On Your Sleeves Or In Your Heart
An essay I submitted to our official school organ, Blue Heights. It dabbles on my take in my religion, but it gradually opens up to an epiphany of some sort...
I suck at summaries. :( Read if interested.
On Your Sleeves Or In Your Heart
With matters pertaining to the existence of a Higher Being, religion has always been a sensitive subject for me. I couldn’t bear to see or hear single-minded individuals of different sects or beliefs verbally battle out their takes on faith and worship right in front of me, more so if I will be involved in the said debate.
I admit; I am not a very pious Christian. I don’t live out my faith as passionately as I should be. There’s this huge gap, mind you, between living in Christianity or simply being raised in Christianity. I sufficiently know the origins and dimensions of my faith. I try to study and understand the special kind of love that should exist between man and Creator so repeatedly discussed in my religion class; however, I’m not so convinced as to believe that I myself have fully found love in God, yet. He, instead, waits for me in the church during Sunday masses thanks to my family.
I am not an atheist; just confused, lost or somewhere along making attempts to rationalize things. More often than not, I do tend to question His existence but I can never make a clear stance about it because I clearly don’t have the knowledge or the evidence to disprove. Am I agnostic? Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. But being so accustomed with practices of faith and worship, I took God as a constant in my life-something that’s always there, but doesn’t really call you for having faith in it.
I happen to have a friend who carries religion on her sleeves. I would always see her every morning going to the school chapel. She is always so zealous and earnest in displaying her faith to others, in ways that I never was. But I never have a problem with her voicing out her beliefs to me in times that can’t be helped; she never forces them on me because she knows when to draw the line. She respects how I take God in my life, and so do I with hers.
Once upon a time, when I had no one else to turn to while brooding over bad luck and other unfortunate encounters, my feet brought me at the entrance of the chapel. As if on cue, I saw my friend praying inside, kneeling with fingers tightly clasped. Despite myself, I found myself being drawn and mesmerized by her keen devotion to God. Slowly, I realized that I was being called out to join her inside. For the first time, in such a long time, I stepped into the chapel, gave into that fleeting moment of silence and just prayed, not taking my eyes off on the man on the cross. I talked out to the big guy whatever it was that was needed to let out: my concerns, my regrets, my apologies, my gratitude, my faith.
I know there are more like me who go on about doubting the reality of their faith in the Lord. I also know that I can’t convince you to take Christianity like we ought to. But if there’s anything I learned from my friend on that day, when you find yourself wanting to have someone to just listen, you can always turn to Him and ask for guidance. Maybe not all prayers can be answered; nevertheless, there’s the comfort of having something to believe in, that there’s someone who watches over you who represents all hope in all things impossible and certainty among the unknown.
I still have a lot to learn; my journey in true love and faith has not yet ended, nor has it begun as of the moment. But by the time all my questions about God and life have been answered, I would have reserved Lord a special space in my heart.
I suck at summaries. :( Read if interested.
On Your Sleeves Or In Your Heart
With matters pertaining to the existence of a Higher Being, religion has always been a sensitive subject for me. I couldn’t bear to see or hear single-minded individuals of different sects or beliefs verbally battle out their takes on faith and worship right in front of me, more so if I will be involved in the said debate.
I admit; I am not a very pious Christian. I don’t live out my faith as passionately as I should be. There’s this huge gap, mind you, between living in Christianity or simply being raised in Christianity. I sufficiently know the origins and dimensions of my faith. I try to study and understand the special kind of love that should exist between man and Creator so repeatedly discussed in my religion class; however, I’m not so convinced as to believe that I myself have fully found love in God, yet. He, instead, waits for me in the church during Sunday masses thanks to my family.
I am not an atheist; just confused, lost or somewhere along making attempts to rationalize things. More often than not, I do tend to question His existence but I can never make a clear stance about it because I clearly don’t have the knowledge or the evidence to disprove. Am I agnostic? Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. But being so accustomed with practices of faith and worship, I took God as a constant in my life-something that’s always there, but doesn’t really call you for having faith in it.
I happen to have a friend who carries religion on her sleeves. I would always see her every morning going to the school chapel. She is always so zealous and earnest in displaying her faith to others, in ways that I never was. But I never have a problem with her voicing out her beliefs to me in times that can’t be helped; she never forces them on me because she knows when to draw the line. She respects how I take God in my life, and so do I with hers.
Once upon a time, when I had no one else to turn to while brooding over bad luck and other unfortunate encounters, my feet brought me at the entrance of the chapel. As if on cue, I saw my friend praying inside, kneeling with fingers tightly clasped. Despite myself, I found myself being drawn and mesmerized by her keen devotion to God. Slowly, I realized that I was being called out to join her inside. For the first time, in such a long time, I stepped into the chapel, gave into that fleeting moment of silence and just prayed, not taking my eyes off on the man on the cross. I talked out to the big guy whatever it was that was needed to let out: my concerns, my regrets, my apologies, my gratitude, my faith.
I know there are more like me who go on about doubting the reality of their faith in the Lord. I also know that I can’t convince you to take Christianity like we ought to. But if there’s anything I learned from my friend on that day, when you find yourself wanting to have someone to just listen, you can always turn to Him and ask for guidance. Maybe not all prayers can be answered; nevertheless, there’s the comfort of having something to believe in, that there’s someone who watches over you who represents all hope in all things impossible and certainty among the unknown.
I still have a lot to learn; my journey in true love and faith has not yet ended, nor has it begun as of the moment. But by the time all my questions about God and life have been answered, I would have reserved Lord a special space in my heart.