27th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Faithful Stewards

This Sunday’s readings really made me stop and think about how easily we can forget that we are stewards, not owners, of the lives we have been given. So much of what we have can sometimes feel like it belongs entirely to us. Our homes, our money, our careers, our possessions, our time, our abilities and even the people we love. We work hard for these things, so naturally we feel that we have earned them. Yet the readings remind us that ultimately, everything we have is something God has entrusted to us.

The image of the vineyard in both the first reading from Isaiah and the Gospel is a beautiful reminder of this. God carefully plants the vineyard, tends to it, protects it and gives it everything it needs to grow. In return, He expects it to bear good fruit. But instead of finding good fruit, He finds injustice, violence and suffering. In the Gospel, the tenants become so possessive of the vineyard that they forget it was never theirs to begin with. They reject the servants sent by the owner and eventually even kill his beloved son.

That really made me reflect on how we sometimes behave in our own lives. We can become so focused on what we have achieved that we forget where our blessings came from. We can become proud of our success, our abilities or the things we have accumulated, and slowly begin to believe that everything is because of us. But the truth is that none of us gets through life completely on our own.

There have been people who believed in us when we doubted ourselves. There have been people who helped us when we needed help, encouraged us when we were struggling and stood beside us during difficult seasons. There have also been opportunities that came our way that we could never have planned for ourselves. And behind all of it is God, quietly giving us the strength, grace and opportunities to keep going.

That is why I find the idea of being a steward so meaningful. Being a steward means understanding that what has been placed in our hands has also been given a purpose. God gives us our gifts and abilities so that we can use them. He gives us people to love so that we can care for them. He gives us time so that we can use it wisely. He gives us opportunities so that we can make something good out of them.

Perhaps the question is not simply, “What do I have?” Perhaps the more important question is, “What am I doing with what God has given me?”

As I get older, I find myself thinking about this more. Life has taught me that we can spend so much time chasing the next thing that we forget to appreciate what is already in front of us. We worry about earning more, achieving more and becoming more successful, while sometimes overlooking the people and blessings God has already placed in our lives.

At the end of the day, none of us can take our possessions, achievements or wealth with us. One day, we will leave all of it behind. What remains is the kind of life we lived and the impact we had on the people around us.

Did we love enough?

Did we help when we could?

Did we forgive?

Did we make someone's difficult day a little easier?

Did we care for the people God entrusted to us?

Did we use our blessings to bless others?

These are the things I believe truly matter.

Sometimes we think bearing good fruit means doing something big or extraordinary. But perhaps it is much simpler than that. Good fruit can be found in the little things we do every day. It can be caring for our parents, being there for our children, supporting a friend, helping someone who is struggling, doing our work honestly or simply choosing kindness when we have every reason to be angry.

It can also mean having the courage to forgive, the humility to admit when we are wrong and the generosity to give without expecting anything in return. Sometimes the smallest acts of love can make the biggest difference in someone's life.

The readings also remind me that God is patient with us. He gives us opportunities to change, to learn and to grow. None of us lives a perfect life. We make mistakes. We make wrong decisions. We sometimes hurt people unintentionally. There are also moments when we look back and wish we had handled things differently.

But I have learned that we cannot change the past. What we can do is learn from it and choose to do better moving forward. Every new day is another opportunity to bear better fruit.

For me, being a faithful steward does not mean having everything figured out. It means doing the best I can with what I have been given. It means being grateful for the blessings while also remembering that they come with responsibility.

My family, my work, my relationships, my experiences, my strengths and even the difficult seasons that have shaped me are all part of the vineyard God has entrusted to me. I may not always understand why certain things happen. I may not always know exactly where the road ahead is leading. But I can choose how I respond to what God places in my hands.

And I want to bear good fruit.

Not necessarily fruit that the world will notice or applaud, but fruit that God will recognize. I want my life to reflect love, gratitude, kindness, generosity and faith. I want the people around me to know that they are cared for. I want to use whatever abilities and opportunities I have to make a difference, even if that difference seems small.

Because perhaps that is what God is asking of all of us.

We are not the owners of this vineyard. We are simply the people entrusted to care for it for a while. Our time here is temporary, but what we do with that time matters.

This Sunday, I am reminded to be grateful for what I have rather than constantly focusing on what I don't have. I am reminded to stop taking my blessings for granted and to be more intentional about how I use them. Most importantly, I am reminded that a meaningful life is not measured by how much we accumulate, but by how much love we give.

Lord, help me never to forget that everything I have is a gift from You. Give me the wisdom to use my blessings well, the humility to remember that they are entrusted to me and the generosity to share them with others.

Help me to bear good fruit through the way I love, the way I work, the way I care and the way I live.

And when my time in this vineyard is over, may I be able to look back with a grateful heart and know that I did my best with everything You entrusted to me.

Amen. 

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Reflection: Do I recognize that all 1 have belongs first to God?

Yes, I do. Everything I have is ultimately a gift from God, and I am reminded that I am only a steward of these blessings.

My family, my work, my abilities, my opportunities and everything I have worked hard for would not be possible without God's grace and guidance. I may work hard to build and provide for my family, but I know that God is the one who gives me the strength and opportunities to do so.

