Faith

December 21st, 2020

As I was praying the rosary last night, a thought had come to me: when we start to pray the decades, we are close to the medal of the Holy Mother. She sustains and strengthens us. She hears our prayers. As we continue to pray, we grow farther and farther from the medal of the Holy Mother. As this happens, it requires us to pray in faith until we grow, once again, closer to the medal of the Holy Mother, where she will once again sustain and strengthen us.

What causes us, though, to lose faith? Fear, depression, loneliness? And how can faith alleviate these symptoms? Prayer and risk.

Through prayer, we can seek the loving arms of God, the Father almighty. As our relationship with our faith grows stronger, so shall our faith in our Faith. Yes, as Mary does, so does God in sustaining and strengthening us. However, it takes faith on our part to know that God will continually provide for us: emotionally, physically and spiritually.

Through our faith and our works, we honor and praise God. However, in order to truly and spectacularly serve the Father almighty, we must take risks. If our hearts are humble and our motives righteous, taking risks opens the opportunity to mightily and dramatically honor Him.

As St. Louis de Montfort states: “If we do not risk anything for God, we will never do anything great for him.”

As with losing faith, fear and depression and loneliness can hinder our willingness to take risks in order to fully serve and honor the Father almighty. One must have a heart full of joy and humility and thanksgiving which will make the risk-taking less daunting. I also believe that even risk-taking, which does not pan out in the manner intended, will make God smile.

How does one, however, overcome fear, depression and loneliness? Prayer. Constant and unceasing prayer. Not only should one lift up their requests, but they should also offer up prayers of thanksgiving for the many blessings God bestows on us daily. It is easy to overlook that which we take for granted: a body that is accorded another day to live, shelter to keep us warm, nourishment to keep us strong, the opportunity to serve others.

I have found that concentrating on the benevolence of the Lord has lessened the fear, eased the depression and soothed the loneliness. By my placing complete abandon in the Lord, I have a companion who unconditionally loves me, stands constantly by my side, and makes my soul sing.

So, pray unceasingly to discern his will and, once it is revealed, risk everything. There is absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain in doing so. Do it with a pure and humble heart. And when fear and depression and loneliness rear their heads, remember that they are not of God, but of ourselves.

Peace and joy during this holiday season.

Christian Avila

Hail, Holy Queen

October 22nd, 2020

The clock starts ticking as soon as we exit our mother’s birth canal. No one knows how or when exactly we’ll die: one day, six months, ten years? Heart attack, cancer, natural causes? All that is certain, is that with every breath we take, we’re one heartbeat closer to the end; our earthly existence smothered.

I’ve always had this unnatural fear of death. Will it be painful or peaceful? Will I have time to accomplish everything that I’ve wanted to accomplish? Will I wind up in Heaven or in Hell? These are all philosophical questions, and I’m guessing that answers would vary from person to person based on their upbringing and education and experiences.

I am in poor health, so I imagine that my clock is ticking a bit faster than others. I have, however, prayed to the Holy Mother to grant me at least another ten years so that I could leave behind a modest catalogue of compositions. I envision myself writing at least four pieces per year, which means a body of approximately forty works. I would, however, enjoy living longer and leaving more pieces behind for people to enjoy and to criticize and to interpret.

So, why is death such a frightening concept to me? Pain is my primary fear. I don’t want to go out with brutal chest pains or with a blood clot in the brain. I’ve always envisioned that at my time, I would open my eyes and raise my head long enough to state: “It is finished, and so am I.” The candle snuffed out.

What are my other fears? Leaving this earth without fulfilling God’s plan for me. It may have taken many years to discern and accept what it is I am to do, and now that I have it figured out, I would like to live long enough to carry it out.

I also have a fear of leaving loved ones behind. True friends and loving family will be sad to see me depart, and that causes my heart sadness. I do not want others to mourn my death but, rather, celebrate my life. Granted, I have not had a life free of trouble and worry and missteps, but I have, along the way, met incredible people, traveled to amazing places and done things that have stretched my comfort and knowledge.

