My evening prayer.

“I don’t know what to tell God, pa. I’m confused,” I told my dad while we were in the car the other day (nope, not the drive home where we sang along Diana Ross’ Ain’t No Mountain High Enough at the top of our lungs). “Just talk to Him. That’s the point of prayer anyway,” he calmly replied.

Dear God,

Assuming that You’re still up at this “ungodly” hour, I hope it doesn’t bother You too much to get a load of what I’ve been thinking of the past couple of weeks. I’ve been wanting to directly ask You for things I want to happen in my life. But then I realized that would be tantamount to begging for an easy way out of my worries, which is sounding pretty lame. So scrap my wish list. Here’s what I’m asking You instead.

Please teach me how to get my head out my arse so I could see You clearer in all this hullaballoo I’m in. I’m very stubborn and most of the time, if not all, I want things done my way. Teach me to accept the path You laid out for me, and tread it in accordance to how You want me to tread it — difficult as the path may seem. If loneliness is where I can find Your gift of solitude, give me more of it. If distance (in proximity and thought) between me and other people is where I can find Your gift of patience, then add more to it. If confusion is where I can find Your gift of thorough discernment, give me more things to be confused about. Give me all these things, warranted that You will never leave my side through all of it. If these are what will constantly remind me of my connection to You, then let’s do it!

P.S. I’m sorry I said arse.

Thoughts and Shadows: Loosening grip.

I will always remember you, and you will remember me, just as we will remember the evening, the rain on the windows, and all the things we’ll always have because we cannot possess them.

[ B R I D A  C O E L H O ]

I had a dream yesterday. My subconscious playing with me in a not-so-nice way. It was and felt  so real to the point that the moment I opened my eyes, I burst into tears. The dream painted a very clear picture of what I have been dreading the most. And although I have conditioned myself to the possibility of eventually losing someone I’d rather not, I wasn’t able to help myself but feel fear and sadness. The only thing that stopped my bawling was this simple reminder: that nothing of this world is fully in our hands.

It is the one universal rule I try to live up to. Nothing in this world is permanent, and it is pointless to give our all in keeping everything we can within our reach. It was a reminder that my life does not belong to me but to God and He will do as He please with it for me to see, know, and love Him better. In truth,  the rest is up to Him, and the best we mortals can do is to live our lives in ultimate appreciation for every single second we are given the chance to live it. To grab every single opportunity to see Him through the people he sends us, to know Him from the trials we go through, and love Him by giving back every bit of ourselves to Him and the people He loves. Whatever happens, I should always have a grateful heart for what He gives me and ALSO for what He rightfully takes away.

If our paths completely separate soon, remember that you are one of the lighthouses God built for me. Perfectly designed to be there in my darkest hour, feet planted on the ground, unconsciously waiting for me to eventually come your way. When I did get to where He put you, you picked me up and carried me far away from the storm wreck. Without questions or hesitations, you did. You are my lighthouse. But I have always been His and He will take me wherever He plans to put me. You were meant to play a significant role in my life. That counts for a lot.

I love you.