I have to stop letting a moment or two define who I am and what I can do.
The past few days have been trying, to say the least. The list of my failures could go on for days and still, I would find moments when I let down either myself, my friends, my parents, others, or sometimes all of the above. I had desperately wanted to give up last week because I’ve never felt so low in a long time. I was doing poorly in my academics (even that one subject I’d always thought I’d ace didn’t let me off the hook) and my relationships were rocky at best. For all intents and purposes, I was lost.
In hindsight though, I want to berate myself for being neurotic –worrying over things that were out of my control. Honestly, it is incredibly tiring when you stress over everything –from what to wear, to your weight, to other people’s expectations, to their thoughts, to academics, to extra-curricular activities, back to academics, and essentially anything that I deem to be something. But believe it or not, going to Sunday mass last night was an epiphany of sorts for me. And that is what I’ll be blogging about.
“Dad, I don’t know what to do with my life.” That was the bomb I dropped on my father’s lap right before mass started yesterday evening. The exact reasons as to why I decided on such declaration still elude me but I can guess that it’s along the lines of: I’m scared that I’m twenty and I haven’t done anything with my life, or I’m worried that my future is so unclear at the moment because I’m not doing anything worthwhile, or maybe even I’m terrified that what I’m currently doing is not what I should be doing and I’m only helping myself get lost in the world even more. Valid reasons? Hmm, to some extent yes. I don’t think I’ll ever forget my father’s face when I told him –it was a cross between a look of exasperation and that of pity. (I don’t blame him though, my father knows how neurotic and extremely anxious I can get over little things.)
I blanched. But before I could even put in a comment and explain myself, mass started and before long I’d forgotten what I said and why I said it. Then came the Gospel and I freaked. But who wouldn’t when it went like this?
‘That is why I am telling you not to worry about your life and what you are to eat, nor about your body and what you are to wear. Surely life is more than food, and the body more than clothing! … Can any of you, however much you worry, add one single cubit to your span of life? So do not worry; do not say, “What are we to eat? What are we to drink? What are we to wear?” It is the gentiles who set their hearts on all these things. Your heavenly Father knows you need them all. Set your hearts on his kingdom first, and on God’s saving justice, and all these other things will be given you as well.
And here’s the passage that made me believe that there really is a God who listens and who answers:
So do not worry about tomorrow: tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Yesterday shook me to the core. That was God basically telling me to stop worrying because He is there and he will take care of things. That was God telling me to stop living for the days that are yet to come, but to live for the present –the now. I understand that not all of us believe but last night was undeniably a work of a higher power. It might have been a coincidence, but it sure did have perfect timing.
I made a promise to myself afterwards. I’ve definitely got to stop being neurotic, begin living in the moment, stop holding on to things I have no control of, and start exercising control over those that I can.
Start living for the small things, indeed.