Have you loved someone so much that you can’t live a life without? Have you loved someone that he/she becomes your world, the epitome of love and the meaning of life?

I loved someone so much that he means the world to me.  He was the most important person in my life, the one who defined what love is. 

Then everything changed when he decided to end his life and left me with a broken heart.  I was twelve then when I came to believe that the person you love the most is the person who can hurt you the most. When my father died, my world crumbled and a part of me was buried with him, even the most important thing that he taught me – FAITH IN GOD.

“Where is God when I needed Him the most?”

“If He is the real God, then why did HE let these things to happen?

“Am I really worshipping the real God?  Maybe the EVIL they told me about is the real God because the God I am worshipping now can do nothing to bring back the life of my father”

Questions. I had too many questions that I never say aloud, questions that consume me as the pain I am feeling deep inside becomes more and more felt.

My father was the love of my life.  And because HE was love and God is love; I no longer believe in God when my father left. I stopped believing that God is real and He loves his people. At a very young age, I believed that we are our own God and life is too cruel to depend on someone that is not really there.

I was twelve then, so young yet so filled with bitterness and pain.

People come and go. Life is harsh. Pain is an indivisible factor of life. Deal with it.

I was saved by this misery on one weekend 13 years ago. I was invited to join a youth camp of a Catholic lay organization. During the first night of that camp, a young man told me that God loves me.  Although my  stoned heart  was apathetic  and my stubborn mind disagreed, I felt being loved more and more each day after I hear that very sincere words “God loves you”.  My encounter with Christ was neither a majestic encounter nor an out of this world “Road to Damascus” experience.  It was a comforting and peaceful homecoming; gradual, slow, yet profound and meaningful.

The death of my father was the birth of my faith and it continues to bear its fruit 13 years after that fateful encounter with my Father in heaven.

Two weekends ago I was asked by a friend, “What’s with your community (CFC) Youth for Christ that you chose to work as a missionary?”

Answering to his question was like riding a  time machine that brought me back to that fateful night when I first encountered God.  The night when I joined our community, Couples for Christ – Youth for Christ.

 I then came to understand why do I keep on recalling the death of my father (I have shared this story more than twice in this blogJ). It’s not that I am still dealing with the remnants of his death but it’s because the pain and brokenness of the little girl who lost her father 15 years ago is being encapsulated by the love and mercy of God. Every time I remember my father, I become more aware of how great the love of the Lord is for me.  

When my father on this Earth departed, my Father in heaven took Papa’s place and my life was never been the same again.

Indeed there is “gain in pain" because  in every pain, there is a God who opens His arms while saying, “Let my love for you take away the pain and let my hands wipe away your tears”.

May you experience His unconditional love today!