I wonder about the people in my life Lately

In between solitude

Faith isn't for the weak; maybe that's why I get it more than most. There are times I believe God is just folklore dressed in different names and outfits. And honestly, I have no clue how I ended up here- questioning everything.

As a kid, there were only two things you needed to know: good and bad, angels and demons. simple right? That was it. But as you grow up-at least, for me-you start seeing there's a whole lot of gray in between. Heroes get boring because they never have tough lives; they're these perfect, flawless winners. That's why we end up relating to villains- they're flawed, just like us.

And then you start to wonder, Maybe all this is happening because there's some supreme being up there testing us, messing with us.I mean, if He's really out there, wouldn't he want to have little fun too, No one just stays around in heaven binge-watching our drama for free.

Life has this funny way of introducing you to different part of yourself especially when you're walking different paths in life. When anxiety hits,it feels like your heart is trying to remind you that you're still alive- beating so hard you might just burst. When you're depressed, it's like you're tied down, imprisoned, unable to move or even see a glimmer of your life. It's dark, and you can't escape. Having both is like seeing a light you can't touch, a constant reminder of what you don't have. On the rare days when they decided to leave me alone, I find myself looking for some kind of hope or comfort. And for me, that's the church.

So, one of those days, I decided to go to church-maybe not wrong place but definetley wrong time, naturally. I wasn't even sure if I went there to accuse God (like people did to Jesus) or to beg for hope. I was definitely not in my right mind. And who do I bump into? Father Matthews. He's been at that church since before I was born(how do I know? He reminded me my christening with every story everytime we meet). You could say I grew up with him. He's nice, really-one of those 'spiritual guides' you read about. Doesn't talk much, though-wrong profession, if you ask me-but when he does, it's always for comfort.

Father Matthews retired a few years ago, and now there is new priest who's more...let's say entertaining. I call him Father Kicker for reasons that aren't important right now . Anyway, back then, I was alone in the church, lost on my thoughts that were filled with anger and frustrations,when Father Matthews noticed me. Great, just what I needed-company when I wanted to be left alone.

He approached me with that serene aura, starting off with, 'How have you been, my child?' You know, the usual. I snapped back, 'I'm fine, Father, thanks for asking,' but clearly, I wasn't fine. He saw right through it, took his time, and sat next to me. Then he pulled out the classic line: 'You know, God always makes it harder to test us. Good things will come; just have faith."

If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that... Well, before I knew it, I was standing there, ranting-words just pouring out like i was delivering some tragic mologue in a one man show that nobody asks for. It was like an out-of-body experience, and let me tell you, not my finest moment in front of a priest. And if i say so, not a good way to exist for someone who beleieve in possession. By the time I snapped out of it, I was so embarrassed I couldn't get out of there fast enough. He just stood there, stunned, like I'd grown a second head. That was months ago, and I haven't set foot in that church since.

Recently, I had a job interview, and afterward, I thought, 'Why not go thank God-or, you know, repent for my past sins or the ones I'm about to commit?' maybe in hope meeting I would run in to him decided to see him again-Father Matthews-to explain myself or at least apologize.

As I sat there trying to figure out how to pray (it's harder than you'd think), this lady in front of me finished her prayer. She stood up, paused as if she was trying to take a mental snapshot, and then walked past me, saying, 'Good day, honey.'

'Good day to you too,' I replied, sounding as distant as my enthusiasm for life.

Then, as if summoned by some cosmic coincidence, Father Matthews appeared, walking down the aisle. I guess he enjoys being alone too-didn't think anyone would be there, least of all me. My heart did that weird flutter thing, recalling my last performance, but there he was, making his way over. I stood up, trying to look respectful, and he waved me to sit down.

'How have you been, my child?' he asked, same tone, same Father Matthews.

'I'm fine, Father,' I said, but suddenly, the words tumbled out. I blurted out every mistake, regret, and apology I had, like I was auditioning for a drama series.

He chuckled-yes, chuckled-and said, 'I don't even remember that.' Apparently, getting old has its perks. 'If only we could forget when we're young,' he added, with that knowing smile.

'So, how are things?' he asked.

'Not bad, I guess,' I muttered. I mean, it's the standard response, right?

'Good,' he nodded. 'That means they'll get better.' There was this pause, you know, the kind that makes you feel like you're supposed to say something profound but all you have is, 'Uh, thanks?'

He then said, 'You know, life's full of tests. Good, bad, they all come. We might never understand why things happen to us, but we pray for the courage to face them, even when we fall. So, we stand our ground until our day comes. Every seed has to be tested before it becomes the fruit we eat. Stay strong, and when you need me, I'll be here-until my deathbed, that is.'

'Okay,' I replied.

'Good. And give my regards to your mother,' he said, smiling as if he'd just solved my life crisis.

And that was it-my epiphany wrapped up in a one-liner. Some words are whispered in shadows, others breathed into the light by a priest, a stranger who feels closer than kin.

Father Matthews, with his quiet wisdom, felt more like home than anyone else in my life lately. He's not just a stranger; he's a guidepost, one of those rare souls who seem to understand you without needing the whole story. In his eyes, there was no judgment, just an understanding that life's burdens can be heavy and that sometimes, all we need is someone to share them with.

In his presence, I confide the weight of my ups and downs, finding solace in his understanding. It's a curious dance of life-the overwhelm, the shared struggles, the sacred bond. You hear, you forget, you unhear, and in that quiet, you listen for what makes your heart feel less alone.

And maybe, just maybe, those are the kind of people I need-the ones who offer solace without asking for anything in return.