A Spark of Hope

"As a painter or writer, you have to walk even dangerous waters in order to succeed more than the others."  - Frank Hilario

Two weeks have passed and I haven't written any article yet. I missed writing, and I deeply sensed it; the circumstances were just too much for me to handle. And so I reclined on my self-imposed "busy state."

Inquisitiveness led me into the blog site of a highly-respected man, Frank Hilario. I came upon his blog on a painting genius, whom he likened to a budding writer – full of dreams and full of hopes, but nevertheless realizing his dreams and seeing them come true. Reading further acquainted me with the man behind the paintings, Paul Hilario, the son of Frank Hilario. The latter's writings were written by a genius; the former's paintings were surreal; yes, these people are real.

I talked to myself. I asked my heart. I conversed with my imaginary sage. All of them asked me how I was. I fell silent.

All three guided me into this line by Frank Hilario, excerpted from the blog I was reading a few minutes ago:
"As a painter or writer, you have to walk even dangerous waters in order to succeed more than the others."

That was it! Its message came like air rushing through my lungs, allowing me to breathe in life. "There is hope!" I told them all.

Remembering my Novena to God's Love, I thought of my enormous tower of dreams. Then I asked myself what dream was on top. Well, you might have guessed it – writing.

The teaching profession has led me into a place where laborious paper works don't really matter; it's the teaching, learning, and relearning parts that truly matter, be it in academics, value formation or relationships. However, it cannot be denied that the buried gift within me still haunts me in my waking hours. What does this mean? I cannot give my all to enhance my writing all because of a commitment I've made to the world and to the soul of each of my student.

How do I carry out what Frank Hilario has said: To walk even dangerous waters in order to succeed? I still don't know. Courage is my armor, but the force I've put into following my heart isn't that powerful. Too many circumstances, too many factors to consider; my alibis are countless.

Where do I go from here? I can faintly see my future, though I know it will be a happy one. Will I be a writer who will leave a legacy in the physical world? Will this gift remain known only to a few people? Or will my words reach more souls? Will God use me as a bridge between Him and my brethren?

There's a spark of hope! I'll hold on to it, and I'll cling unto it for dear happiness. Someday I'll be bold and strong for that one calling, for that one dream, for that one mission for which God has called me to accomplish. #