This reminds me to be grateful and not take anything for granted. Whatever God has placed in my hands, I have a responsibility to use it wisely, care for it and, where I can, use my blessings to help and bless others.

I may not always understand God's plans, but I trust that everything I have is His before it is mine. My role is simply to be a faithful steward and make the best of what He has entrusted to me. 

Movie Recommendation: The Wrong Nanny (2017)

 

I have to admit, The Wrong Nanny was not quite what I expected it to be.

When I first started watching it, I thought I was settling in for one of those typical Lifetime thrillers. You know the kind. There is a seemingly perfect family, someone new comes into their lives, something feels slightly off, and before you know it, everything starts falling apart.

And honestly, I enjoy those movies. I like the suspense, the secrets, the unexpected twists and those moments when you find yourself sitting there thinking, “Why on earth would you do that?”

But this one got to me in a completely different way.

The story centres around Stella Armstrong, a mother of twins who is trying to keep everything together while also organizing a fundraiser in memory of her mother. Like so many mothers, she has a lot on her plate and needs some extra help with the children. That is where Blake comes in.

At first, Blake seems like the perfect nanny.

She is sweet, helpful and caring. There is nothing about her that immediately makes you think she is someone Stella should be worried about. But, of course, this is a Lifetime movie, so we know there is more going on than meets the eye.

And then comes the revelation.

Blake is actually Stella's daughter.

The daughter Stella gave up for adoption many years earlier.

That was the moment when the movie really changed for me.

Suddenly, this was no longer just a story about a nanny who was hiding something. It became a story about a mother and daughter who had been separated for years, a past that had never really been resolved and a young woman carrying an enormous amount of hurt.

But Blake has not come back looking for a loving reunion.

She has come back for revenge.

And this is where I found myself feeling incredibly conflicted.

I was frightened by Blake and by what she was capable of doing, but at the same time, I felt sorry for her. You could see the pain behind her anger. You could feel that this was someone who had spent years wondering about the mother who had given her away and trying to make sense of her own life.

That is what I found so interesting about Freya Tingley's performance as Blake.

She did not make Blake feel like a simple villain. There were moments when I could see the hurt, the loneliness and the longing underneath everything she was doing. You could almost understand why she was angry, even though some of the things she did were completely wrong.

And that made me uncomfortable in a good way.

I found myself thinking, “I understand why you are hurting, but I really wish you had chosen a different way to deal with it.”

There were moments when I felt heartbroken for her and moments when I was sitting there wondering what she was going to do next. That emotional tug of war made the movie much more interesting for me.

What really stayed with me was the subject of abandonment.

There is something incredibly painful about growing up wondering where you came from, who your parents are and why they made the choices they did. We do not always know what someone has carried quietly for years. Sometimes the wounds that are invisible can be the deepest ones.

The movie also made me think about motherhood and the decisions we make in life.

Stella had made a decision many years earlier to give her daughter up for adoption. Whatever her reasons were at the time, she eventually had to face the consequences of that decision years later. Life had moved on. She had a family of her own and twins who depended on her. But the past had not disappeared.

It had simply been waiting.

And sometimes, I think, that is how life works.

We can put something behind us and convince ourselves that we have moved on, but that does not necessarily mean the emotions connected to it have disappeared. Unresolved hurt has a way of resurfacing when we least expect it.

Of course, The Wrong Nanny is still a Lifetime thriller, so there are definitely moments where you have to suspend reality a little. Some scenes are dramatic, some situations are exaggerated and there are definitely moments when I found myself talking back to the television!

But that is part of what makes these movies entertaining.

What surprised me was how much this particular story made me think after the movie was over.

It made me think about family and how complicated family relationships can be. It made me think about the choices we make and how those choices can affect other people, sometimes many years later. Most of all, it made me think about how much damage can come from carrying anger and resentment without ever finding a way to heal from them.

I also found myself thinking about forgiveness.

Not because everything that happened in the movie could simply be forgiven or forgotten. Some things have consequences. But because forgiveness can sometimes be more about freeing yourself from the pain you have been carrying than pretending that the hurt never happened.

Blake wanted answers. She wanted acknowledgement. She wanted to matter to the mother she felt had abandoned her.

Sadly, instead of finding a healthy way to deal with all those emotions, her pain became anger, and her anger became revenge.

And that, to me, was the saddest part of the story.

Underneath all the suspense and drama, I think The Wrong Nanny is really a story about broken relationships and the desire to belong.

It reminded me that people can look perfectly fine on the outside while carrying years of hurt on the inside. It also reminded me that our past can shape us, but it does not have to control what we become.

Would I recommend this movie?

Yes, I would.

If you enjoy Lifetime movies, suspense, family secrets and stories with a psychological and emotional element, I think this is one worth adding to your movie list.

Just do not expect it to be simply another story about a troublesome nanny.

The Wrong Nanny was really about a mother, a daughter, a past that was never properly dealt with and what can happen when old wounds are allowed to grow.

