“Halte Durch”, I hear him say to me. “Es ist noch nicht deine Zeit”, my father adds in whispers as I am moved to tears and on my knees in just a few moments before I decided to hit the write button.
See, people think that I don’t believe in a god. Truth be told, I do believe in a God, in a creator of all around us – of the universe at large. I believe in a higher being that manifests itself from time to time into our lives. A lot seem to mistake my disobedience towards the religious norms as me being an atheist. For the better half of my life, I think you could say that I am agnostic instead.
Tonight was a humbling experience for me. It was just like the previous couple of nights where I struggled for air on occasion and often be left consciously reminding myself to breathe. My chest flared up at times and I can’t help but describe it like little spikes poking at my lungs when I head to bed. See, I am not sure if I have the virus at all or if there’s some other underlying medical (or psychological or emotional) reason behind this. Nonetheless, tonight was a humbling affair for me.
Two weeks ago, I attended mass for the first time since the death of my father. I vaguely remember a few strings from the mass where it felt like I’ve been called home. Not to head up there, of course not… but to start believing again.
I want to say that I have a rather unique relationship with my Creator. I wouldn’t categorize him as being only there for Christians or Muslims… I’d poke that question, occasionally, believe me. All I get back is that he’s there for all.
So, anyways… There I was, on my knees and calling out to Him. Asking for repentance for my sins and a chance to continue being the steward of my daughter in her journey of growing up. Of course, we all might have said this at some point, that we’ll change our ways, that we’ll be better this time around but in my humble estate, I could feel my soul meaning every little word.
And then it dawned on me. The tiny, encouraging voice of my dad saying: It’s not yet your time. Hang on.
I want to believe that I make it. I want to think that what I am feeling is nothing but a fluke and paranoia. But I’m not giving this disease – or whatever it is – any chances.
Be humble about where you are in life now. Admit to your faults. Submit to becoming a better person. Most importantly, mean every word that you say.
You don’t need to be religious to be heard. There’s no filter on whatever religion it is that you are accustomed to. Your soul just needs to believe.
Come what may, I believe.
Now, I know this is some low quality audio file… but I couldn’t find a copy of this song anywhere else. Kindly enjoy the song below: