Tuesday, June 7, 2011

You clasp your hands, close your eyes and let your heart speaks

lasp your hands, close your eyes and let your heart speaks

One thing I could clearly remember from my childhood is that I was a prayful kid. Influenced by a religious mother, praying was the first thing she ever taught me and my two siblings. I enjoyed praying when I was a kid, it was like talking to an invisible friend and he's grantings my wishes. Then I grew up. I had problems believing in the unknown. People whom I called authorities in the field started blocking my incurable quest to know and to question things. Blind faith was something I could not reckon with. Then came college and every thing was messed up. I was no longer that prayful kid and my mother called me an heretic, worst she called me a follower of Satan just because I refused going to church.

Later in life something happened along the way. And I started praying again...enjoying my quiet time. Sometimes, I think I have been praying too hard that I have been getting immediate answers.

Except for this one thing that I’ve been praying for (a long time). It seems to bounce off heaven’s door.



* masyado ka lang bang makulit na ganoon na lamang niya pagbigyan ang kahilingan mo? O sadya ka lang malakas sa kanya?

* A close friend of mine gave birth to a baby boy yesterday morning. This is how she informed me via SMS: "Rayts, he came out na, this AM. healthy." As simple as that. This gave me a five-second smile. I got excited. Her dream of becoming a mom to a baby boy came true. We shared the same dream, mine I think is far from happening...at least not any time soon.

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