HAPPY NEW YEAR

 

THANKSGIVING FOR ANOTHER YEAR

 

Our Father who art in heaven, owner of Truth, of time and of eternity: Yours is today and tomorrow, the past and the future. As we end the year 2024, on behalf of myself and my family, we want to thank you for everything we received from you.

Thank you for the family you gave us, for life and love, air and sun, for joy and pain, for everything that was possible and for what could not be.

Thank you for welcoming us into your true Church. We offer you everything we did this year that is ending. The work we were able to do, the things that passed through our hands, and what we were able to build with them in a positive way.

Also, Lord, today we want to ask for your forgiveness.

Forgiveness for our sins, for the evil we have caused, for the time lost, for the money wasted, for the omissions, for the useless word and the wasted love.

Forgive me for empty works and for work poorly done. And forgive me for living without enthusiasm. Also for the prayer, which little by little, we were postponing and which until now we do to thank you for all that you have given us.

For all our forgetfulness, carelessness and silence. Once again we ask for your forgiveness, Lord.

We will begin a new year and we stop our life, before the new calendar still unused. We present to you these future 365 days, which only You know, who will get to live them completely. If we do not finish them... help us to die in You, in sanctifying grace, after having gone - sincerely contrite - to the tribunal of Confession.

Today we ask you for each one of us: peace and joy, strength and prudence, charity and wisdom, the effort to be faithful to you and always live in your Grace, because only in Grace is the safe path traveled. Only the fool does not understand this, so we ask you to remove any blindfold that prevents us from seeing our foolishness.

Lord, help us to be jealous of your glory and that of your Church, and to live only for You, in You and for You.

We want to live each day with optimism and goodness, carrying everywhere a heart full of understanding and peace that always seeks the Truth of your Word. Let nothing tear us away from it, for your faith is our greatest treasure.

Close our ears to all slander, to false doctrines against your Word. And our lips to lying, selfish, biting or hurtful words. Open, instead, our being to all that is good.

May our spirit be filled only with blessings, and spread them in our path. Fill us with goodness and joy, so that those who live with us, or those who come close to us, find a little bit of YOU in our lives.

Thank you, Lord, for everything and forgive our debts to you. Guide us all along the path of the narrow road that will allow us one day to enter through the narrow door and be in your eternal lap to bless you forever and ever. If for this it is necessary that you use your right hand to shake us, we accept in advance any pain and sorrow, however difficult they may be.

Give us a happy 2022 and teach us to love you, always living in your grace, and to follow you with complete fidelity. Thank you, Lord, for all the blessings of the past year, as well as for those that you will pour out in the year that begins.

Most Holy Virgin Mary, I commend my entire family to your Immaculate Heart.

Amen.

THE PRAISE THAT LIFTS US

How could man remain silent when time is renewed, and the Lord once again shows His mercy? As the night falls, closing one year and opening another, all of creation invites us to praise the Creator, to recognize in Him the source of all goodness and the fulfillment of all hope. “Great are You, Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is Your power, and Your wisdom is without measure,” says Saint Augustine, reminding us that praise is not just a duty but the natural response of a soul that has found its Creator.

To praise God at the beginning of a new year is far more than a tradition; it is a profoundly human and spiritual act. It acknowledges that time rests in His hands, that everything we are and everything we hope for depends on His providence. Saint Irenaeus of Lyon writes: “The glory of God is man fully alive, but the life of man is the vision of God.” In every act of praise, especially as a new cycle begins, the soul rises toward its eternal destiny, leaving behind fears and sorrows to enter the light of His presence. Praise is not an empty gesture but the echo of the truth within our hearts: the recognition that in Him we live, move, and have our being.

Looking back, the trials, joys, and struggles of life reveal His faithfulness. Every day He has upheld us is a testament to His love, even when we failed to perceive it. Saint Bernard declares: “The grateful soul never ceases to praise; whoever has tasted the love of God finds in praise their daily sustenance.” Thus, praise is not only gratitude for what has been received but also a trustful surrender to what lies ahead. On this threshold of a new year, praise becomes our most sincere response and our greatest act of hope.

All of creation proclaims the glory of God. As Saint Basil the Great says: “The heavens proclaim the glory of God, and the firmament shows forth the work of His hands. If creation praises Him, how much more should man, the masterpiece of His love?” The sun rising on the dawn of a new year, the stars twinkling on New Year’s Eve, and the wind blowing gently or fiercely—all are living hymns that proclaim the Lord’s goodness. But man, made in God’s image, has a higher duty. It is not enough to sing; we must live in praise, making each day, starting with this first sunrise of the year, a continuous hymn of love and fidelity.

