(In this short reflective piece, Fr. John Mi Shen, who took over as Programme Director of Radio Veritas Asia at a time when many uncertainties surrounded the mission, reflects on his experience over the past year. He affirms that the best form of communication, most of the time, is to remain silent: “Be still and know that I am God” (Ps 46:10). Even when he had legitimate reasons to walk away, he chose to remain. Not because it was easy, but because he came to realize that presence is the most demanding form of love. It is a choice that calls for patience, fidelity, and quiet courage. As we enter the new year, this is something that we all could try and do: being present to God, to one another, and to life as it unfolds. - Editor)
As I look back on 2025, I realize that it was not a year of noise, but of weight. Not a year of sudden breakthroughs, but of steady carrying. Much of the year unfolded in responsibility rather than choice. The appointment to serve the Church at a wider level came not as an ambition fulfilled, but as a trust received. With it came expectations, limitations, tensions, and the slow realization that leadership often means standing in between, between hope and reality, vision and constraint, people’s needs and institutional boundaries.
There were days when communication felt less like expression and more like endurance: letters written carefully, decisions delayed prudently, silence chosen over reaction. I learned again that pastoral communication is not about having the right words, but about remaining present when words are insufficient.
This year revealed how fragile systems can be, and how strong people often are. Financial uncertainty, administrative strain, and human disappointment surfaced repeatedly. Yet, in the midst of these, I encountered generosity, patience, and quiet fidelity, often from those who had little reason to offer them. I saw how much leadership depends not on authority, but on trust, and how easily that trust is strained when presence is lost.
Teaching and mentoring remained places of consolation. In classrooms, thesis drafts, and conversations with young people, I was reminded why I first loved communication, not as technology or strategy, but as an encounter. Their questions forced me to think again. Their struggles kept my theology grounded. Their hope quietly renewed my own.
Spiritually, this year stripped away certain illusions. I became more aware of my limits, of energy, time, and clarity. Prayer was not always fervent, but it was honest. Often it was simply staying before God without solutions, learning again that fruitfulness does not always look like success.
Family life and simple human moments anchored me. Small conversations, ordinary concerns, listening without fixing, these became reminders that vocation is lived not only in mission statements, but in daily attentiveness. Presence, I learned, is the most demanding form of love.
If I were to name one grace of 2025, it would be this: I did not walk away. I stayed, with the questions, with the tension, with the people entrusted to me. And perhaps that is enough for now.
I enter the coming year not with certainty, but with deeper humility. Not with grand plans, but with a quieter resolve: to listen more carefully, to speak more truthfully, to lead more gently, and to trust that God continues to work even when progress feels invisible.
Lord, if this year has taught me anything, it is that You are present not only in clarity, but also in perseverance.
