Of Faith and Fear
I was worried. It was already 6:45 in the morning and I am going to be late for work for the third time this week.
And we only had four days of work because of Memorial Day.
I checked the digital clock on my phone.
"I can still make it." I muttered to myself.
I turned around, hurried my steps, and brisk walked towards our house.
I buzzed twice before our gate was opened. I was already sweating like a pig. Walking my way across the garage, across the living room, and finally across the dining room, there atop the refrigerator was the one thing I left - a Lady of Manaoag bracelet.
Faith and I had always been more of acquaintances than opposed to having a strong tie. True I went to a Catholic school in my primary years but even with all the catechism, religion, and Catholic celebrations provided by the school, it did not really catch up to me.
First Friday masses would always be an hour for me and my classmates to eat Gobstoppers, Runts, or Nerds in the church and prayer time with the rosary would mean more yawns than the mysteries.
Although it has not been like these formerly. I too had a time of a strong connection, a bond to faith and religion. Where every Sunday means hearing a mass and drop by every time I go to the gym or just outside our subdivision for a quick stroll in a mall or anywhere nearby. But that has long since diminished from my routine.
Now I don't even go to mass but I do drop by the church only for a 5-minute prayer. To give thanks.
I have long questioned my faith and how I was not really inclined to it. Where moments of sadness and near hopelessness means just crying at night and comforting myself without the question of 'Where are you when I need you the most?'
And yet I still do believe in him although in a very unconventional way. It is inexplicable. No images, no lights emanating, no resurrections.
As I walked out of our house I strapped it onto my left wrist. I circled my right point finger along the contour of the bracelet and wrist, stretched it a little and snapped back onto my wrist. I gave out a weak smile.
I still believe. That is just it.
Finally catching my breath, I got in the jeepney where people were waiting for it to accelerate.
And we only had four days of work because of Memorial Day.
I checked the digital clock on my phone.
"I can still make it." I muttered to myself.
I turned around, hurried my steps, and brisk walked towards our house.
I buzzed twice before our gate was opened. I was already sweating like a pig. Walking my way across the garage, across the living room, and finally across the dining room, there atop the refrigerator was the one thing I left - a Lady of Manaoag bracelet.
Faith and I had always been more of acquaintances than opposed to having a strong tie. True I went to a Catholic school in my primary years but even with all the catechism, religion, and Catholic celebrations provided by the school, it did not really catch up to me.
First Friday masses would always be an hour for me and my classmates to eat Gobstoppers, Runts, or Nerds in the church and prayer time with the rosary would mean more yawns than the mysteries.
Although it has not been like these formerly. I too had a time of a strong connection, a bond to faith and religion. Where every Sunday means hearing a mass and drop by every time I go to the gym or just outside our subdivision for a quick stroll in a mall or anywhere nearby. But that has long since diminished from my routine.
Now I don't even go to mass but I do drop by the church only for a 5-minute prayer. To give thanks.
I have long questioned my faith and how I was not really inclined to it. Where moments of sadness and near hopelessness means just crying at night and comforting myself without the question of 'Where are you when I need you the most?'
And yet I still do believe in him although in a very unconventional way. It is inexplicable. No images, no lights emanating, no resurrections.
As I walked out of our house I strapped it onto my left wrist. I circled my right point finger along the contour of the bracelet and wrist, stretched it a little and snapped back onto my wrist. I gave out a weak smile.
I still believe. That is just it.
Finally catching my breath, I got in the jeepney where people were waiting for it to accelerate.
better than those who only remember when lost.
ReplyDeleteas long as you believe in something and fear something. most importantly is you know the difference between good and evil. though most of the times i disagree on what the church's teaching these days but i focus more to Him.
ReplyDeleteG, thanks ulit. i hope you read my reply in my blog. ingat palagi.
I love this memoir. Poignant and crisp.
ReplyDeleteAt the end of the day it is not about religion, it is about relationship, your own personal relationship with Him. Keep the faith and the relationship, no matter how sh*tty life gets.
ReplyDelete