My Christian Life has been “pleasurable pain” (I will explain what that
refers to in detail later). I was born on June 9, 1984. I was blessed to be in a
family of Christian. Therefore, I was destined to become a true follower of
Christ. I was baptized on August 12 of that year at St. Rose De Lima. Most
people say that from the moment I was blessed, I became a disciple of Jesus, a
light bearer, but I believe I was a disciple for my Lord and Savior the moment I
was born. I was conceived into a Christian family with a strong Christian
background. I thank the Lord to this day for blessing me as He did.
As it
was when I was born and still to this day, I was brought to Church every Sunday.
As an infant and a child, I did not understand the true meaning of this. I
thought it was just a day I was force to wear “uncomfortable” clothes and told
to be quite (even though I rarely did). I was like most other children, as are
some teenagers, I did not want to go to Church. I would run, play sick or try to
do anything I could to not attend Church. For this misunderstanding, I only can
credit that to my ignorance of my faith. If you were not dying in my house you
was presumed to go to Church even if you was not apart on our family. I remember
one instance when I slept by a friend’s house and his family, unfortunately, was
not a regular participant in Church (I think I knew this). My mother came and
picked me up that morning to go to Church. I remember this moment in my life
because it showed how strong my family was and will always be in Faith.
As
me being a Christian, I was taught in a Catholic School. I attended St. Leo the
Great Elementary. There, I learned a broad description of my faith and why my
faith entitled me to do and act a certain way. I receive my Holy Communion when
I was in First Grade I believe. Even then, I did not really understand the true
concept of what I embarked on. For this reason, I “kind of” go against receiving
certain sacraments at a young age. Age is a vital part in the strength of our
beliefs (a younger person may be weaker than an older one). How many young
Christians “really” understand what they are doing or even saying? If a person
does not understand what they are taking apart of, then why should they be
included. Today, a person is read their rights and asked at the end, do you
understand all of things that were being said. I believe that a person’s faith
is more important than their rights as many other believers do. So if this
belief is true and real, than why should we not consider this belief?
As my
faith grew, I also grew in reason and age. I began to understand and really
listen to what I was saying and hearing. I began to slowly recite my prayers and
get a true concept of what they meant. As I move on in age I began to feel left
out in Church. So I participated in the choir. This decision was one of or the
most spiritual movement I could ever had done. I had a close relationship with
music, as I do now. I participated in my elementary schools’ band. The interest
in music was evident. When I join the choir, I felt lifted. I felt I was truly
contributing to the mass and giving praise to our lord. I loved to go to choir
practice. I could not sing that well but I could give my devotion and heart to
the lord. I think at that age I developed an opinion what most black people
develop about church music, which is a need to feel moved or lifted. I am not
criticizing people who can listen to bells and chanting like music but me,
personally, I need to hear a song that I can relate to. A song that understands
my cry and heals it; a song that gives me the strength to go on in this cruel
world. I loved to see the expressions on people’s face while I sang. I
understood that they were hurting spiritually and felt healed once they heard a
young youth choir express their love for the Savior. Once I left St. Leo, I
never joined another choir. I do miss the feeling I received when I sang. I
think I get the same pleasure when I play my horn. I receive the same gratitude
from people when I play.
Later in life I then became a young “Purple
Knight.” I was in 8th grade when I came to St. Augustine High School. This step
from elementary to high school was a big one in my faith. I was encountered with
all types of people with all types of backgrounds and all different faiths. This
became a challenge to me. I would hear how other people would talk about their
beliefs and how they would come to criticize mine. This is why I am glad that I
made my confirmation in 8th grade. I think who ever decides on the time a
catholic receives a certain sacrament could not be any more perfect than it is
now. Confirmation is a sacrament when you confirm your belief and declare it
proudly because you understand it. Being a new person in a new environment is
not easy. Confirmation easies that stage of doubt and helps you reassure your
faith. When I was making my confirmation I had to do it at my closest parish,
which was St. Leo the Great. I attended classes on Sunday after mass. I learned
a lot about my faith and what it truly means to be a “die hard” Christian. The
most inspirational thing I had encountered at that time was the retreat we were
told to go on. This retreat was at the Ave Maria place (the place where the
seniors just went on, sorry father, I forgot the name). Out there, there is time
to become one with yourself and truly reflect on your life. At that time, that
is just what I needed. I felt lifted and was ready to testify to my faith. I was
ready to receive the sacrament of Confirmation. I thank the Lord forgiving me
that strength and faith so I could receive that sacrament. I already stated that
I disagree that someone should be apart of something that they do not
understand. At that point, I knew I understood.
After my confirmation I had
all types of challenges in my life. This is what I meant by “pleasurable pain.”
It was hard for my growing up. I live in a neighborhood that has a lot of
criminal activity. I went from hanging with the guys that I grew up with to
watching them being harassed or put in jail by the police or maybe worse, being
killed. I prayed my God to keep me away from those things and people. This was
not easy. I asked God to keep me away from my friends since I grew up. I
anticipated this was going to happen. I was walking home from school and they
would be on the corner all day. One day I asked my mother why they don’t go to
school, she told me that they are in school. I did not understand that at the
time but now I see she was referring to a type of school that I do not want to
every sign up for. It is hard for a kid to accept that he cannot go outside
after dark anymore. It is still hard to this day. As funny as this sounds
everybody in this neighborhood respects this family. They understand that my
sister and I are in school and we take that seriously. I pray to God to give
them guidance. I look in my block and see all the athleticism and watch it go to
waste. I even try to talk to some of them and they all tell me the same thing
“man I going to get my life straight, I am about to move out of here.” I just
hope God watches over them and help them to see the light.
Another challenge
I had to overcome in my life is the recent death of my grandmother. I never
really experience death in my family before until then. Both of my grandfathers
died when I was very little, thus I became extremely close to my grandmothers.
My grandmother was so ill until we expected her time was going to end soon. She
had suffered a stoke that put her into a mild comma. When the doctor came and
told us the end was near, I became weak. I became very weak. When I saw my
grandmother lying on that bed, I ask God almighty why? Why her and why now? My
own selfishness did not want her to leave. When I heard that long beep from the
heart monitor, it seemed like a part of me died with her. I asked God repeatedly
why. I can to not want to speak to God. I loved my grandmother with all of my
heart and soul and He took her away from me. I felt cheated. Until one day I
talk to a friend of the family (we call him Uncle Jessey). He made me understand
the cycle of death. After all the classes I have sat through dealing with my
faith and all I have learned, nothing could have prepared me for this tragedy. I
thank God for my Uncle Jessey kind words and for helping me to overcome my
grandmother’s death. Another instance I remember is seeing Coach Deleica and
Coach Griff at my grandmother’s funeral. At that moment I felt the true presence
of my St. Augustine family.
A couple of days ago, I attended my senior trip.
When I first got there I was just glad to be out of class but as the day
progressed I began to talk to God. I began to hear the music of the Lord. I felt
lifted at the end of the day. After I leave Church, I always feel lifted (if I
go to the right church). I attend St. Peter Claver Church. St. Peter Claver is a
predominant black church. It has a gospel type of choir. Mass is last a minimum
of 90 minutes. Without this service I would not be able to go on with life. “I
hope that God will forever keep blessing me and watch over my love ones and
friends,”
St. Joseph and St. Augustine
Pray For Us.