Then something happened, the most hurting experience I have ever had in my life. What made it worse was I was alone to do the battle. Had it been something ordinary like an illness or a death in the family, I would have certainly received the comfort and assistance of a lot of people. Instead it was something that I could not even share with anybody out of fear that I would be misunderstood and condemned.
So I went through my days pretending that everything was okay. In fact, it seemed like nobody even noticed anything different. Except for a few. And when I say few they were really so few I can count them in one hand. Yet even to them, I cannot say anything. How can I say anything when I cannot even figure out what was happening in my life?
My situation continued for a few more months.
Then somehow I found a person to whom I could confide. I know that it was not by chance that this person has entered my life. She was God-sent. She seemed to remind me with her presence and her patience that although my pain was very real, my place was not there "with the pigs". But she did stay with me even as I continued to stay in that uncomfortable place. I knew that was not my place but I just felt so powerless to leave.
And so I stayed there for over a year: knowing in my head what I had to do, yet too powerless to do it. Sleepless nights were a common occurrence. Crying too, for no reason at all. My prayers became more frequent but only because I had to hold on to something or I will break. God became so true to me because of desperation. Yes, I had all the signs of depression.
Then somehow, this is the miracle, one day I just woke up with a feeling that that day was going to be the start of a new phase in my life.
I cannot explain it, but it did happen. My situation remained the same but somehow, each morning I woke up there was a little bit more hope and enthusiasm, and, little by little, I found my smile back.
I am now in a good place. I live every day with gratitude and trust. It is true what Pope Benedict XVI said, "If only everyone could experience the joy of being Christian, being loved by God who gave his Son for us!". Yes, even when we go back to God for all the wrong reasons, somehow like the prodigal son's father, they don't matter to him. What matters is we're back. He brings out the best robe and clothes; restores our dignity and organizes a feast for us.
Believing in the love of God hasn't exempted me from suffering and from doubts. But they no longer frighten me. I know that I am not alone. I am beloved. My God and I are one.
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