at the virtual meeting, the first of that kind for me and He’d lied. I had frozen then and my heart raced uncontrollably. I did not know how to protect myself. I am glad that I did not do so at that meeting. It would have been a useless argument, and I would have been labelled “troublesome”. He was a coordinator, and I was only an assistant. When I left that meeting, my mind had run in all directions, and then settled on an idea to prove that there was no way I could have possibly known about the existence of the task, to even have been aware to perform it. I got indisputable proof that I had not been trained on the SOP and so, I could not have been aware of it, let alone, done it.

That was God’s saving grace. I emailed this proof to the second-in-charge of the unit and explained my side of things. My point was acknowledged and accommodated, but I always felt weird to work there after that, and around that coordinator. I didn’t have the option to leave. If I had been back in Nigeria, I would not have stayed. I became so guarded after that incident. A similar situation repeated itself but this time around, I spoke up for myself with email receipts, and the other person got angry. It felt so messy to me, and I was uncomfortable. To be fair, God vindicated me so swiftly from these situations and others, but it all felt turbulent to me, and it made me distrustful; this and other things in life.

So, when this similar situation repeated itself this Monday, I did not want to cause any friction, so I had automatically said, “It is probably just a misunderstanding.” It was her word against mine and I started to wonder if I had heard her wrong on the call that day. After work, as I walked to the bus stop, I felt tired and sad, and I told myself not to cry. For me, it went beyond the lie. She had been so rude to me on the call while I tried to stay professional and levelheaded. It felt as though this situation kept repeating itself in my life, but I also recognized, as I stood at the bus stop waiting for a bus, that the day before, I had knelt before the Blessed Sacrament, and told Jesus that I really want to know how He felt when He suffered during His passion. My mind knows that it must have been great suffering, but in truth, I feel I am lacking the empathy to fully grasp the depth of His suffering. I thought the best way to cure my lack would be to feel as He felt.

“Not a lot of people experience this.” I told myself, coming close to resenting it.

“It is a privilege to go through this.” I recognized, when I considered the rarity of my experiences, still feeling tired and sad.

A word from scripture stood at the forefront of my mind, “He was a man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief.”

So, I wondered, “Did Jesus cry? Did He hurt every time he was accused or rejected or mistreated?”

My emotions were heavy so I offered them up to God.

When I got home, I pulled out my laptop. It occurred to me to check my laptop for a Teams conversation from a different day when the lady seemed to be suggesting the same thing I had surmised from her call that day. I found it, took a screenshot of it and saved it. Then, I started to formulate an argument in my mind that I was going to present the next day.

I woke up Tuesday morning and I prayed to God to vindicate me. On my way to work, I recognized that I wanted to do things my own way because I did not want to ask God what I should do, and I was trying to hide from this knowledge. But you really cannot hide from God. So, I asked God what I should do. I felt the heaviness lift off my chest. I decided to listen to an episode from Bible in a Year (BIY) because I wanted to hear from God. Psalm 130 was read in this episode. It spoke to me, and I knew what to do. I decided I was going to be still and wait on God. I laughed when I realized that I did not even want to fight for myself. Whatever fight I had been mustering was only a symptom of conditioning. Truth is, I want to be fought for by God Who loves me so much. I want to bask in the sweetness of His love, and I want to laugh and rejoice in the recognition that I am loved so.

My Spotify was on shuffle, so it suggested another episode from BIY a while later. This episode had Psalm 120, which thoroughly fit my situation; a prayer for deliverance from slanderers. I knew God’s hand was in it.

His vindication may not even come through this situation. It might be through something else that leads to her conversion. I am fine with it. I know that He is protecting and leading me. What can mere mortals do to me?

Later on, that day, I heard a bible passage differently for the first time. “Come to Me all you who are labor and heavy-laden and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me. For I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will have rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”. In the past, I had focused on the part where Jesus said to cast my burdens on Him. Yesterday, I was able to focus more on the part where He said to learn from Him “to be gentle and lowly in heart”.

I can’t say I fully understand what it means to be “gentle and lowly in heart” but I do know that I crave peace more than anything and yet, I seem to want to fight first.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A lovely song! Have a listen!

My Helper

By Cynthia Aralu

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From whence does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved,
    He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep. 