I celebrate my life, for it is a good one.

Every evening I pray the rosary. I take great comfort in speaking to the Holy Mother, and the other night I had an experience with Her. As I was focused on the prayers, I felt Her presence. I felt an outpouring of abundant love.

In talking to Her about my fears of death, I am reminded of these two bible verses from the fourth glorious mystery: “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.” John 14:2-3.

Yes, my fears are unfounded. I am confident that when it is my time to depart this earth for Heaven, the Holy Mother will be there with me to see me to the other side and guide me to my Father’s house.

My wish for you is that you experience that abundant love of the Holy Mother. She cares for us in a way only a mother can.

Hail, Holy Queen, indeed.

Christian Avila

A Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

 September 21^st, 2020

I’ve been thinking about this prayer lately, and despite its simplicity, what it asks of us is challenging and difficult.

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;

Where there is hatred, let me sow charity;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is error, truth;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master,

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

To be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying to ourselves that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

 

The challenge is to take the negativity we’re surrounded with and transform it to a virtuous quality: hatred to charity, injury to pardon, error to truth, etc. How easy it is to be judgmental, to hold a grudge, to live in fear and confusion.

If we place those traits at the Lord’s feet, we will experience a sense of peace and love and understanding. We will also be performing the Lord’s work. Jesus showed charity and pardon when encountering the woman in the temple who had committed adultery. The Pharisees had stated that as a result of her sin, the punishment was to be stoned to death.

Jesus then kneeled and wrote in the sand: “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” The Pharisees, knowing that they had been outwitted, left Him and the woman alone. Jesus assured her that she had been forgiven and warned her to never commit that sin again.

Faith and hope are two of the most difficult concepts to employ in our daily lives. Jesus relied on faith in the garden at Gethsemane when He discerned His fate: to absolve Humanity of their sin through his death on the cross. How deep His faith must have been to knowingly accept His destiny. How much love He must have had for His people that he should surrender his life.

Finally, let us indeed be instruments of Your peace and Your love by helping our neighbors experience hope instead of hopelessness, acceptance instead of judgment, compassion instead of indifference.

It is through these individual actions that we can wield global change. Our actions can trigger a cascade, causing others to take up and carry the banner of St. Francis. What a glorious world it will be when it is filled with Love, Harmony and Selflessness instead of intolerance, discord and egoism.

I am far from righteous, but I will toil daily to put into practice these ideals. I will be a light of the Lord’s goodness and I choose to live my life through joy and service.

Christian Avila

Keeping Sight of God and His Plan

August 30^th, 2020

I was in a relationship with a genuinely good guy. He was passionate and intelligent and thoughtful and insightful; the list could go on. I, however, received a message from him today informing me that he was ending our relationship. It shocked me for a quick minute, but I read the entire message, took a deep breath and gave thought to his reasons for terminating things.

The message was standard fare: we haven’t seen each other in months; we don’t speak regularly; I wouldn’t be able to move to him until December and, even then, I don’t drive, so how would I transport my things?

As I read and re-read the message, I delved deeper into its contents: it wasn’t about me; it never was. It was about him. He needed someone to cater to his needs, and he gaslighted me into thinking that any wants of mine weren’t important. He expected me to put my obligations and distractions aside. I work, have friends with whom I do things and I write music. That business takes up most of my time. In addition, I’m struggling with my mental and physical health. Appointments with my network of professionals takes up time, too.

I do, however, take some responsibility for our poor rapport. It was a long-distance relationship; they seldom work, and I should have known that going in. Also, we never made it a point to communicate to one another our needs and our boundaries. If you don’t have communication, things will deteriorate no matter how much effort you employ.