It was suspenseful, dramatic and, at times, a little over the top, but it also had an emotional side that I was not expecting.

And perhaps that is why it stayed with me.

Sometimes a movie gives you a few hours of entertainment and then you forget about it.

Other times, a movie makes you think about life, family, choices and the things people carry silently.

The Wrong Nanny was definitely the second kind for me.

And yes, I would watch it again.

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Living Out Our Faith

This Sunday’s readings remind me that faith is not simply about what we say. Faith is about what we choose, how we respond to God, and ultimately, how we live our lives.

The first reading from Ezekiel speaks very clearly about personal responsibility. God tells us that when an upright person turns away from what is right and chooses sin, that person is responsible for the choices made. But the reading also gives us hope. When a sinner turns away from sin and chooses to live according to God’s ways, that person will live. To me, this is a beautiful reminder that our past does not have to define our future.

God gives us free will. He does not force us to choose Him. He does not force us to love, to forgive, to serve or to do what is right. He allows us to make our own choices, even when those choices take us away from Him. Yet when we recognize that we have gone in the wrong direction and turn back to Him, He does not turn us away. He welcomes us with mercy and gives us the grace and strength to begin again.

That part of the reading speaks deeply to me because I know what it is like to have been away from God and then find my way back.

There was a time in my life when I had walked away from the Church. I questioned my faith, became distant from God and spent years living without making Him a central part of my life. But God never stopped calling me back. When I eventually returned to the Church and went to confession, it felt like coming home.

Looking back, I realize that God was never the one who walked away from me. I was the one who had turned away. Yet when I finally turned back, He was there.

That is the mercy of God.

It also reminds me that returning to God is not a one time decision. Every day, we are given opportunities to choose Him again. We can choose patience instead of anger. Forgiveness instead of resentment. Kindness instead of judgement. Service instead of selfishness. Faith instead of fear.

The Gospel takes this message even further through the parable of the two sons.

The father asks both sons to go and work in the vineyard. The first son initially says no, but later changes his mind and goes. The second son says yes, but does not go.

Jesus then asks, “Which of the two did the father’s will?”

The answer is not the son who simply said the right thing. It is the son who eventually acted.

That question makes me reflect on how easy it can be for us as Christians to say the right things. We can say that we love God. We can say that we trust Him. We can say that we want to serve Him. We can say that we want to help others and live according to the Gospel.

But what happens after we say those words?

Do our actions reflect them?

This is where the Gospel becomes very personal for me.

Since returning to my faith, I have come to understand that being Catholic is not just about attending Mass every Sunday. Mass is incredibly important to me, but what happens after we leave the Church matters too. The Gospel should follow us home. It should follow us into our families, our workplaces, our friendships and our everyday encounters with people.

It is easy to say we have faith when everything is going well. It is much harder to live that faith when we are hurt, disappointed, misunderstood or afraid.

I have had moments in my own life when I have had to learn to trust God even when I did not understand what He was doing. Through loss, disappointment and difficult seasons, I have slowly learned that I do not always need to understand God’s plan in order to trust Him.

Living out our faith means making a conscious choice to keep turning towards God, even when life does not go according to our plans.

It also means recognizing that we will sometimes be like the first son.

There will be times when God asks something of us and our first response may be no. We may feel tired. We may feel afraid. We may not feel ready. We may question whether we are capable. We may even resist what God is asking of us.

But the first son teaches us that changing our minds and responding later still matters.

That gives me hope because God does not expect perfection from us. He asks for a willing heart.

My experience with Landings has also helped me see this more clearly. Landings is about creating a space where people can reconnect with God, with the Church and with themselves. Many people who return to the Church may have complicated stories. Some may have been away for years. Some may have questions. Some may feel that they no longer belong.

But perhaps their story is not finished.

Perhaps they are simply at the point where they are ready to turn around and say yes to God again.

The first reading reminds us that God sees that turning back. He sees the heart that chooses to return. The Gospel reminds us that what matters is not simply what we say, but what we eventually do.

This is why I believe living out our faith also means being present for others.

Sometimes living the Gospel is not about doing something extraordinary. It can be as simple as checking in on someone who is struggling, caring for our parents, being patient with our children, forgiving someone who has hurt us, welcoming someone who feels left out or offering our time when we would rather be doing something else.

These ordinary acts can become extraordinary when they are done with love.

The vineyard in today’s Gospel can be seen as the world God has placed us in. Each of us has been given an invitation to work in it. We may respond immediately. We may hesitate. We may even say no at first.

But the invitation remains.

And perhaps the question Jesus asks us today is not simply, “What have you said?”

Perhaps it is, “What have you done with what you said?”

Our faith becomes real when it moves from our lips to our lives.

As I reflect on these readings, I am reminded that God gives each of us the freedom to choose, but He also gives us the grace to change. We are not defined only by the times we have failed. We are also defined by the moments when we choose to get back up, turn towards God and try again.

I pray for the grace to be less concerned about saying the right things and more willing to live them.

May my yes to God be more than words.

May it be seen in how I love, how I forgive, how I serve, how I care for others and how I respond when God calls me to step outside my comfort zone.

