examen xx

i woke up this morning after a restless night being woken up constantly by the itch. on the in side of my hands, and all over the soles of my feet. like tiny little micro ants parading around the surface area, just beneath my skin. it was 6:40 and i had decided, maybe best not go to church.

my dad came in to the room to ask how it was and said my feet looked much better. it didn't feel it. di ka ba magsisimba? i begin to hear it. the negative questioning. i say probably not, because look at this. bakit, masakit ba? di mo ba kaya? i begin to feel attacked. a guilt trip? does this need further questioning? all throughout yesterday he was the same, being nonchalant, not caring that i was worried because i had used his slippers the previous evening and asked him to clean it. so hindi ka na magsisimba? papa. di ba may sakit ako? baka contagious pa ito. and masakit maglakad. sige, bahala ka.

i don't understand this.

my mom comes in to the room a bit later on and has similar inquiries. but it feels like she sees me more. and she understands when i say contagious. maybe she sees because she has been through illness that has isolated her. i don't think my dad has.

i wake up at 7:49 after what felt like a power nap. my mind feels wide open and there is a clear image of an old lady with boils, on the floor, just reaching out for the hem of Jesus' garment. the lack of peace from the initial conversation with my dad is far from my head and as i go out the door to check if they've left, my mom comes up a few steps of stairs and says, aalis na kami. gusto mo ba buksan ko yung internet? i say, can i come?

she prepares mouthwash for me while i dress up in semi-slow-motion. it's amazing how much more weight this pair of jeans has in my hands because of the lesions. in haste the sores on the side of my feet are chafed by my jeans. a wince. it passes. my dad is honking the car outside. she doesn't flinch. i am so grateful that in that moment it felt like the most important thing to do for her was to help me. i go down the stairs as quickly as i can and ease my feet into shoes slowly, slowly.

i haven't felt that in a while, that i had to go to the Father's house just to meet Him. despite myself, in spite of myself. the past years i have felt that i had to go, but for myself. that was a different kind of desperation. this desperation was liberating. in that moment i knew who He was. and because of that i knew that i would be healed.

my mom spots K on the way to a pew and we motion and mouth Hi's. i wave. i am not sure how to read her facial expression. but it's okay. i know where i am headed. i sit down at the pew and for the first time in a long, eventful december, i feel like i am exactly where i need and want to be.