The Gifted Hands Made It Again
There are moments in life when grace shows up so quietly, we mistake it for coincidence—or worse, for our own cleverness.
I remember one such moment. I had borrowed a friend’s car for a quick trip. The route was infamous for its multiple police checkpoints, and I was in a hurry. I didn’t bother checking the car’s documents. Twenty-five minutes in, I pulled over to buy coconut. As I returned, something on the dashboard caught my eye: the insurance and roadworthiness certificates had expired. I panicked..
I hate the idea of being stopped by officers, of being forced to beg or bribe just to keep moving. I considered turning back, ditching the car, and hopping on a bus. But something in me—call it stubbornness, call it faith—refused. I whispered a prayer. Not just for safe passage, but for integrity. “Lord, let me get through this without compromising who I am.”
And somehow, not a single officer flagged me down on the entire trip.
But here is the part that shames me: I didn’t thank God. Not really. Instead, I started rationalising. “Maybe it was the car,” I thought. “It looked expensive. Maybe they assumed I was someone important.” I stripped the moment of its miracle, dressed it in logic, and walked away as if I’d earned it.
It’s not the first time I have done that. In my practice, when I’m faced with a case that seems impossible, I often whisper a prayer before I begin. And when the pieces fall into place, I am tempted to chalk it up to my skill. But I know better. I know Who steadies those gifted hands.
If even I, ‘The Pope’ , can forget to see the sacred in the everyday, how much more the mere lay faithful?
Recently, two stories reminded me just how devotion—and sacrifice—can be abused.
The first was about a woman who adored perfume. It wasn’t just a scent; it was her identity. Her joy. Her signature. But her partner had severe allergies. So, out of love, she gave it up. Just like that. No complaints. No fanfare. She chose his comfort over her pleasure.
Later, he left her for another woman. His reason? “My new catch smells so good.”
He didn’t just forget her sacrifice—he mocked it.
And in a cruel twist of fate, after a romantic evening with his new flame, he suffered a fatal asthmatic attack.
The very thing she gave up to protect him became the thing that ended him.
The second story was about a man in love. In a moment of affection, he used his teeth to pop open a bottle for his partner. It cracked a tooth. He laughed it off, got it replaced with a gold-plated one. A small price, he thought, for the queen of his heart..
But later, she left him. “I can’t stand men with artificial teeth,” she said.
When he reminded her of how he lost it, she shrugged. “But I didn’t ask you to do that.”
He didn’t argue. He just nodded. But inside, something broke. Not the tooth—something deeper.
Reflectintrospection
What is your lived experience? These stories aren’t just about heartbreak but about how easily we dismiss the sacrifices others make for us. How we rationalise away grace, devotion, and love. How we forget to count our blessings because we are too busy counting what we think we deserve with a nauseatingly false sense of entitlement!
Gratitude isn’t just about saying “thank you.” It’s about seeing. Seeing the invisible efforts, the quiet prayers, the unspoken sacrifices. It’s about recognising that sometimes, what looks like luck or genius is really grace. And that behind every comfort we enjoy, someone may have paid a price we never even noticed.
Let us be better at noticing with intentionality!
Serenity Prayer
Dear Lord,
I am grateful for another year to my age.
Thank You for 8 years of Pope Evansio’s Reflection.
Thank You for those who genuinely love and support me,
I am grateful for those who betrayed my trust. Instead of being wounded and bitter, You made me wiser, stronger and better.
And most of all, be glorified for blessing me to be a blessing to others. Amen