And when I get it wrong, may I have the humility to turn back.

Because ultimately, living out our faith is not about being perfect.

It is about continuing to choose God, one day at a time.

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Reflection: What is one concrete step that I can take today to do God's will?

A concrete step I can take today is to put my faith into action through one simple act of love and service. It could be spending intentional time with my parents, reaching out to someone who may need encouragement, or choosing patience and forgiveness in a situation where I would normally react differently. For me, doing God’s will is not always about doing something big. Sometimes it is simply recognising the people and opportunities God places in front of me and responding with love. Today, I want my “yes” to God to be more than words. I want someone to experience God’s love through something I do.

Movie Recommendation: The Baby My Husband Lied About (2025)

 

I just watched The Baby My Husband Lied About (2025), and honestly, what a rollercoaster! As someone who enjoys a good Lifetime thriller, I knew I was probably in for plenty of drama, secrets and unexpected twists, but this movie still managed to surprise me. It had me questioning almost everyone, wondering what was really going on and, more than once, sitting there thinking, “Wait… WHAT?!”

The story follows Jen, played by Yoshié Bancroft, a woman who is excited about finally becoming a mother through IVF. For someone who has dreamed of starting a family, the happiness and anticipation surrounding the pregnancy feel very real. You can feel Jen's excitement and emotional investment in becoming a mum, which makes everything that happens afterwards even more unsettling.

Her joy quickly turns into confusion, suspicion and fear when she discovers that her sperm donor has been murdered. And then comes the really uncomfortable question. Could her own husband, Spencer, played by Clayton James, somehow be connected to it?

That is where the movie really grabbed my attention.

I have always found stories involving relationships, trust and betrayal fascinating because they make you think about how well we actually know the people closest to us. We can spend years with someone, share a home, build a family and believe we know everything about them, only to discover that there may be parts of their life they have kept hidden.

And this movie takes that idea and runs with it.

Jen is suddenly faced with questions she never expected to ask. Who can she trust? Why are certain things being kept from her? What does her husband really know? And how far back do these secrets go?

The IVF element also adds another emotional layer to the story. Becoming a parent through IVF can already involve so many emotions, from hope and excitement to anxiety and uncertainty. The movie takes that very personal journey and places it right in the middle of a mystery involving deception, murder and family secrets. It certainly makes the stakes feel much higher.

Yoshié Bancroft did a great job portraying Jen's vulnerability. I could feel her confusion as she tried to make sense of everything happening around her. One moment she is excited about becoming a mother, and the next she is questioning the people she should be able to trust the most. That emotional transformation kept me invested in her story.

Clayton James also brings the right amount of mystery to Spencer. There are moments when you think you have figured him out, only for the story to throw another question at you. Is he hiding something? Is there more to the situation than Jen knows? Or are we simply being led down the wrong path?

That is what kept me watching.

Now, let's be honest. This is a Lifetime thriller, so subtle storytelling is probably not what you are going to get. There are melodramatic moments, dramatic reactions, family secrets, suspicious behaviour and twists that sometimes make you want to shout at the screen.

But honestly, that is part of the fun!

I actually love movies that make me talk back to the television. Give me a good mystery where I can sit there trying to figure out who is lying, who is telling the truth and what on earth is going to happen next. I found myself doing exactly that while watching this one.

There were definitely moments where I thought I knew where the story was going, only to have another twist thrown at me. Some of the developments are certainly dramatic, but they kept the story moving and gave me enough curiosity to want to see how everything would eventually unravel.

The pacing also worked for me. I never felt like I was completely losing interest because there was always another question hanging in the air. Just when you think you might have the answers, something else comes along to make you question your theory.

Is it a perfect thriller? No.

Is every part of the story completely believable? Probably not.

But if I wanted complete realism, I probably would not be watching a Lifetime thriller in the first place! Sometimes I want to sit back, switch off from reality and enjoy a movie that gives me drama, suspense, secrets and enough twists to keep me entertained.

And The Baby My Husband Lied About certainly did that.

What I particularly enjoyed was the underlying theme of trust. Relationships are built on the belief that the person beside you is being honest with you. But what happens when that trust begins to crack? What happens when you start discovering things that make you question everything you thought you knew?

That is where this movie becomes more than just a murder mystery for me.

It made me think about how easily secrets can change the way we see someone. Once doubt enters a relationship, even the smallest thing can suddenly seem suspicious. You start looking back at conversations, situations and moments differently because you are wondering whether there was something you missed.

And that is probably the biggest question I took away from this movie.

How well do we really know the people closest to us?

If you enjoy Lifetime movies, domestic thrillers, complicated relationships and stories filled with betrayal, secrets and unexpected twists, I think this one is worth adding to your watchlist.

Just do not expect a quiet, subtle movie where everything unfolds gently.

This one comes with drama, suspicion, emotional chaos and plenty of moments that will probably have you saying, “What?!”

For me, that is exactly what made it entertaining.

My verdict: If you enjoy a good Lifetime thriller that keeps you guessing and gives you plenty of family drama along the way, give The Baby My Husband Lied About a watch. It may not be the most subtle thriller out there, but it definitely kept me entertained and, more importantly, it kept me watching until the very end.

