A Matter of Faith

Replacing yearly resolutions with daily declarations

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My father died on Sept. 15, 2013. Waiting for him to “declare himself,” as the neurologist described his comatose state, was the most exhausting experience in my life.

As I dodged an onslaught of emotions and selfishly begged for more time with him, I had to face reality. Time was running out and I needed to surrender.

I had not anticipated the lasting impact my father’s coma would have on me. Attached to tubes and monitors, despite the constant noise echoing through the hospital corridors, there was a deep-seated peace on his face.

Desperate for a glimpse inside my father’s mind, I squeezed my eyes shut and started negotiating with God. My struggle transitioned into prayer. I prayed that my father was encountering a place void of pain, anxiety, uncertainty and war. Heaven on earth, so to speak.

Even in his unconscious state, I felt my father’s love. As he hovered between two worlds, God gifted me time to stumble. I was bombarded by a flurry of questions that forced me to scrutinize my own “declaration.”

“Am I deliberately approaching each day or am I wasting the time I have been gifted?

“Am I accepting the will of God without requiring full understanding? Am I allowing anxiety to overshadow the blessings laid before me? Am I distracted by the chatter of this world? If I died tonight, am I prepared?”

As the onslaught of questions ricocheted inside my head, I watched the hospital staff tend to his unresponsive body. I envied their silent confidence.

I wondered if my lack of peace was hindering my ability to be present. I wondered if the medical team was confident because they accepted their limitations. I wondered, if I took my father’s place in the hospital bed, what words of wisdom he would say.

As 2025 presents new possibilities, I find myself thinking about the way my father approached life and the watermark he left on those who knew him.

I do not remember my father making New Year’s resolutions. Instead of making resolutions, I believe that he followed the words found in Matthew 6:34: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

He was at peace because he was in the moment and trusted God’s plan for his life.

There was no need for New Year’s resolutions because he declared himself daily to his family, to his friends, to his country and to his God. He loved life, didn’t allow cancer to be his identity and was not burdened by regret.

As I enter the 2025 Jubilee Year of Hope and reminisce on my father’s legacy, the words of St. Augustine offer a formula on how to replace New Year’s resolutions with a daily declaration. Simply stated, “Take care of your body as if you were going to live forever; and take care of your soul as if you were going to die tomorrow.”

This column may include both fiction and nonfiction, and views expressed do not necessarily represent those of The SUN. Submissions can be sent to editor@pagosasun.com.