Let us not live halfheartedly. On this New Year’s Eve and in the year that lies ahead, let us lift our hands, our voices, and our lives toward God. May every day of 2025 be an offering, every action a sacrifice, and every trial a cry of victory. “When the soul sings, the devil flees; when the soul trusts, heaven opens,” teaches Saint Cyprian. Let us hold nothing back, leave nothing unoffered. Let praise be our strength in battle, our banner on the journey, our lamp in the darkness. Let us praise God with all we are, proclaiming with the angels: “Worthy is the Lord of all praise and glory.”

At the end of our days, may our praise in this 2025 become a torch that lights the way to eternity. As Saint Gregory of Nyssa exclaims: “When we praise God, we anticipate eternity; our earthly voice joins the angelic choirs, and our hope becomes vision.”

“HOLY, HOLY, HOLY IS THE LORD GOD OF HOSTS,” sing the angels. May this hymn be ours as well, today, in this new year that begins, and for all eternity.

OMO

Mary, the Burning Thornbush and the Mystery of the Consumed Flame

Oh Mary, you are not only the thornbush that burns without being consumed, but also the one that, in humility, allows itself to be consumed to give way to the Light. Your greatness lies not in preserving yourself, but in giving yourself entirely; not in resisting the fire, but in becoming the very flame that vanishes in the radiance of Christ.

You are that thornbush which, touched by the divine fire, consumes itself in silence—not to disappear, but to let the Word shine. Is this not your highest miracle, Mother? That, being full of grace, you make yourself small; that, being the throne of the Most High, you become His handmaid. You allow yourself to be consumed, Mary, not because God annuls you, but because you give yourself completely. Your will burns in the blaze of love, so that He alone remains visible, He alone is known and loved.

As we contemplate you, burning thornbush, we see how you are consumed to become the first altar where Christ, the Lamb, is offered to the world. Your flesh gives way to His flesh; your blood, to His blood. All of you, oh Mother, are the fertile field where the heavenly wheat sprouts and bears fruit. And though you burn in this offering, you are not destroyed but glorified, for in your surrender, the world finds the doorway to heaven.

Thus, in the burning of your being, you reveal the most sublime mystery: whoever gives everything gains everything; whoever is consumed by love is exalted to eternity. Like the burning thornbush of Sinai, which ceased to be a mere bush to become a sign of the eternal, so too do you, Mary, vanish before the eyes of man so that Christ may be the only one visible. Not because you are lost, but because in Him, you find your fullness.

Oh Mary, what more can we say of you? That you are consumed by love is not loss but gain; not extinction, but perfect communion with the eternal fire. You teach us that true greatness lies not in preserving ourselves, but in giving ourselves away. Let the thornbush burn so that the light may be seen; let the mother step aside so that the Son may reign. Thus, in your humility, Mary, you guide us to the ultimate mystery: only when we disappear into the fire of divine love do we reach eternity.

Blessed are you, thornbush consumed in the fullness of Christ. For in your burning, we find the highest lesson: that total self-giving is the purest form of glory. You, who were consumed in the most perfect yes, make us living flames, little burning thornbushes, ready to vanish in the splendor of God’s love. Amen.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

 

THE CHILD WHO CALLS US TO THE HEART: A REFLECTION ON THE INCARNATION

 THE MASTER OF PRAYER

Oh, souls thirsting for God, fix your gaze on the mystery we contemplate in the cave of Bethlehem. What do we see there? A Child, small, defenseless, lying in a manger. This Child is God Himself, the eternal Word, who does not disdain the weakness of our flesh but assumes it to save us. What could move Him to this if not an ineffable love, a burning desire for closeness with us? This is the mystery of the Incarnation: the almighty God who lowers Himself to the humblest state to draw us to His heart.

Contemplate Him. In His very littleness, the Child Jesus teaches us profound lessons. Saint Teresa of Jesus, in her heavenly wisdom, invites us to learn from Him: “Whoever lacks a master to teach him how to pray, let him take this Lord so human, and he will see how much he gains.” Who is more human than this Child? Who is closer? If clarity in prayer is lacking, if your spirit feels lost, turn your eyes to the manger. Look at His tiny hands outstretched, as if already calling us to rest in His love.

This Child, though He speaks no words, teaches through His very presence. His silence speaks louder than any sermon: prayer does not consist in multiplying words but in being in His presence with an open heart. He is the perfect master, who in the simplicity of His cradle shows us the path to communion with God.

THE PATH OF SPIRITUAL CHILDHOOD

Why did God choose to come as a child? Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus answers with luminous clarity: “Jesus chose to come as a child so that no one would fear to approach Him.” Here lies the reason for His littleness: He does not want us to fear Him but to trust Him completely. Just as a child extends his arms to his father, so He calls us to stretch our hearts toward Him.

Christmas invites us, as Thérèse understood so well, to live spiritual childhood. What does this mean? It means putting aside self-sufficiency, recognizing our dependence on God, and abandoning ourselves in His arms like a child who fully trusts the love of his father. The greatness of this path lies in that by making ourselves small, God takes us and raises us to Himself.

