Letter from Nicole Law

Dear sister,

For a large part of my childhood, I was a quiet girl. I didn’t contribute much in class due to my intense shyness and would squirm in fear if I were called on. I preferred to recede into the walls when necessary and would find it difficult to even string together a sentence at times. I would rather go unnoticed; it seemed safer that way.

Though I attended a Catholic school for most of my school years, I did not know God as Father. He was this higher authority that seemed to have control over my life, yet I did not really know who He was. I went through the motions. Sunday mass was an obligation, Confirmation was a blur and I recall nothing from the Catechism classes I attended. I prayed almost mechanically and wondered why I was met with a resounding silence. However, it was a place where I could escape the noise and expectations of the people around me. Those expectations evolved into demands I made on myself. I was determined to check off the many items on the checklist of life – good grades, get into a good university, meet a good Catholic guy and get married.

But at least in prayer, I could forget about these things. I trudged on through the silence and wondered what He sounded like.

University itself was a whirlwind. I left the security of home in Singapore and traded my sunscreen and shorts for radiators and fleece in London. I lived in a Catholic chaplaincy, a student residence full of young people searching for and seeking the Lord, for the first time and encountered the faith in a new way. The first email I sent just before I left for university in London was one to my university chaplain. I recall the warmth with which I was welcomed and received. Weekly visits to the chapel for Sunday mass were first an obligation, but evolved into something much more. Over cups of cocoa and cake, I ventured out from my silence and was amazed to see the sparkle in the eyes of people when they spoke of Him.

At the end of my first year of study, I made the leap and applied to stay in the chaplaincy. We came from different continents and spoke different languages, but somehow like at Pentecost, we realized that a deeper but unseen thread bound us all together as we gathered in the Upper Room. Our voices melded into a singular song of praise in that chaplaincy.

I was not one to gravitate towards the chapel, yet I found myself drawn there at odd times. I recall friends inviting me down to join adoration on Tuesdays and wondering what they were talking about. I recall rushing home after a difficult exam one evening, lost and searching. I found myself crashing through the doors to the chapel and sitting down in front of the altar, pouring my heart out there and then. I felt very bare, like the altar that day, yet a delicate warmth had started to burn in my heart.

A still small voice urged me to go deeper, to find He who had held me in my most vulnerable moments. Yet, I tried to ignore the voice many times. I was afraid of what the voice had to say. It was easier to live life the way I always had; I could always continue to be luke-warm.

The voice only grew louder, though I tried to drown it out with my busyness. There was always something I could fill my time with; I could travel somewhere, buy something, head to a cafe. All of it seemed to be a distraction, an elaborate ploy to ignore the voice. Yet I felt unsatisfied and deeply unhappy at the time. He was inviting me to know Him deeper still, to a mission that lay beyond myself. It was uncomfortable and scary and I did not know what to expect.

As I learned the sound of His voice, I could hear Him telling me to take the plunge, for He would hold my hand. He drew me out beyond the shallow waters where I had spent most of my life, always never too far from the shore. Eventually, after much prayer and encouragement from my friends, I yielded and opened myself to the opportunity to serve in my university’s Catholic Society. I found a community of like-minded young people burning with love for the Father, who I had just started to know more deeply. He was teaching me what it meant to put His love into action by reaching out to other young people with the small gestures - an invitation to mass or an impromptu cup of coffee to share our daily struggles in the cafe opposite our university. Then, began the slow burn, that feeling of falling in love with someone as you begin to know them more and more each day. Each day He was revealing Himself in beautiful ways and I was emerging from my silence. Three years passed and I bid farewell to London. There was a heaviness in my heart, but I knew that the time I had spent there was just the beginning of a maturing of my love story with Him.

Upon returning home from abroad, I was confronted with an intense loneliness and desolation. I was a boat without a harbour, drifting endlessly and yearning to find my place in the local church. Around this time, I started listening to podcasts online and was deeply touched by the sense of familiarity and community I experienced. These women seemed like they were talking to me, like a fellow sister! I had never felt so welcome. That planted the seed in my heart – to be His voice and start a podcast too.

I fought the thoughts, “Yes, Lord I had responded to Your call already, wasn’t that enough?” Yet, the stirring never went away. I presented Him with many reasons why the idea was not a good one. “I don’t have the technical skills, Lord,” I said. “I don’t have anything meaningful to say, Lord,” was another. Yet, the Lord had a way of gently coaxing me out of my shell. I made a deal with the Lord there and then, as I ploughed through the technicalities. I was poring over articles on the internet, enlisting the help of friends and wondering why He would lead me down this path only to see me in this frustrated mess. I recall blurting out a quick prayer, “Lord, if this goes online today, I’ll know that this is what You want me to do.” As I said these words, the error message on my laptop vanished and my podcast link was verified. I was amazed and sat there quite overwhelmed. I heard a distinct voice in my heart saying “Be my hands, my feet, my voice.” I started out by sending the podcast to a few friends, not expecting much of a response. I had already yielded to His will – that was enough wasn’t it? I did not think much of the impact of what I was saying in those short 5 minute soundbites while reflecting on Sunday gospel passages. Soon, my friends started sending me requests for topics and I found myself planning a new series of episodes.

I had never been someone with “much to say” and here I was, exposing myself in a vulnerable way to the rest of the world, as I myself navigated the ups and downs of the spiritual life. A particular episode that I recorded was a deeply emotional one, in which my voice was strained and I was fighting to keep the tears back. A single friend messaged me a few hours after I uploaded the episode and thanked me, “Nicole, that spoke right to my heart, thank you.” I found it hard to believe at first, but the words I was speaking were more than just my own, they belonged to my Father and I was His instrument. I tackled difficult topics of solitude and loneliness, my own lack of trust in times of crisis, the need to lean into His grace and I was amazed at how the Lord multiplied by five loaves and two fishes. There are times now when I don’t know whether I am saying something the right way, but I am reminded that in my honest sharing, exposing the light and dark that I experience, I witness His love for me. It’s hard to imagine now looking back, that that shy and quiet girl who had no idea what it meant to serve, is now sharing her faith testimony weekly for the world.

I invite you dear sister, to allow Him to move your heart, to keep the door open even when you may feel tempted to keep it closed out of fear of what it entails. Let His grace flood your heart and He will work wonders you never thought were possible!

Sincerely,

Nicole

Photo of Nicole

About the Writer: Nicole Law is a Singapore-based podcaster who uses new mediums to tell the stories of Christ. She is inspired to be a friendly voice to those searching and seeking the faith. She reaches out to listeners through stories and sharing on a weekly podcast on Spotify @nourishthesoul.