Wilderness

Wilderness 4: A Child's Cry

Not every mother knows what their child needs.

I grew up not expressing my thoughts or sharing anything other than my academics with my parents. Just like other children, I am one of them who's not close to their parents. So, if things are not okay, they are unaware of it. Maybe that is the reason why I became fond of writing—I can hide my feelings through words. Journaling and constantly writing in my small notebook became a hobby of mine, and it helped get rid of heavy things in my heart. It was so hard to be the only one who knew your struggle; at that moment, I didn't have anyone I could count on. I was hungry for someone's attention, for someone who would listen to me and console my broken soul, and maybe for the longest time feeling that way, God prepared the moment that my spiritual leader came and approached me. I feel like a bomb, and if someone touches the button, I will explode. Silent battles are never easy to handle, yet they are one way for us to be prepared for the future.

Jesus became my parent during the pandemic, He is the only One who knows every hurt and every shortcomings I have.

One time, I opened up to my aunt about how tiring it is to study and go home without food on the table. I was always forced to do it, not because I was hungry, but because my siblings and my body needed it for strength. I can say that I am independent; I won't ask for help, especially if I think I can still handle it. So I end up being drained all the time. My only rest is to be with Jesus, yet my parents questioned it. Imagine how you would feel if the only thing that gives you joy and rest were being questioned—that it was the one that made you tired. I couldn't stop crying that time when my aunt and I's conversation was passed on to my mother, and I saw it from a different perspective in a way that invalidated my feelings, for they couldn't understand that tiredness does not just come from physical work but mentally and spiritually too. You know what makes my tiredness worse?

Knowing my parents are in vengeance

Knowing my parents would only send financial support

Knowing I have no parents to guide me

Knowing my parents will never ask me, "Are you okay?"

Knowing that I have no choice to do all the work because I am the first child

Knowing that I never enjoyed my teenage life

Knowing that they can't accept my JESUS

That's makes me tired.

But I guess that's just what it should be. I realized that we give more meaning when we are pressed down and that our response will always be about who we are. Our parents will not always understand us; there will be moments that we will prove our point to them, but the thing is, Jesus wants us to obey them, to honor them, and to love them. Why? Because they were the instruments that God sent for us to experience life. Don't think that God made the mistake of giving you a breath; never ever think that your life right now is about to give in to the temptations of suicide because your life was redeemed for you to take hold of the provided needs and gifts from God. Your life has a lot to say, and that's all thanks to our parents. Our parents are not perfect; they are not gods, but our parents are just like us-- humans.