2005-03-30
Dios Mio
Dear God:
It was a humid summer when I stopped believing in you. For you, I'd dress in all white and make my knees go red every night, kneeling down praying, hands gripped together, and eyes shut tightly, hoping for you to listen. When I was seven--and sometimes now--I imagine you with a white beard when you're content, and as an invisible film of smoke when you're disappointed.
It is my tendency to sometimes disappoint at this clumsy age of 19, but, so far, you've not disappointed me. My parents don't disappoint me.
I had stopped believing in you completely and by winter it was all sealed, and I thought that I had done something extraordinary and bold. My heart beat numerous times and I scolded you for several things, though I should not scold at anyone, and it somehow released the discomfort within my own heart.
I promised you that I would remain a virgin...just for you, and until you brought the boy you'd chosen as my life-partner, into my life. But I tend to wonder if you have already done that--it doesn't matter that I sealed a pact at a time some consider early, it was genuine...and you perhaps understand that. We've probably been at that level of mutual understanding since that hot morning in June, when I sat at St.-Augustine's Church and listened to the priest tell me that marriages are already made in heaven, with just your blessing.
Dios mio, I wonder what to do now, because sometimes I want to pick up my rosary...but deep down, I know you'd still listen to me without it.
On a rainy night, when I was six, I prayed to you again, and asked that you send an angel to protect me. I believed it would happen. But why me? I do wonder...when there are others in need? I do think you sent two angels.
And now I pray that you send one to guide and protect the person I love, though he can be stubborn...grant us patience.