I wasn’t that heartbroken, though, for there is one relationship I cherish above all others: my relationship with God. As I look back through my life, there are two constants that have seen me through the good and the bad: The Lord and my music. Some may consider my saying that I cherish the relationship I have with my music as heretical, but I believe that it is a gift from God, and through prayer and discernment, I have reconciled that it is His will that I compose, and I do so with a glad heart.

The Lord has always had a hand in how I live, where I live and what I do. I can say with certainty that I wouldn’t be alive today without God’s grace and beneficence.

So, that leads me to where I am today: from committed to single. I haven’t lost sight of what is important to me, and that is glorifying the Lord through music. I have been fairly prolific lately. I am currently finishing a piano sonata, which is my third piece in three months.

I want to thank my ex for, as unintentional as it may have been, reinforcing what is important in my life. I certainly wish him the best in life, and I hope that he finds happiness wherever he looks. As for me, I will keep my eyes firmly affixed to the Lord and give him praise and thanksgiving through every note I write.

With devotion and humility, I remain,

Christian Avila

Life’s Passage

August 22^nd, 2020

I remember the first moment I truly experienced the passage of time. I was in the foyer of Brody Middle School in Des Moines, Iowa. I seemed to be out of sync with everyone around me. Everything had a hazy aura surrounding them: people, doors, windows. It was a surreal experience. I wasn’t sure what was happening at the time, but I felt it wasn’t normal.

I couldn’t exactly walk up to my classmates and ask: “This is what I’m facing; have you faced anything similar?” Middle school, at least in my hometown, was a cesspool of rumors, gossip and insults. Even my best friends weren’t immune to the syndrome. I would have been labeled a ‘freak’ if I had described the phenomenon to anyone.

Fast forward thirty-some years, and I am experiencing the same sensation. But this time, I don’t see auras surrounding my environment. Now, the phenomenon is much more insidious: mortality.

As I’ve grown older, I acutely realize that I’m on the downhill slide of life, and that terrifies me. I’m not afraid of death; after all, I’ll be in the arms of my heavenly Father, and that is something I look forward to. What I’m afraid of is leaving this earth without writing all that is within me.

The Lord has spoken to me; telling me that He will not bring me home to Glory until I have fulfilled His plan for me. I have discerned that plan as writing music to exalt Him, and now that I have written some pieces, I don’t know when He’ll be bringing me home.

I now feel such a passion when I’m composing. The journey is exhilarating, and it excites me to watch things unfold musically; I don’t want that feeling to end. So, I’ve sent a prayer to the Lord, asking for St. Cecilia’s intervention, to grant me ten more years to write. I surmise that if I compose four pieces each year, I’ll have composed over forty opera, and that is a body of work I can accept. It is a legacy that I can live with.

I can endure the physical pain. I recall the story of Job and how he persisted through so much loss and suffering while always praising the Lord. I can stomach the mental illness: depression and neurosis reveal truths I couldn’t otherwise understand. I will always praise Him: through successes and failures, euphoria and depression, good health and illness, I will send up a prayer of thanksgiving.

Please, Lord, please, grant me the time to continue to praise You while healing those needing relief from either bodily or spiritual pain. I have accepted Your plan and will, in earnest, carry it out as best I can.

I offer heartfelt thanks for standing by me these forty-eight years. Allow me the time to repay You through my music. And, like Haydn’s ‘Bear’ symphony, I end the ennui of my writing and leave you to deal with your mortality, no matter the age, as best you can.

Christian Avila 

Bumblebees and God’s Plan

August 2^nd, 2020

When I was growing up, especially during those times when school was out and my mother didn’t want to be bothered by her two active sons, she would exile us to the backyard and leave us to entertain ourselves. To get there, you exited through the back door. During those summer months, when the humidity was at its highest, the air would be perfumed with various scents of the flowers which thickly grew on the fence: morning glories, moonflowers, cardinal reds. But, with flowers come all form of bees: honeybees, bumblebees, mason bees and their more insidious cousins, hornets and wasps.

