Today’s youth is affected by this thing called “relationships.” Not just the romantic kind but relationships in general.
We care about relationships, we want relationships to be real and authentic. When they are not, we get upset and our emotions get the better of us.
One of the strongest models of relationship is our community. A community could be an organization or workplace, or even family and friends. However, we define what community means to us, we can always be proud of the community we belong to. The fact that we can have and be part of many communities means that we care. And whether our caring is innate or developed, it shows our human side and capacity to look beyond ourselves.
One thing I’ve observed is that some people are not open to their community. They are not open to the help and guidance of others. They want to appear strong but deep inside, they are lost and want to be found.
Writing is my outlet to express my hidden and reserved thoughts. This poem I wrote is dedicated to the people who found a community—but didn’t find reason to welcome them into their lives.
This body of mine will soon be a decomposing body filled with remorse.
My mind is at war between a legion of questions
and the grace you gave me
when we dipped our hands
in the same bowl in the last supper, which meant friendship.
You see, these lines around my eyes are not wrinkles, they are maps
that show you the winding road that leads to my pain, I’m tired.
I’m tired and I’m sorry.
I’m sorry, Lord, because I chose not to see Your worth.
I stood front row and center in a concert of Your glory.
I’ve heard you yell “Lazarus, come out!” with the authority from heaven and on earth branded from your breath.
I’ve felt your compassion for the lost when you turned fish into schools of fish and bread into loaves so that 5,000 could be satisfied.
I’ve seen a blind man see the color of the sky
when You colored him with Your grace.
He can really see now. And I can’t.
All I can hear are loud whispers that are convincing me that I am not worthy.
All I can feel are the 30 pieces of silver that made me so thirsty—for more.
All I can see is myself, and never us.
All I did is to get some bling-bling, and
the last supper was a reminder of my first suffering
my conscience made me conscious of the fact that I had betrayed an innocent Man.
But despite all these, You never saw me as trash but instead as treasure.
Despite how filthy and damaged I have become, You still desire to recycle me again.
Despite how messy my life has been, You’re still willing to take me back.
But I’ve had enough, even if You made me enough.
I will never understand my need for light because I have decided that darkness will be all that I know.
that I did not wait for three days.
I believe that communities should not only be welcoming to the youth. Instead, they should encourage the youth to speak their hearts out—and the community will be there to listen and dialogue.
Relationships are formed when communities have a willing heart and open arms. Communities are built on faith, hope and love. Because in the end, that’s all that matters.