“Sometimes, things happen because we make them happen. And sometimes, things happen because they are meant to lead you where you’re supposed to be in that exact time and moment–because that is exactly where you need to be.”
I was raised a Catholic. I went to Catholic schools from grade school to college. In my high school years, I happened to often be assigned to be the commentator for mass celebrations. I am not sure if that’s what you call that role but I basically led the people in their responses and I instructed them when to stand, sit or kneel. When I wasn’t doing that, I was in the choir.
However, what most people did not know was how detached I felt every time I was doing it. Okay, maybe not the part when I sang with the choir because I liked singing even if I was far from being an awesome singer. Still, going to mass was something I didn’t voluntarily do. Growing up, most of my mass attendance were because of the first Friday mass celebrations in school. The rest were for special occasions that called for a thanksgiving mass or something of that sort. It felt mandatory.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe in God, I pray (mostly in my head) and I base most of my decisions to what I grew up thinking was right. But, I didn’t feel like I fit in. Because of that, I would feel ashamed when asked if I went to church on Sundays and I would say I don’t. I would feel like I am this delinquent child of God who would rather spend time at home than go to His house.
But lately, I’ve been feeling that I should do something about my faith. I just do not know whether I should be doing less of something or more of something. I do not know where to start. Granted that I’ve always relied on God and Jesus through everything I had to go through, I felt a compelling need to know or discover more than what I grew up with.
Last Sunday, I went to a Christian church service where my third cousin was serving as the pastor. I have never heard him speak about faith until that day. The last time I saw him was eighteen years ago when we had this huge family reunion and I don’t even think he knows about my existence at all (although he was my Facebook friend in my old account that I recently deleted). All I knew was that if I was going to a Christian church service, he had to be the pastor on that day. So, I braved myself to send him a Facebook message and prayed to God for him to notice that message and reply to it because, yeah, Messenger has a separate storage for messages from non-FB friends. By God’s grace, he replied and I made it a goal to see how he leads a service for myself.
Their whole service was so much different from the Catholic mass celebrations I grew up knowing. But for some reason, I didn’t once feel like an intruder or asking myself what the heck I was doing there. I felt like I was supposed to be there and that recent events were all leading to that day when I would find myself there. My cousin was so awesome in his sermon. I was not bored at all and there were parts of his sermons that were not even his major points but managed to hit me close to home.
I left the assembly place feeling as if a bunch of questions I had suddenly had an answer. Although, more questions also came up but figuring out their answers will be for another time. It was a wonder how one church service could make me realize so much about myself and my fears.
I’m going back this coming Sunday to see if it still feels the same. I want to see where this will lead me. Whether I will convert or not remains to be seen. I want to grow spiritually and I shall do what I have to do in order to achieve that. All I know is that at this moment, what I still hold most important is that no matter what we believe in, what is important is that we treat each other with love.