The Lord is your keeper;
    the Lord is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not smite you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

Psalm 121:1-6

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

For most of the time I have written, which is a good chunk of my life, whenever I set out to write, I have allowed my emotions to drive me. Sometimes, I had written after a chance inspiration by a body of work which I found to be inspiring and other times, I wrote from my place of interacting with the things and the people in my life. I don’t think I have really included God in my writing process, at least not until recently, when I began writing about God; then I started praying before writing. I did this because I got nervous about writing the wrong things about God or leading people astray.

I did some introspection after my poem, “Hey Mom” was refined by my younger brother. The experience left me feeling a bit shaken for some days. I realized on looking back on the poem I wrote about “Expected Endings”; I had been purely driven and guided by churning emotions. I believe most of what I have considered “some of my best works” have usually been produced this way. Even as I put the arrangement together for “Expected Endings” up on my blog, I did not pray since I was not directly mentioning God on the post. I seemed to have separated my work from God in doing this. As if to say, “Now, I get to post something of mine since I have posted everything else I wanted to post about God.” Actually, my thought process was exactly this.

Before or while writing the poem “Hey Mom”, I had said a prayer to God for His help to write well. I felt nothing as I wrote but I tried to refine the poem as best as I could on my journey home from the church. I posted the poem on my blog late at night but sent off a copy separately to my younger brother for his feedback. I suppose I wasn’t expecting anything major from him, but when I woke I up and picked up my phone, I saw his replies. We had a back and forth on my way to work, as I did not fully grasp what he was getting at. Understanding of his point of his view hit me, from seeing what his refinements were, just as my bus halted at the bus stop. I teared up in reaction to this assent of my mind to his creative genius, as I alighted from the bus; a reaction stemming entirely from a strong wave of inadequacy which washed over me and nothing more.

Logical or not, that feeling of inadequacy which had labelled me a horrible writer might have been, I cannot say. I can say however, that by the time I arrived at my office, I pondered on the fact that I had prayed to God for His help to write a good poem, but His help had come through my brother. I think I was rattled majorly because His help did not come in the form I had expected it. I literally want God to show up in dazzling ways through me, but He does not want me to be alone, so, He shows me the bar of my limitations, urging me to lean on the strength he has supplied to others, to surpass my limits.

So, I prayed to Him to send me a helper for a petition I have been making for a while now. 

This experience made me realize three things: (1) God does not want me to be alone, (2) God will use the people or whatever it is He has sent into my life to help me whether or not they realize it or even want to help me and (3) I do not want to keep my writing separate from God.

I will figure this writing thing out with God because my help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A lovely song to listen to!

Hey Mom

By Cynthia Aralu

Hi everyone! Pray the Rosary.

I was in church before the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe and I talked to her like I usually do whenever I stop by. I got the thought to write down some of the things I said to her, as best as I can remember, and it reads like a poem. Here it is:

Hey Mom

Hey mom,

Isn’t it crazy,

How we are all brothers and sisters, 

All gathered under one roof to worship God,

But we are more strangers over being family?

We are all God’s children,

having One Father,

Yet hardly anyone’s gaze envelopes you with warmth,

Hardly anyone’s smile catches you in theirs. 

But I am just the same, aren’t I?

It is so instinctual;

This awkwardness. 

…Mom, did you catch that?

That soft swivel of my head to avoid any misunderstanding,

That my gaze was vastly cool,

That it gave the sense that this brief meeting of eyes,

was nothing more than a coincidence,

nothing more than a watchfulness,

the result of her sudden appearance in my eye’s direction.

I suppose I could have smiled at her,

But I didn’t want her to think me weird.

Hey mom,

How is it that we are more strangers than family?

I had to re-write this poem because of the feedback I got from my younger brother. I took it because ultimately, I want this to read better. But I must say, I teared up when I saw his suggestions. I felt like a horrible writer who could not think of “his refinements”, and I wondered if I could really call this poem mine. Well, it is a learning process, and I will be better next time. Besides, I do not mind sharing this poem with him. I always say he is the better writer.

Thank you for reading today’s post. Remember to like this post and share it with your friends if you enjoyed it. Follow me on my blog, Katmira’s blog or my podcast, Amara’s Musings, to receive notifications whenever I have a new post. You can also subscribe below to get an email notification whenever a new post is out. This is particularly helpful if you don’t have a WordPress account.

Pray the Rosary. Let it be, until we meet again or “Ka ọ dị” as it is said in Igbo.

A lovely song. Have a listen!