♥

Sunday, July 13, 2008

There should never be a hesitation to love.

"Crap," I went. My magic pencil rolled and fell and the newly replaced lead just smashed into smithereens. Checking if the comfort room floor was dirty, which it wasn't thanks to my favorite lovely smiling manang, I picked it up. Sam was doing her routine vanity run-through in front of the mirror.

It came like a stab. A cry, like the bad ones that sounded like hiccups, rose from one of the cubicles behind me. I caught Sam's eyes on the mirror, and hers reflected my horrored look.

Each breath came jaggedly. And like the stab as it came, it continued to advance deeper and deeper until I felt as miserable as if I could be smothered in tears as well. I was stunned. I couldn't think. I wanted to help, but I didn't know how to.

Sam peeked. She saw little feet. She told me so. I couldn't move.

"Do you want to call the guidance?" I heard her whisper, her softened voice thinning as it passed my thoughts and penetrated my mind. I immediately sped at the option. I almost forgot Sam following closely at heel; in fact, I couldn't recall being with her until after we had told Maam Irene and she went for the girl, and we went for our Econ quiz.

Getting there, on the way to my seat, I passed by a friend. His face was drawn horribly, his face seemed older and of many difficulties. I couldn't bear to look. I asked if he was okay, but the mandatory answer didn't do justice to the evidence.

As I sat down, I felt the Bible in my bag, poking at my side, and at my heart.

How did these people get on without the Lord? How many of these people lock themselves up and cry in secret, how many of these people try to remove themselves from the world and wish themselves away? To whom did they tell they of their pain, and who or what takes it away?

No one.

Cold crept through my skin, not by the blast of the humming airconditioning. I felt like I carried a burden that I knew did not have my name on it, but I knew was mine. It was the charge of Christ: to love.

I told a friend about it. I explained how I felt that in place of the burden of my trials, when I had been so carefree from my troubles (this was right after I reported for the dreaded Filipino), I was made to go on, carrying the suffering of the world. I relished the thought of living for Christ, for having His compassion move in me. But the pain was insufferable, eating me up inside. She stared blankly. Her confusion confused me.

"Bakit ka naman naaapektuhan, eh hindi naman ikaw yung nasasaktan?" (Why are you so affected, when you're not the one who's hurt?)

The words stoked the fire inside, moving my compassion for others to almost hate for her. What manner of people live without fear of the Lord! What emptiness, what obsolescence, to not know of love and selflessness. I knew at that moment that they never felt pain in the presence of superficial and worldly necessities, but when moved by the Spirit to trial they become consumed. I couldn't answer. I didn't dare, for fear of wrath. I turned away.

At that moment I knew I was to answer to the pain of each person around, for my knowing of love, and thus the need to share it. ♥