...continuation
I went home on the last day of November 1990. After eight years of honey and butter, I had to be home with my family to repair the damage I did.
Today, I believe that we journey in our own destiny, which is assigned to us by GOD. Why? Here is my proof. I am a barrio lad from the province of Surigao del Sur, who knows only the whistles of all the native birds and the common features of our water buffalos endemic to the Philippines. Never been used to the city life until I saw the dawn at UST in the mid-quarter storm during the Marcos regime. Then I met a beautiful yet simply alluring lady by the name of Mirasol McCrann Macapagal. Our lives crossed as we crossed enrolled in one of the summer classes at UST. In short I was mesmerized by her simplicity and candidness. I courted her not for months but years, yet with bad results. I gave up with a sad heart and I went home to earn a living.
I worked as a company guard at PICOP until things turned sour. In fact, I almost lost my life there as I caused the ire of one of the leaders of the province by giving a hard time to his bus line plying the province. I resigned and had to move on and decided to take up Law where I met a roommate Joel Dizon from Angeles City. Of all people, he was a former student of my wife, and believe it or not, she was still single according to him. Is this not the beginning of my destiny? I made my first letter to her which was delivered personally by Joel. The process of our relationship was in itself a long story worthy of possible exploration for a love story because of its pain and glory. And the rest was history. Truly I was not expecting it to be that easy unless HE wants it that way.
From Papua New Guinea, I went home to my family, and fixed my problem with my wife with success. I came home as sort of triumphant because I Had millions. I built a boarding house near the University at Angeles City, bought lots in top-class subdivisions, bought a Pay Loader and other equipments. And a fat dollar account with the Bank of America. My wife was a good financial manager. Our trust in God was not enough. In other words, I was never too close with the Lord whom I learned later to be the provider of all I earned in my lifetime.
From time to time, I felt the karma I had done to my family. One at a time my properties and money started to dwindle. At first, I thought that the reason was mismanagement. Until I realized that the causes of the disappearance of my properties were part of the wrath of God to me. I know He allowed this to happen to make me realize that indeed He is in control over me. Likewise, for me to be humbled. It took me a long time to realize that this was the message of God to me. Had there been a church entity like the migrants’ Desk to guide, counsel and inform all the parishioners about Migrants’ Desk concerns, things could have been different. I remember in one of my talks at the San Matias Parish when one of the participants who was a seaman asked us why it took so long for the Archdiocese of San Fernando to set-up this desk. He and his wife could not have been through some problems. I opted not to asked him what was it about because it could have been far worst than ours.
I joined the Saint Paul ….. ... to be continued
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