One day can make our life. One day can break it. Life consists of two, three or four big days that made all the difference.
I go back to the days I have spent in this planet in search of my own big day(s) that changed everything.
Is it the day I went to this big Catholic university soon after high school graduation, was handed the Lit. B. in journalism syllabus, and found out it has lined up all my favorite subjects. All reading and ‘riting and no ‘rithmetic?!
Is it meeting the one for whom I am intended, though I didn’t recognize it at first for being too good to be true? And well, it turned out to be not too good nor too true but wasn’t too bad nor too much of a lie either and which has led me to conclude I could have done worse (and don’t any one of you dare say I could have done better).
Is it the day I accepted the “invitation to apply” of this semi-academic, development organization in a sprawling campus, admired the plush, spacious reception area that would be my post, and liked the way the boss’ secretary smiled warmly up at me and said “hi,” and the way the boss said “you will be fine?”
But I guess nothing can be bigger than the day ... the dark and cold day I hit pit bottom and simply had to pick myself up or to bolt out. When I decided there was a better way to live than constantly ducking as though I always half expected to get slapped. When I knew for certain God couldn’t have meant this life to be so hurtful and dismal, for otherwise what kind of a God was He? When I decided that it was just me – hard-headed, slow-witted me -- who’s looking at life the wrong way.
And I guess that was how I began going the right direction. The road I take is circular, not vertical. But I will get there.
Buddy, you must have your big days, too. Share?