I remember one morning as our mother was shooing us out the door, those flying insects were performing aerial acrobatics: loops, rolls, flying from flower to flower. I thought the best idea would be to leave them alone to do their own thing, but mom had other notions. She picked up a brick and heaved it at the fence with such force that it caused ripples down its entire length. “Run!” she yelled, which went against my parents’ former advice: “If a bee lands on you, stay still and it won’t sting you.”

So, now I had an angry swarm of bees chasing after me and my brother, intent on exacting their revenge. Incredibly, neither of us were stung, but I harbored an intense case of apiphobia following that incident.

If I encountered a bee, I would change direction and walk the other way; I would cross the street; I would lie down in the fetal position sucking my thumb and crying, all in the hopes that it would witness the pathetic encounter and realize it wasn’t worth it to end their life over such a pitiful being.

My fear of bees would follow me for another thirty-five years, or so, until I met a man ironically called ‘B’. He taught me about the Apis mellifera. He lectured me on their purpose and humanity’s need for them. He educated me on their temperament. He would get them to land on him and, unbelievably, they didn’t sting him; rather, they laid on his shoulder or hung out in his hand. It took several more years but, eventually, I did let go of that fear.

I now watch in amazement as bumblebees move from flower to flower, plant to plant, doing its thing to bring us those beautiful flowers and those lovely plants and that much needed food. I no longer shy away but move closer to watch them and thank them for the work they do.

We aren’t much different than the bumblebee when it comes to action. If we are still and not only discern God’s plan for our lives but act on that discernment, then we, too, will create beautiful things that provide not only for the physical but for the emotional nourishment we require.

God has a plan for us all. What’s yours? Are you enriching others or listlessly moving through life?

Bring beauty to the earth. Be the bumblebee.

Stay positive, stay safe and stay the course.

Christian Avila

That Which Must Grow

July 28^th, 2020

I have watched three amazing young women move forward in the next phase of their lives: two have graduated high school and are heading off to college and the third is pursuing her graduate degree. It is a bittersweet goodbye; I have come to respect them as coworkers and am sad to see them leave, but I know they must stretch their legs and forge a path forward in their own lives.

I remember myself being that young and looking at the world as mine for the taking. I remember thinking myself invincible. I explored my sexuality for the first time, partied all night and went to work the next day. I remember my friends—most of whom have moved on with their lives, but I still think of fondly—and think of the crazy adventures upon which we embarked.

There’s a reason why ‘reckless abandon’ has become part of our lexicon: we act first and think later. We don’t consider the consequences of our actions; we are for instant gratification. There’s nothing wrong with that philosophy when we are in our late teens and early twenties; the ages before we must ‘adult’. Why not enjoy our youth and sow our oats before we must settle down and act the part of the responsible civically-engaged grownup?

I’m not complaining about how my life has turned out, it wouldn’t do me any good; what has passed has passed, and I can’t magically reverse time (unless I drank decaffeinated coffee while riding backwards on a stationary bike), but I can live vicariously through others, which I plan to do.

I’m going to celebrate their successes, mourn for their losses and console for their missteps. I’ll be their loudest cheerleader and their most empathetic counselor.

It has taken me forty-eight years to become the accountable adult I am today, and I still misstep and make curious mistakes—curious as in you should have known better—but I can relive my own youth through other’s: smile as they bumble about figuring things out or cry as they fail to meet their expectations or grin as they experience their first kiss.

I look forward to the maturation process of thinking they know everything to realizing they know very little; from expecting everything with little work to having little with intense labor. Even though times will be difficult, there will be that realization that the chains are broken, and they are free to be whomever they choose, do whatever they want and live however they prefer.

I am excited for them, for everything must grow: flowers, learning, earning and life. Yes, I am jealous. I wish I had the opportunity to change my past, but I can grow during my sunset years as I watch them take their first steps into independence.

Stay positive, stay safe and stay the course.

Christian Avila