To God we give thanks
As a child, my parents held my hand, literally and figuratively, towards the righteous path. I wouldn’t know any other way, right? Everything fit into a pattern that hardly raised any quiver of doubt.
When I grew up, what I believed and stood for was challenged. Different customs and beliefs offered seemingly logical alternatives that were better than my faith. Many tests came in dribs and drabs.
In school, for example, we were taught never to yield to the lure of the flesh. That’s easy to say when burgeoning hormones were jumping in droves arousing our curiosity and drive. “Take the lead in keeping the boy you love chaste.”
How? I held on to my rosary and kept Mary like my chaperon. And, voila! The friendship stayed wholesome, a matter of sound reasoning overruling feelings.
At work, more tests arose. Should I plot, scheme and conspire for fame and fortune? A gentle voice remarked, “And conquer the world at the expense of your soul?” I opted to work diligently, guarding the truth with courage.
The tests further escalated when I settled down. Why? I had this mammoth task of nurturing young minds who will either draw inspiration from me or horrors! Brand me as the hardest/baddest lesson they’ve ever encountered in their lives.
Who do I run to?
I run on my knees.
To our Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, while whispering to Mary, my guardian angel and the blessed phalanx of saints, “Pray for me, pray with me.”
My faith has untiringly fed me with graces and blessings so that this life, as I know it, will someday culminate in one devoid of dark shadows, pain and tears. Over pitfalls and costly mistakes, our God sees beyond my weak and falling self.
Such is His love.
Thank God, I am not alone. Neither should anyone be.