Call to serve
Hell yes, I'm scared.
A little part of me fears it will probably happen someday. But I've always sought solace thinking that it was very far off, or that there was a chance that the time would never come at all.
Sometimes, Esteban's desire of going on a mission becomes more than just a surreal dream. Sometimes it concretizes. I'll be floating ignorantly, accustomed to always having him there, and all of a sudden, the word "mission" comes and that yanks me down to Earth, hard.
I'm too horrified to allow the thought "I don't want him to go" to dwell in my mind too long. How dare I? Deny him the enriching, life-changing experience of going off, far far away, and serve the Lord? Oppose the word of God to be spread? The possibilities of other lives being touched by his?
How dare I?
...It's not like he's never coming back. I mean, it's only two years, right?
Two years.
Two years without his voice, without his laughter, without his music.
Two years without the warmth that melts away everything that is ugly in the world.
Two years without the only person on this Earth who's seen the vile things that poison me, and yet he has forgiven and forgiven time and time again.
Two years without the only person on this Earth who could make me believe that not all hope is lost, that there is still love in the world and human beings capable of acting upon it.
Two years without the only person I could wake up at 3 in the morning to complain that I can't sleep because I'm angry at my father, or worried about my debts, or scared of the dark.
If he leaves... what about when he returns?
Will he arrive, radiating with wisdom his experience bestowed? How will the world look like from his point of view? How will I look like? Will he still love the stumbling, temperamental, silly girl?
How will those two years of loneliness have changed me?
Just two years.
I know I can live without him.
I just don't want to.
Please, God, don't ask me to do this...
A little part of me fears it will probably happen someday. But I've always sought solace thinking that it was very far off, or that there was a chance that the time would never come at all.
Sometimes, Esteban's desire of going on a mission becomes more than just a surreal dream. Sometimes it concretizes. I'll be floating ignorantly, accustomed to always having him there, and all of a sudden, the word "mission" comes and that yanks me down to Earth, hard.
I'm too horrified to allow the thought "I don't want him to go" to dwell in my mind too long. How dare I? Deny him the enriching, life-changing experience of going off, far far away, and serve the Lord? Oppose the word of God to be spread? The possibilities of other lives being touched by his?
How dare I?
...It's not like he's never coming back. I mean, it's only two years, right?
Two years.
Two years without his voice, without his laughter, without his music.
Two years without the warmth that melts away everything that is ugly in the world.
Two years without the only person on this Earth who's seen the vile things that poison me, and yet he has forgiven and forgiven time and time again.
Two years without the only person on this Earth who could make me believe that not all hope is lost, that there is still love in the world and human beings capable of acting upon it.
Two years without the only person I could wake up at 3 in the morning to complain that I can't sleep because I'm angry at my father, or worried about my debts, or scared of the dark.
If he leaves... what about when he returns?
Will he arrive, radiating with wisdom his experience bestowed? How will the world look like from his point of view? How will I look like? Will he still love the stumbling, temperamental, silly girl?
How will those two years of loneliness have changed me?
Just two years.
I know I can live without him.
I just don't want to.
Please, God, don't ask me to do this...


