She Took The Road Less Traveled, And That Made All The Difference

In school, she was one of the pretty ones. Her face was both her blessing and her curse. Oh, how the guys tripped over her. The upperclassmen adored her. And oh, how our lady mates wanted to scratch her -- preferably with a sharp edged knife -- in the back, out of envy and yes, out of fear that she was luring all the Grade A guys away from their lair.

She was stunning. She was artlessly naïve. She was my best friend.

I’d like to say that we were like two peas in a pod, but frankly, though I’ve read this phrase from time to time, I cannot really picture what this means. So I’ll just tell you that we were closer than any twin sisters could get.

Have you ever known someone who can easily finish your half-sentences the way you want them said when you’re at a loss for words? Or understand exactly how you feel with just one look or touch of the hand? Or someone you’re always around with that people automatically ask where she is when you’re not together -- and the answer to which, of course, you always know?

Well, she was like that to me… and more.

Like most teenage kids, we had big dreams. And we planned them together—on the soccer field of UP High, in between classes, on the mountains of Camotes Island, and even during our occasional picnics to the cemetery. She wanted to be a beauty queen, a star, a face in front of the camera. I wanted to be a writer, a director, a star behind the camera. We’d play around. I’d watch her sashay around the tennis court and she’d look over my scripts. Then we’d take turns praising or lambasting each other.

When she won the beauty crown in her mother’s hometown, and I got my name published in our school paper, we both cried and thought – yes, we were on our way. Funny, we complemented each other so much that, at that time, it never crossed our minds that we wouldn’t accomplish our dreams together. Boy, we were so clueless.

I remember, it was an innocent twilight after classes when conversation with our two other best friends suddenly veered towards God. We were all watching the fading light as we pondered why life was so shallow, so seemingly meaningless, so miserably sad. We debated our purpose and cried over the underlying, yet nevertheless, throbbing pain felt by our generation. We took comfort in nature and wondered over the cycles of life. And as the first star shone brightly in the night, we thought of God.

That moment marked a new quest in our lives, a curve on the familiar road we were treading on.

Naturally, like most things, we explored it together and we were both blessed. Oh, the joy of discovering God, I’ve never known or felt quite like it with anything else. It was so pure. And suddenly everything was so clear. In the course of knowing God, we discovered our real gifts. Life began to look different. Inside, we were both changing. But later on, I realize, she was changing more than I was.

I guess you could say she heard a different drum. She had a different calling. And while I was rejoicing in my own gifts, sadly -- and terrifyingly I admit -- I could no longer hear the same music that she was. I couldn’t understand then why she was dancing to a different beat when we were both serving the same master.

For a while, I tried to keep up with her. I tried to learn the steps that were so effortless to her but then I was clumsy. It was downright frustrating dancing to music that you don’t hear. In my heart, I knew my feet were meant for something else, for another road. And as I saw the world inevitably split between us, I was shattered. Just as she was.

So I blamed God. I hated her. I backslided for awhile. She, on the other hand, was wise enough to embrace her path. Though she was hurting, she had joy. And soon enough, her life inspired me. It made me think, too, of the life that I was meant to live.

It’s a rocky road but I’m moving on. My heart has begun to heal a long time ago. I’ve learned to forgive her. And I’m beginning to a find a measure of the peace that we all eternally seek. God really does work in mysterious ways.

It’s been months, even years, since we’ve spent time together. But still, when I meet a face from my past, they ask me about her—how she is or where she’s been. I tell them honestly I don’t know but that she’s out there somewhere traveling in another island, another country, another plane. I see them momentarily impressed about one who’s been all over the world.

What does she do, comes the follow-up question. I tell them she’s a pastor. And then there goes that incredulous look, the wide eyes, and the demand to repeat what I’ve said. This time, I specify with a cheeky grin, “She’s a youth pastor.”

The beauty queen turned pastor? Some laugh. Some mock her behind her back. Some feel misguided pity. Some call her a fool. Most don’t understand.

I just shrug it all away. For deep inside, I’m proud of my friend. For though she has taken the road less traveled, I know that most of us won’t ever find, or can’t even imagine half the joy that she has found doing what she does. And that’s what makes her truly blessed, and some of us the pitiful ones.

Yes, our roads may diverge now, but I know someday my heart will find hers again. And when that moment comes, we will have a grand time catching up and telling tales of the adventures we’ve lived and left behind.

For the meantime, cil, here’s a toast and a dare – bottoms up!

God bless you, sis =)