Amidst attending a few of Kitchie’s gigs this past weekend, I find myself struggling from an illness. Everytime I have something big coming my way or I feel lazy to do something, I always wish I would get sick in order for me to get excempted from any work. It’s the perfect escape route for me.

The big problem comes when the illness becomes worse. I only asked for a simple cold or a mild fever, but it would evolve to something as bad as influenza or sometimes a skyrocket fever. It must be some way of God’s punishing me for being lazy.

Now I’m eligible to use the line “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired!”

What I do like about being sick is the solitude. Nobody is left in the house during weekdays so it’s finally peace and quiet time when I absent myself from school. I can do anything I want, just as long as it won’t worsen my sickness. Most of the time, I just stare at a blank space, and think.

This afternoon, because of a slight fever due to colds, I got myself into thinking again. Think, think, think. For a moment or two my mind went blank, nothing in it but pure space. Then something entered my mind. It’s something that has boggled me for a couple of months already, and it’s something I had refused to accept, even though somebody’s slamming it to my face already.

I thought about my Religion. No, not my relationship with Christ, but my Religion in particular. Roman Catholicism.

A few months ago an elder friend told me I’m still vulnerable when it comes to defending my Religion. Yes, I may have established a great personal relationship with Christ months ago, but still, young as I may, I lack proper and adequate Catechism. I might not know what to answer when you ask me when the Catholic Church was established, what does Proverbs 13:4-5 say (if ever there really was a Proverb of that verse), or who was this Bible Character who married a harlot. I’m not particularly a big fan of the bible, and I have missed quite a number of Sunday Mass to compensate for my lack of knowledge of The Word.

What I’m particularly afraid of is when I’m interacting with people that are not of my Religion. Most especially if they outnumber me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not “AIDS-afraid” of these people, I’m afraid if they ask me questions about my Religion. Like one time when a Christian asked me what Church I go to, I blatantly told him I’m Catholic, knowing that the “what church you go to” question applies to most Christians and that it is well known for Catholics as “Parishes”. He still pushed the question, and I told him my parish. All is well and done!

See, conversations like that are what creeps me out. It’s like a practical test in Basic Catechism that when I fail to answer correctly I might get excommunicated.

Another thing I don’t quite understand are the denominations of Christianity. Most Roman Catholics believe they are another religion and is not one and the same with other Christians. I think I need to study more on the similiarities and differences of these denominations, so that I may know how to deal with the situation if ever I had another encounter with them.

Questions like “What’s the difference between Catholics and Born-Again Christians” or “Will there be something wrong if I attend a Christian Sunday Worship?” or even “Am I not allowed to intermingle with Born-Again Christians?” always pop up inside my head. What I do know is I admire how strong Born-Again Christians’ Relationship with Christ is.

I’m young and vulnerable. I’m not equipped with ample knowledge about my Religion. But still, I honor and glorify Christ as my one and true savior.

You know what else I need? A Spiritual Guidance Counselor. Who is kind of busy right now. Hello, Kuya Gary! You there?!

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