And after watching it, I am reminded of one thing.

Sometimes the people we think we know the best can still have the biggest secrets.

What Am I Not Doing Because of Fear?

There are questions that are easy to answer because we already know the answer. Then there are questions that make us stop, sit quietly and really look at ourselves. “What am I not doing because of fear?” is one of those questions for me. It is not a question I can answer with a simple list because, if I am completely honest with myself, fear has influenced more of my decisions than I would sometimes like to admit.

I have always thought of myself as someone who is courageous. I have taken risks, started over, changed direction, tried new things and walked into situations where I did not know exactly what was going to happen. I have travelled, built businesses, written books, created opportunities for myself and stepped into new chapters of my life even when I did not have all the answers. Yet being brave does not mean being without fear. Perhaps real courage is recognizing that the fear is there and deciding not to let it have the final say.

I think one of the biggest things I have not done because of fear is simply allowing myself to dream bigger.

I have spent so much of my life thinking about what is practical, what is affordable, what other people might need and what responsibilities I have to my family. If my children need something, I can spend without thinking twice. If someone I love needs help, I am usually there. But when it comes to myself, I can hesitate. I question whether I really need something. I think about whether I should spend the money. I wonder whether I should wait. I tell myself that there will always be another time.

Sometimes I wonder whether that is really prudence or whether, underneath it all, there is a little bit of fear.

Fear of making the wrong decision. Fear of wasting money. Fear of failing. Fear of discovering that something I really wanted was not meant for me after all. It can be much easier to stay where we are than to take a chance on something we deeply want.

I also think about how often I have held myself back creatively because I was afraid that what I created would not be good enough.

Writing has always been a huge part of who I am. I have written books, blog posts, reflections, social media content and personal stories. I have shared pieces of my life with people I may never even meet. Yet even after doing all of that, there are still moments when I wonder whether my words matter. Will anyone read them? Will anyone understand what I am trying to say? Will people judge me? Will they think I am too emotional, too personal or too much?

The funny thing is that I have already learned that perfection is not the point. My stories do not have to be perfect to be meaningful. My words do not have to change the world to touch one person. Somewhere along the way, I think I forgot that.

Perhaps fear has also stopped me from putting myself out there in bigger ways.

I have ideas. So many ideas. Some are practical, some are creative and some probably sound completely crazy until I start explaining them. I have always had that entrepreneurial side of me that wants to build something, create something and turn an idea into something real. Whether it is writing, publishing, boots, creative projects or something completely new, I know there is still more inside me that wants to come out.

But with every new idea comes the same questions.

What if it does not work? What if people do not like it? What if I spend time and money on it and nothing comes from it? What if I am too old to start something new? What if I fail publicly?

Those questions can become very loud.

But I am beginning to realize that there is another question I need to ask myself. What if I never try?

Failure is uncomfortable, but regret can stay with us for much longer. At least failure tells us that we tried. Regret often comes from knowing that we never gave ourselves the opportunity in the first place.

There are also relationships and connections I might approach differently if fear did not get in the way.

Loss has taught me that life can change in an instant. Losing someone who means the world to you changes the way you look at time, love and the people around you. It reminds you that tomorrow is never something we are guaranteed. I have experienced the pain of losing people I loved deeply, and those experiences have changed me.

Yet even knowing this, I can still hesitate to say what I feel.

Sometimes I hold back because I do not want to appear vulnerable. Sometimes I do not want to burden someone with my emotions. Sometimes I worry that saying too much will make me look weak. But perhaps vulnerability is not weakness at all. Perhaps it is one of the most honest forms of courage.

I think there are still things I want to say to people. There are people I want to thank. People I want to tell how much they have meant to me. People I want to forgive. There are also people I may need to let go of, not because I no longer care, but because I have learned that holding on is not always the same as loving.

Fear can make us hold on to things because change is frightening. But sometimes the very thing we fear is the doorway to something better.

And then there is the biggest fear of all for me.

The fear of trusting completely.

My faith has taught me so much about surrender. I have reached a place where I genuinely believe that God has a plan for my life, even when I cannot see what that plan is. I have experienced difficult seasons, heartbreak, disappointment and uncertainty, and yet somehow I have continued to find my way back to God.

I used to think trusting God meant knowing what would happen next. Now I understand that perhaps faith is trusting Him even when I do not know.

That is still a work in progress for me.

Sometimes I want answers immediately. I want to know where the next door is going to lead before I walk through it. I want reassurance that I am making the right decision before I take the first step. But faith does not always give us a map. Sometimes it gives us enough light to take the next step.

Perhaps that is what I am not doing because of fear. I am not always taking that next step.

I am waiting for certainty.

I am waiting until I feel ready.

I am waiting until I know everything will work out.

But life does not work that way.

There will always be uncertainty. There will always be things outside my control. There will always be people who do not understand my choices and situations that do not turn out the way I expected. I cannot control all of that. What I can control is whether I allow fear to make my world smaller.

So what am I not doing because of fear?

