God stretches, God teaches

clip_image001“The most important experiences a man can have are those that take him to the very limit; that is the only way we learn, because it requires all our courage.”

- Eleven Minutes (Paulo Coelho)

The only major trial I have had for the past years of my life had come so stealthily; it left me shattered, devastated. The once close-to-perfect divine partnership had come to an end abruptly, and nothing else could be worse than experiencing it during the Christmas season. For once, Christmas had lost its meaning.

Rising from that sudden tragedy seemed impossible. Queries were thrown, some remain unanswered. I had him minutes ago; I unexpectedly lost him without any clue. Giving your heart and soul to someone so special is indeed a risk, and I did risk everything, including my happiness.

It was at this point when I prayed to God so desperately, begging for answers, inducing miracles, and pleading for rescue when the pain bore deep in my heart. Weeping was part of it. I was in a terrible emotional storm.

In the midst of my grief, friends and family came. But the real score I had only divulged to my sweet parents. They backed me up and showered me with love that I felt so strongly at that trying time. It was then when I discovered that the best advice comes from the wisdom of your very own parents. That fateful night of my weeping was the same night when Mom and Dad sat beside me in my room, giving me their full attention, love, and care. It was a turning point.

Papang came too (my biological father), and after we talked (‘till midnight) I was more at peace than ever. My true healing had begun.

Then I stumbled into Paulo Coelho’s blog. Most of his works seemed to be pointed at me. I carefully read each piece, and found solace in this line:

“The most important experiences a man can have are those that take him to the very limit; that is the only way we learn, because it requires all our courage.”

Very true. I saw myself imagining one day in my past, thinking of a major trial that our relationship had been through, and I somehow wished for it. True enough, it came (I wished for it, remember?) But then, it didn’t just happen. Rather, it pushed me to my limits. The night of weeping, when I was almost fainting due to unbearable pain, was my limit. I knew it then. I knew that I wouldn’t be crying anymore, because I have cried more than enough. And the only word that entered my mind was “courage”. I rose, thanked my parents, and for the first time since it happened (after a week), I had eaten well.

I wouldn’t have known how strong I am if not for this. It wasn’t physical pain that could be eased by a pain reliever. This pain was rooted in the deepest part of my heart, the heart that had known that there could be no other love as beautiful as his. But I’ve surpassed it, and I am squarely facing reality.

Is this destiny? Has fate intervened? Am I just being tested as to how strong I can be, preparing me for bigger roles and responsibilities in the future that require a mega dose of courage? The time is still young, and I am no longer in a hurry to comprehend things that seem blurry at the moment.

I let go, and I let God.

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