What do you do?
Do you look up at the stars and look wait for that classic shooting star?
Do you wait for an angel possibly disguised as a person to give you a sign?
Or, do you look for the ultimate sign, the burning bush and does a burning forest qualify as that?
Just what is this God’s sign that you are waiting for?
That’s the question I ask, each day, every day. And I wait for an answer.
No, I’m not kneeling in front of a cross and praying my heart out; desperately asking for a sign. That’s not my style. So what am I doing? Getting squeezed from all sides by a five ton pressure and both my hands are raised up. No, they’re not crucified up a cross. I wish they were. Both my fingers were holding onto the train handles as tightly as possible. People constantly pressed and pushed on me. The only resistance I could give was because of the train handles. And when my train station came, I rushed out with the crowd.
Where was I going? To work. Until I felt the call of God, I would live life like everyone else, which is basically go. to. work.
I follow the flood of people, up the stairs, down the stairs, through the streets, up the elevator, in the office sitting at my desk, clicking the mouse and tapping on the keyboard. Between all that time, there was no sign.
Fine, if there is no physical or visual sign, I should feel something. Like… how do I describe it.. That feeling when you see a girl walk into the room and you just know that she’s the one. Of course, I glance at the entrance of the pantry. People are entering and exiting at the room with their coffee and tea. There’s a bearded guy. No, he’s not Jesus. I don’t expect God or Jesus to walk through the door, and then my heart to flutter, my mouth to drool with dripping and frothy saliva and then I would just know - The calling.
The day ends, I leave. The same crushing by hundreds of people. Where’s the sign? I ignore that begging lady holding on to her child. It’s hard to say, but giving alms does not really change that person’s life. Giving alms to an organisation is better.
I am at home. There is still no sign. All my life I am told there would be a sign, a calling… a knowing. But it never came, so I didn’t become a priest.