LOVE MADE SMALL

Consider this: the same God who holds the universe in His hand became a fragile and dependent child. What an abyss of love! He, who needed nothing, chose to need everything, so that we might learn not to fear Him. In His poverty, He offers us His riches; in His smallness, He reveals His greatness. Thus, by His very presence in the manger, He teaches us that there is nothing to fear when approaching Him.

Who could contemplate this mystery without being moved? God did not come as a powerful king to impose Himself but as a child to implore love. This Child calls us not with words but through His very littleness, and He says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28). His very presence is rest for the soul, balm for the heart.

COME TO THE MANGER

Come, then, to the manger. Look upon the Child Jesus and let Him speak to you in the silence of His humility. Offer Him your love, however small, for this Child despises nothing; He came precisely to seek what is little and humble. If ever you feel unworthy to approach, remember that this Child came not for the righteous but for sinners. His love knows no limits or conditions.

Oh, entire nations, hear this call: Behold the Child, behold Love made flesh. This is the God who lowers Himself to raise us, who becomes small to conquer us. Look into His eyes, so full of tenderness; His smile, so full of peace. He is not a distant God but the God who takes our misery to fill us with His riches. His very littleness is a cry that resounds in the soul: “Come, fear not; I am your rest, your hope, your salvation.”

What excuse remains for not loving Him? What obstacle could stand between this Child and your heart? As you gaze upon this manger, the heavens open, and a voice seems to whisper to every soul: “Love Him, for He has already loved you first. Follow Him, for He has come to seek you.” Let this Child ignite in you a fire that will never be extinguished, a love that nothing can hinder.

Nations, souls, hearts: kneel before this God made Child, for in His weakness lies your strength, in His poverty your glory, and in His tenderness the fullness of all your longing. Come to Bethlehem, for there eternity begins. There, in the humility of a manger, is the King who will reign not from a throne but from your heart. Love Him, and you will be His forever.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

• Teresa of Jesus, The Book of Life, chap. 22.

• Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Manuscript A, 4v-5v.

• The Holy Bible, Mt 11:28; 2 Cor 8:9.

ADVENT: THE DESERT THAT BLOOMS

Advent is not merely a time of waiting; it is a profound path of transformation. In this season, the Church invites us to prepare our hearts to encounter Christ, not only in the commemoration of His birth in Bethlehem but also in His glorious Second Coming. Advent calls us to allow God to act in our lives, even when our souls feel like barren deserts—dry and lifeless. Because Advent is the time when the desert begins to bloom.

In biblical language, the desert holds deep significance: it is a place of trial and dryness but also of encounter with God. Israel journeyed for forty years through the wilderness, and there they experienced Yahweh’s faithful love. Similarly, during Advent, we are called to walk through this spiritual desert, trusting that divine grace can transform our barrenness into a flourishing garden of life.

The prophet Isaiah speaks words of hope: “The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom like the crocus” (Isaiah 35:1). This promise is not just poetic imagery but a reality: where our souls seem lifeless, where sin or lukewarmness has made our interior life dry, God can work wonders. But what must we do to make our desert bloom?

THE DESERT WITHIN US

At times, our hearts can feel like desolate places. The distractions of the world, the noise, sin, and lack of prayer can turn them into barren land where nothing beautiful seems to grow. Yet God does not need natural fertility to act. His grace is the living water that can make even the driest places bloom. St. Thérèse of Lisieux, in her simple wisdom, said: “The Lord does not reject our smallness; on the contrary, He transforms the smallest things into wonders.” Even our weaknesses and failures, when offered to Him, can become sources of life and hope.

Advent invites us to open our hearts, to remove the stones that hinder the growth of faith’s seed, and to trust that, even if we do not yet see the fruits, God is working in the hidden places.

THE LIVING WATER THAT TRANSFORMS EVERYTHING

In the Gospel, Jesus promises us the living water that wells up to eternal life. This water, a symbol of the Holy Spirit, can change our dryness into spiritual fertility. But to receive it, we must embrace the mystery of Advent: the mystery of active waiting, preparation, and conversion.

St. John of the Cross, a great teacher of the spiritual desert, reminds us: “In the silence of the desert, God speaks to the heart.” This holy season calls us to silence—not as an absence, but as a space of encounter. It is in this silence that God waters our souls and brings forth the flowers of faith, hope, and charity.

THE PROMISE OF A NEW BEGINNING

Advent is, ultimately, the promise that God can always bring something new into our lives. No matter how dry our souls may feel, what matters is that we trust Him and allow Him to act. Just as the desert blooms with rain, our lives will flourish with grace if we let Him be at the center of everything.

The prophet Isaiah concludes: “The wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy” (Isaiah 35:1-2). This is Advent: a time to transform our dryness into joy, our waiting into encounter, and our lives into perpetual praise of the God who comes.

OMO

BIBLIOGRAPHY

1. Story of a Soul, St. Thérèse of Lisieux.

2. The Ascent of Mount Carmel, St. John of the Cross.