Perhaps I am not saying yes often enough to the things that excite me. Perhaps I am not taking enough chances on myself. Perhaps I am not allowing myself to dream without immediately calculating all the reasons something might fail. Perhaps I am still protecting myself from disappointment when what I really need to do is open myself up to possibility.

I do not want fear to become the reason I look back one day and wonder what might have happened.

I want to live.

Not recklessly, but fully.

I want to keep writing. I want to keep creating. I want to build things that make me proud. I want to continue sharing my faith and my stories. I want to love people openly. I want to laugh loudly, wear the boots I love, travel, try new things and say yes to experiences that make my heart happy. I want to keep discovering who I am in every new season of my life.

Most importantly, I want to trust God enough to understand that I do not have to know everything before I begin.

Maybe fear will never completely disappear. Maybe that is not the goal.

Maybe the goal is to stop allowing fear to make my decisions for me.

I have already survived things I once thought would break me. I have walked through grief, uncertainty, disappointment and change. I have started again more than once. I have picked myself up when life knocked me down. I have found faith when I needed it most.

So perhaps I am stronger than my fear gives me credit for.

And perhaps it is time I gave myself permission to find out just how far I can go.

The next chapter of my life does not need to be fearless.

It simply needs to be lived with faith, courage and an open heart.

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time: For Me, Life Is Christ

There are certain words in Scripture that we can hear many times, but every now and then, they speak to us in a much deeper and more personal way. For me, the words from today's second reading are exactly that: “Life to me, of course, is Christ.” The more I reflect on these words from St Paul, the more I realize that they are not simply beautiful words about faith. They are an invitation to look at my own life and ask myself what, or rather who, is truly at the centre of it. To say that “life is Christ” means recognizing that my life is not ultimately defined by my achievements, possessions, plans, disappointments or even the difficult seasons I have walked through. My life belongs to Christ, and everything I experience can become part of my relationship with Him.

That understanding has not come overnight. My own faith journey has had its twists and turns. I was baptized Catholic as a baby, attended catechism and grew up knowing the Church, but there was also a long period in my life when I walked away. I was away from the Church for many years, and for a time, I probably could not have imagined just how important my faith would eventually become to me. Then, about ten years ago, I found my way back. One of the most significant moments for me was going to Confession after being away for about fifteen years. That return was not simply about walking through the doors of a church again. For me, it felt like coming home. Since returning, I have never looked back, and I now see that God was never really finished with me, even during the years when I had wandered away.

My faith today is also very different from when I was younger because I have experienced more of life. I have experienced loss, disappointment, uncertainty, family struggles and moments when I have had to surrender things that were completely beyond my control. Through these experiences, I have learnt that trusting God does not mean understanding everything He allows to happen. There have been moments when I could have asked God why something happened or why certain things had to be so difficult. Yet, over time, I have learnt to trust His plan more deeply. I may not always understand what He is doing, but I have come to believe that God sees what I cannot see and knows what I cannot know.

That is why St Paul's words speak to me so strongly. When he says, “Christ will be glorified in my body, whether by my life or by my death,” he is showing us that his life belonged completely to Christ. His circumstances did not determine his faith, and his suffering did not cause him to turn away. Instead, he continued to trust and serve. I find that both challenging and inspiring because it is easy to say that Christ is at the centre of our lives when everything is going well. The real test comes when life does not go according to plan. Can I still say that life is Christ when I am hurting? Can I still trust Him when I do not understand? Can I continue to serve when I am tired or disappointed? I believe St Paul is reminding me that faith is not about having all the answers. It is about knowing who I can place my trust in even when I do not have the answers.

The first reading reinforces this beautifully when we are reminded that God's thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways are not our ways. How often have I tried to work out God's plan for my life? I have looked at circumstances and tried to understand why certain things happened, and I have tried to make sense of situations that simply did not make sense to me. But perhaps faith is learning to say, “God, I do not understand this, but I trust You.” That has become increasingly important in my own journey. I no longer want my faith to depend on whether life is going according to my plan. I want my faith to be strong enough to trust God even when His plan looks completely different from mine. Sometimes what I thought was a setback has eventually led me somewhere I never expected, and sometimes what I desperately wanted did not happen because God had something else in mind.

Then we come to today's Gospel, the parable of the workers in the vineyard, and this Gospel speaks to me in an especially personal way. The landowner goes out at different times of the day and hires workers. Some begin early in the morning, others are brought in later, and some only arrive at the very last hour. Yet when the day ends, the landowner gives them the same wage. Those who worked all day become resentful because, from a human perspective, it seems unfair. If I had worked from morning until evening while someone else had only worked for an hour, I might also have wondered why we were receiving the same. But Jesus is not really giving us a lesson about wages. He is teaching us about God's grace, generosity and mercy.

When I hear this Gospel today, I cannot help but think about my own return to the Catholic Church. I was not one of those people who stayed faithfully close to the Church every single day of my life. I wandered, I was away, and I took my own path for many years. Yet when I came home, God did not make me feel as though I had arrived too late. He did not ask me where I had been all those years before welcoming me back. He gave me another opportunity. He allowed me to rediscover my faith and to experience Him in ways I may never have experienced had I not gone through that journey. Looking back, I realize that God's mercy was there even when I was not paying attention to it.

