Friday, April 10, 2015

Storyteller


It's been a year (and two months) since I was first appointed as the secretary of the Parish Pastoral Council. I admit that I'm still as nervous as I was before I was assigned to that position. The secretary is a part of the backbone of the council and most details of events are coordinated to me. Being the secretary continues to test my sense of responsibility, and, at very rare times, my patience and fortitude. I always tell my friends that my Saturdays are reserved for the church because I try my utmost best to attend all of the meetings... because I know how important it is that I have to be there.

Of course, even though I try my best, there are times when I fall short from grace. I can call it an unlucky choice of day or whatever, but people who know me so well will know that there is nothing I prioritize higher than my service at church. On days when I'm not able to attend a meeting because of an affair such as a family member's birthday, half of my heart goes to the meeting and the other goes to the party.

And there are moments when I feel like I'm unable to fulfill my tasks because of my own spirit, because let's face it: there are days when we feel so very far from the Lord. I'm at this phase where I feel like I've run away so far from God's grace, and this fear prickles my heart to no end. To be honest, it haunts me to this very day.

The Lord doesn't deserve a half-hearted servant. His kindness should be matched with an equal obedience to His will. I don't want to be a half-hearted princess in her Father's court; it's either I am His or not at all.

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