Coldplay

So today, well, yesterday, I was having a day that was pretty much the same as any other day.  You know the ritualistic happenings.  Open and rub eyes, stretch, get up, brush teeth, wash face, get dressed, skip breakfast and prepare backpack for a class that you’ve lost interest in since your first D on a test.  It was deja-vu all over again.  It gets tiring really. 

But let’s back track.

In a world where everything will never go your way you have to think about your future and how your plans will, if ever, will be taken into effect.  There’s going to be days when it’s going to go to waste.  There’s going to be semesters where my interest will fade.  Insipiration has left me completely these days.   And there’s a void within my being that has been purposely, or unpurposely, I’m not entirely sure, emptied.  My breathing was shorter because of the heavy burden of thoughts that seem silly now.  Those thoughts were the reason for my disconnection with someone close to me.  And that was the day I decided to leave confirmation after going through training and enroll full time as a student, thinking I wasn’t going to have enough time, which I didn’t, but I still could have made time.

Today.

When you listen to Coldplay, you’re bound to feel emotions that you’ve never felt before, or quite possibly repressed in hopes of saving face from your family and peers.  So, throughout a troubled semester, I discovered Coldplay.  I’ve never really listened to any of their material, but one of their songs today spoke to me in the most amazing and uncanny way.

After coming home from school and feeling overwhelmed from the everyday stresses of life that have been seeping their way little by little with every waking breath, I decided to pay a visit to St. Dominics and just reflect.  On Jesus, me, my family struggles, my future, my job, my education, my friends, and past.  I walk into the vestibule and notice it’s irregularly dark, that’s because I forgot to remove my sunglasses.  Once I did, I felt my eyes travel past the aisles across the church and unto the cross and Christ’s image.  And I kept my gaze on His image, even when the sun shining through the stained glass darkened my vision.  I dropped my things on the first front pews of the altar and kept moving towards the feet of Christ.

I was quiet for a few seconds thinking of what to say, like some prodigal son with his tail between his legs.  “Tell me the truth.”  I began.  I could feel my heavy breaths slow.  “Because, I’ve forgotten me, how to feel, my righteous footing, you.  I don’t want to forget you.“  Now my wording isn’t as accurate as I hoped it would be for my sharing, but bare with me.  I swear to you I’m not making this up. “Tell me any truth.”  I needed some answers before anyone else entered the church and saw me.  I kept hearing noises of doors closing behind me, probably parents picking up their kids. 

I find my way back to my backback and just sit and look behind me and see a mother and her daughter entering.  I thought to myself asking if they saw me. 

Insert Coldplay.

“Fix You” is playing on my Zune (Yes, Zune, not iPod).  And before the Chris Martin starts singing there was a different song playing called “Death and All His Friends.”  I started to feel a bit hot and teary eyed.  I suppose it was a spiritual awakening.  I know it was the holy spirit, God’s hand on my heaviness and breathing.  I wept.  For me, my brothers, mother and father, my friends, my church, country, education, past, present and future.  In comes Mr. Acosta, just as the openning of “Fix You” comes on, and I feel a little embarrassed showing emotion in front of the guy.  He walks straight into the Sacristy (sp?) and as Chris Martin sings “lights will guide you home” he turns on the lights.  It was the most beautiful soundtrack of my day.  It was the most reveiling sign that God’s home is where I am complete.  It is at His home where He fixed me.  And “tears stream down your face.”  They did.  I cried for a good 6 minutes before feeling lighter.  My heaviness was gone.  My breathing was normal again, more profound and I was able to taste the freshness of the wind and the warmth of the sun’s rays seeping through the trees.  I found a piece of me that I thought I lost, but in reality should have been looking under my nose.  (I’m totally going to reword this and write something of an extension.)

I will never forget yesterday.  It was a revelation of how God can work through music, environment, and others.  All the answers I want are a question and a shuffled playlist away (That’s a little extreme but when I exited the church Speed of Sound started to play).  It’s probaby all coincidence, but I have never been able to cry and to feel His presence since I don’t know when.  It was a good day.

In closing, God + Coldplay = religious experience for Paul.

All Leading to The Cross

Hello everyone, my name is Paul and I’m a new blogger for the Jesus Walk.  I’m very excited and will be trying to write as much as I can.  I’m not sure if we have something to do with a theme for each mass or something, or religous event?  To be honest, I thought this the best way to help me start writing again.  It’s been almost a year since I’ve put pen to …. well in this case finger to keyboard.  So, I thought I’d free write a short flash fiction.  I think that God blessed me with something and I’d like to put it to use for His will.  I feel I need to clear my thoughts and gain a better perspective of life.  I’ve been writing for four years now, so I’m still pretty much one of the “melodramatic, not yet found their own voice writer.”  But every writer is his/her own worst critic.  I hope you enjoy what I have not yet written.

—–

Everytime we did this, my mother and I, my leg would always jump up and down, it was almost over.  I could tell, because fifteen minutes had gone by.  It was hard to concentrate when all you were saying was the same thing over and over again.  I thought it funny how such a beautiful thing could be so boring.  One of the heads of the beaded necklace was pinched, securely covered by my index finger and thumb.  Just alot more beads to go.  I knew this was a special moment, but I thought the sound and sight of my brother playing my gameboy was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

“These beads which hang from your hand are pure love,” my mother said, “think of it as a song from our Blessed Mother.”  All I could think about was how good the beads smelled.  She continued, “Each one, a rose with no thorns, pure love connected never ending.  All leading to the cross, to Jesus, mijo.”  And so, I began to pray.  I began to let the scent of each rose take over me.  I began to listen to the Blessed Mother’s voice through my mother’s voice.  I began to hold each bead tighter and closer to my chin.

I remember this because each bead, each small, yet powerful bead led me to the cross.  I found a path that my thoughts, mouth and heart could walk without ever leaving my seat.