I began by confessing the big sins, the deadly sins. Then I moved on to the ‘softer’, more intangible, more devious sins. Sins that did not fit so easily into defined categories. Sins that seemed more excusable.
Halfway through sharing about my preoccupations and frustrations with work and my corresponding disappointment with God, my voice broke.
Father penanced me to do something in the week to renew my love story with God. I did not know what to do then. I still do not know what to do now.
When I met Fr D about a week later, he shared about how Jesus, lover of my soul used to be his favorite song. He spoke also of this drive of doing everything for a lover, of waking up in the morning, and living life for that one person.
At that moment, a wisp stirred in my mind. It was not even a fleeting memory, but only a memory of a memory of a previous life and lifestyle. If I try hard enough, I may be able to convince myself that I remembered and had known a little of what that felt like, that I once experienced a semblance of that in the days just after SOW.
Romance is such a fleeting creature. Three weeks ago, I had begun watching a Taiwanese drama. I willing submitted to such addiction and indulgence for the causa causans of improving my Chinese~. It is a sappy rom-com titled 就是要你爱上我. I was a sappy mess until I had burnt the 21 x 90 min of my life away on it. But in time – already the memories and the sentimentalities are becoming hazier – I will wonder how I even found the leads idolistic.
And yet romance is a creature that is alive and enlivening. For all its transience and its transilience, it’s power to move and to inspire is beyond reason. That counts. That really does.
“I miss us,” my friend said to God. I echo that. I look at people like Suor Christina and I am moved. Here is someone who is living, in fullness and in romance. Here is someone in love.
“I have a gift and I am giving it to you. Shouldn’t things be this way?” Suor Christina flawlessly declares. What a life. What a love. What a vocation.
Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair.
– G. K. Chesterton