As much as possible, I try to keep a positive tone in my posts because, I intend to encourage more goodness. I believe that this world is a better place when there’s more love and compassion. But sometimes, the more you want peace, the more you want happiness, the more these two become elusive and out of reach.
I want to believe that happiness is a choice. I could be happy if I want to be, just by seeing big through little things. I don’t have a flare, I can swallow, my limbs are functional – these simple things make me happy for not all days I can experience them. But what about the days when I am immobile? What sort of blessing do I look for from above? Even worse so, what if happiness doesn’t choose me?
Please don’t get me wrong. I love God. I have faith. The person in me has a lot of beliefs, and I want to believe that I am like a kite, and God holds my string. I can go and fly wherever I want, but He still holds my string so if ever I get lost, or get caught by a tree branch, He would just pull my string to get to me. It’s just that sometimes, I can’t help but think that mine is not the only string that He holds, and as I get caught by a tree branch waiting for Him to pull me close, maybe some other kites have lost the will to fly, and begin to fall onto the ground. Of course, they need more urgent saving, right?
God has given me a lot of exams, and I passed most of them. Maybe some with flying colors. But the test that He just gave me is something that I can’t quite overcome, no matter how many remedial exams and retake He gives me.
The test on resentment and weakness.
I would argue that bitterness is different from enrangement over a bruised pride, and as much as I fight the urge, I can’t help but get even in my own way when I get hurt. I know it’s bad, and maybe I never got used to things go any other way but mine. I never felt as dejected as ever, as I feel right at this moment – the world seemed to turn its back on me as I cry for it, because I made it turn away from me in the first place. I can’t help it. It had gone cruel and I realized that I am still broken in pieces just when I thought I was already mended. I feel resentful because I suffer in pain as the world enjoys its beautiful perks, and I feel so weak for letting it hurt me so much.
Going back to the kite as me, now I wait for my string to be tugged. Because, I am praying, admitting to God that I no longer know what to do about this test that He just gave me. I don’t know how to accept, I don’t know how to deal and I have no idea how to move forward. I refuse to believe that God doesn’t hear me, so maybe I am the one who couldn’t hear Him. Or is it because I am full of anxiety? Or maybe hatred? But I am already praying that all these bad feelings I have would eventually go away. Oh, please, Lord. Don’t make wait too long. Help me.