It's early dawn of Thursday. I am in the car - parked in front of the market. My father is buying food stock for the coming days. He is pissed off because a huge trailer truck is blocking the road.
That is why he just parked the car here - right in front of the market.
We've been from the Baclaran church. For three weeks now, my father has been going there on Wednesdays to pray for a particular intention. I do not know what exactly that is, but I believe it has something to do with opportunities and finances. Our family is weathering a storm at the moment.
That is why my father is going to the Baclaran church every week to pray for better days ahead.
I almost became an only child 19 years ago, if not for Mama and Papa's faithful devotion to Our Mother of Perpetual Help and the Child Jesus at the Baclaran Church. They uttered a prayer and knocked on the image of Sto. Niño for nine consecutive Wednesdays for a second baby. Not long after, my mother bore my now teenage brother.
That is why my father is back to where he used to be.
I believe God finds ways to draw you close to Him when you're going too far away and bring you down to your knees to talk to Him. But really, how does He talk to so many people telling different stories, asking for countless things all at once? Nobody can tell.
That is why He is God.