That is why I believe so strongly that we should never make someone feel that they are too late to return to God. There is no “too late” with God and there is no expiration date on His mercy. There is always room in His vineyard. This is one of the reasons my Landings journey has been so meaningful to me. Joining Landings has given me an opportunity to reflect more deeply on what it means to welcome people who have been away from the Church and are trying to find their way home. It is not simply about bringing someone back to Mass. It is about listening, belonging and creating a space where someone can say, “I have been away,” without feeling judged. It is about allowing people to tell their stories and recognizing that everyone's journey back to God is different.

Perhaps because I have my own story of being away and returning, I understand how important that welcome can be. Sometimes people do not need someone to lecture them. They need someone to listen. Sometimes they do not need someone to remind them of everything they have done wrong. They need someone to remind them that they still belong. Sometimes they simply need someone to say, “It is okay. Come home.” My Landings journey has made me realize that my own experience of returning to the Church was not simply something that happened for me. Perhaps God can use that experience to help me welcome someone else. Perhaps my story can remind another person that returning to God is possible and that they do not have to feel ashamed of how long they have been away.

The workers in today's Gospel also remind me that God's Kingdom is not a competition. We do not earn more of God's love because we have been Catholics longer, and we do not become more worthy because we have served in the Church for decades. Someone who has only just returned is not somehow less loved because they arrived later. God's love is not measured according to our human calculations. When I returned to the Church after so many years, I did not have to earn my way back. I simply had to open my heart, and God met me there. That is the beauty of His mercy.

The Gospel also challenges me to look honestly at my own heart. It is very easy to compare our journey with someone else's, even within the Church. We can look at how much another person serves, how long they have been involved or what they seem to have received, and wonder why things appear different for us. But Jesus reminds us that we are not serving God for recognition or reward. We serve because we are grateful. We serve because we love Him. We serve because we have already received so much from Him. If someone returns to the Church after twenty years, that should be something we celebrate. If someone discovers their faith later in life, we should celebrate that too. Their return does not take anything away from us because God's love is not a limited resource. There is enough grace for all of us and enough room in His vineyard for everyone.

This is perhaps one of the greatest lessons I am taking away from today's readings. My journey back to the Church has taught me that God never stopped calling me, even when I was not listening. My Landings journey is teaching me that perhaps now I have a responsibility to help others hear that call too. Not by forcing, judging or telling people what they should do, but by listening, welcoming and sharing my own story. I want people who have been away from the Church to know that the door is still open. I want them to know that they are not alone and that their journey does not have to look like anyone else's. Because I know what it feels like to walk away, and I know what it feels like to come home.

Today, when I hear St Paul say, “Life to me, of course, is Christ,” I hear those words differently because of everything I have experienced. For me, it means that Christ is not simply a part of my life. He is the foundation of it. He is the One I turn to when I am grateful, the One I turn to when I am hurting and the One I trust when I do not understand. He is the One who welcomed me home when I found my way back, and perhaps now He is asking me to help make His Church feel like home for someone else.

The first reading reminds me that God's ways are higher than mine. The second reading reminds me that my life belongs to Christ. The Gospel reminds me that God's mercy welcomes everyone, even those who arrive at the very last hour. When I put all three readings together, I hear a very personal invitation to trust God, live for Christ and leave the door open for others to come home.

I do not know where my faith journey will take me next, but I know that I want my life to be a reflection of the One who never gave up on me. If I can help even one person who has been away from the Church feel welcomed, heard, loved and safe enough to take that first step home, then perhaps my own journey has a purpose beyond myself. Perhaps the years I spent away, the experience of returning and everything I have learnt since then can become part of how God uses me to reach someone else.

Because I have learnt that coming home to God is not something to be ashamed of. It is something to celebrate. And so today, I want to say those words not just with my lips but with my whole heart: “Life to me, of course, is Christ.” If Christ truly is my life, then I pray that my life will always leave a little more room for someone else to find their way back to Him.

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Reflection: Can I say the words of St. Paul, "Life to me is Christ"? What would that look like in my life now?

When I ask myself whether I can truly say, “Life to me is Christ,” I realize that this is not about how religious I am. It is about what guides me when life becomes difficult, what I hold on to when I do not have all the answers and what kind of person I choose to be each day.

For me, saying these words means allowing Christ to shape the way I live, not just the way I pray. It means trying to be more patient when I am frustrated, more forgiving when I have been hurt, more generous with my time and more willing to reach out to someone who may need encouragement. It means choosing love over resentment, gratitude over focusing on what I do not have and trust over fear.

It also means accepting that I cannot control everything. I like to understand things and make sense of situations, but faith reminds me that I do not always need to have all the answers. Sometimes I simply need to place what I cannot control in God's hands and trust that He will lead me where I need to be.

My Landings journey has also made me realize that living for Christ can be found in the simplest things. Sometimes it is listening to someone without judging, making someone feel welcome or simply being present when another person needs a little encouragement. I do not have to do something extraordinary to reflect Christ. I can do it through the ordinary moments of everyday life.

I know I will not always get it right, and I am certainly still a work in progress. But perhaps “Life to me is Christ” is not about being perfect. It is about choosing, day after day, to let my faith shape the way I live, love, serve and treat others. If I can carry Christ with me beyond the church and allow even a little of His love to be reflected through my life, then I believe I am beginning to live those words rather than simply say them.

First Reading - Isaiah 55:6-9

Second Reading - Philippians 1:20-24,27

Gospel - Matthew 20:1-16

Movie Recommendation: Joyful Noise (2012)

 If you are looking for a movie that combines music, faith, family, laughter, a little romance and plenty of heart, Joyful Noise is one I would definitely recommend adding to your watch list.

Released in 2012 and directed by Todd Graff, Joyful Noise is a musical comedy-drama centred around a small-town church choir in Pacashau, Georgia. The community is struggling financially, and the choir is facing the possibility of being shut down. Their hope is to win the National Joyful Noise Competition and bring some much-needed encouragement and pride back to their town.

But the biggest challenge isn't necessarily the competition itself. It is the clash between two very strong-minded women.

And this is where the movie gets really entertaining.

The two women at the centre of the story are Vi Rose Hill, played by Queen Latifah, and G.G. Sparrow, played by Dolly Parton. After the death of the choir director, Vi Rose takes over the choir. G.G., the director's widow, believes she should have had more say in what happens. The two women have very different personalities and very different ideas about how the choir should sound.

Vi Rose believes in tradition. G.G. believes that tradition should not stop you from trying something new.

Their disagreements create plenty of funny moments, but underneath all the arguments is something much more meaningful: both women genuinely care about their community, their families and their faith.

One of the biggest reasons I would recommend this movie is Dolly Parton.

Dolly plays G.G. Sparrow, and honestly, she brings so much personality to the role. G.G. is confident, outspoken, funny and completely unafraid to say exactly what she thinks. That makes her a wonderful character for Dolly to play.

What makes it even better is seeing Dolly share the screen with Queen Latifah. The contrast between the two characters gives the movie much of its energy. Their chemistry and musical performances are among the film's biggest attractions. Contemporary reviews also highlighted the strength of their performances and the musical numbers.

And if you already love Dolly Parton, you get the added pleasure of watching her do what she does so naturally: entertain, sing, make you laugh and occasionally deliver a little wisdom along the way.

Of course, you cannot talk about Joyful Noise without talking about the music.

This is a gospel choir movie, but it doesn't restrict itself to traditional gospel music. The film mixes gospel with contemporary pop influences, creating some wonderfully energetic musical performances. The choir even performs gospel-inspired versions of familiar popular songs.

The result is a soundtrack that feels joyful, uplifting and very accessible, even if you are not normally someone who watches gospel musicals.

There is something particularly wonderful about watching people who may be struggling with life come together through music. Singing becomes more than entertainment. It becomes a way of expressing faith, hope, frustration, love and community.

And that is really the heart of the movie.

Although the National Joyful Noise Competition provides the main storyline, there are several smaller stories happening at the same time.

Vi Rose is raising two teenagers and trying to protect her family while dealing with her own struggles. Her daughter Olivia, played by Keke Palmer, is talented and independent and does not always see eye-to-eye with her mother.

G.G.'s grandson Randy, played by Jeremy Jordan, also arrives and becomes romantically interested in Olivia. Their relationship adds another layer to the story, particularly because the adults have their own ideas about what is best for the younger generation.

There is also Walter, Vi Rose's son, whose character brings another dimension to the family story.

So while the movie is wrapped in music and comedy, it touches on some surprisingly real themes: parenting, grief, financial hardship, generational differences, relationships, faith and learning to accept that sometimes another person's way of doing things may have value too.

Perhaps the message I enjoyed most about Joyful Noise is the idea that harmony does not mean everyone has to sound the same.

That is true in music and, perhaps even more importantly, it is true in life.

Vi Rose and G.G. are very different women. They disagree, they clash and they certainly know how to get under each other's skin. But eventually they have to realize that their differences don't necessarily have to divide them.

They need one another.

And perhaps that is one of the loveliest messages hidden underneath all the singing and comedy: sometimes we create something beautiful precisely because different people bring different voices to the same song.

Joyful Noise is not a complicated movie, and it certainly isn't trying to be a serious theological exploration. In fact, critics were divided about the storyline, with some finding the plot predictable while praising the musical performances.

But sometimes you don't need a movie to be complicated.

Sometimes you simply want something that makes you smile.

Something that reminds you about faith.

Something that makes you want to sing.

Something that reminds you that difficult seasons don't last forever.

And sometimes you just want to watch Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah arguing, singing and trying to save a church choir!

So if you enjoy feel-good movies with music, humour, family, faith and a little bit of romance, I would definitely recommend giving Joyful Noise a try.

And if you are a Dolly Parton fan, that's even more reason to watch it.

After all, with Dolly Parton, Queen Latifah and a gospel choir involved, you already know you're going to get plenty of joyful noise.