Sacred Heartache

Hi, I'm Ethan Drake, one of the teenagers who have been called, yet I still hold onto hope of being chosen. The words 'Many are called but few are chosen' have echoed in my ear's countless times, particularly when one receives a special call. The weight of these two powerful words, 'Called' and 'Chosen', lingers in my mind. I find myself questioning which of these applies to me. Am I truly called? Will I be chosen?

Well, my journey began when I was just eight years old, as the call first awakened in me. Becoming a priest was never my first goal; my childhood dream was to follow my father, Sebastian, who was a brave soldier. Our family history was connected to the spirit of warriors, with a legacy filled with the experiences of soldiers.

However, there came a key moment that changed my dreams. It happened while I was playing in a large field, where helicopters suddenly landed, bringing the bodies of soldiers who had died in a terrible battle. Seeing those wounded and dead soldiers filled me with great fear. In that moment, I ran away from the field, promising myself never to go back.

I was raised in a very religious Catholic family, where the sounds of prayer and the smell of incense filled our home. My grandmother, a strong figure of faith, would say the rosary every day and go to early morning Mass. She was my guiding light and inspired me whenever I had questions. But what about my mother? Hahaha! My mother, Olivia, had different hopes for me. She didn't see me entering the seminary; instead, she wanted me to choose a different path, one where I would have my own family and five kids, so she could enjoy being a grandmother.

I was only eight years old when I received the call. It happened while I was watching a movie and saw a man wearing a white robe. I was so inspired by him that I started imitating his actions and even dressed like him until I reached high school. But my mother would always argue against my aspirations and never wanted me to pursue that path. She had different plans for me, offering me opportunities to attend prestigious schools and pursue a career in a field like her childhood dream of becoming a nurse. But despite her crying I stood firm with my decision and entered the seminary.

Seminary

The seminary library was quiet, wrapped in the scent of old pages and whispered prayers. I sat across from Father Ben, the kind of mentor whose silence carried more wisdom than most sermons.

"You know, Father Ben," I said, voice barely above a whisper, "I feel torn. Between my calling to serve God... and the desires of my heart."

He leaned back, eyes soft with understanding.

"Many seminarians face this, my son. What led you here in the first place?"

I paused, letting the silence stretch.

"It was purpose. A call I couldn't ignore. I held onto it for years, even into tenth grade. I promised myself I'd never fall in love with a girl. My heart belonged to the One who first called me."

Father Ben nodded slowly.

"But something changed."

"Yes," I said, almost ashamed.

"Aurora. I met her in tenth grade. She was... different. And suddenly, everything shifted. I knew we came from different worlds, and I accepted that I'd never get to tell her how I felt."

He didn't interrupt. Just listened.

"In senior high, I felt the call again stronger this time. I thought I was ready. But love kept finding me. Three times, Father. Three encounters that shook me. Each one taught me something, broke something, healed something."

Father Ben leaned forward. "Then let's talk about them. One by one. Let's see what they revealed."

As I advanced to senior high school, reaching the 11th grade, I was filled with excitement. The prospect of life as a senior student felt different, and as time passed, I felt the call growing stronger.

"Ethan! Ma'am Lucy is looking for you. She wants to meet you in the library for an important discussion," Sophia said, struggling to catch her breath.

"Why?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, but it seems really important."

"Okay, I'll go." A sense of unease washed over me as I walked down the aisle. Ma'am Lucy was known for her strict demeanor, and she rarely called on students unless it pertained to academic concerns. As I walked, I racked my brain for any undone assignments, but I couldn't recall any.

Standing in front of the library, I took a deep breath, waving my hands nervously. As I pushed the door open, I expected to see only Ma'am Lucy, but I was met with the sight of the student council engaged in a meeting with her. I stood there, stunned and silent.

"Oh! Ethan!" Ma'am Lucy exclaimed, enveloping me in a hug. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm fine, ma'am, just a bit nervous," I replied.

"Ethan, you've been performing exceptionally well academically, and I see leadership potential in you that needs to be nurtured." I wasn't quite sure what she meant, but I continued to listen.

"The school year is drawing to a close, and the current student council will soon step down from their positions, including the President."

"So, what now?" I asked hesitantly.

"Ethan, I believe you have the potential to take on one of these roles," she said, smiling.

"But ma'am, I don't have any experience. I've never held a position on the council, and I'm just an ordinary student."

"Experience?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

She laughed and said, "That's exactly why I see potential in you. This will be your experience. I want to give you a chance to become the next student council president, given your exceptional performance in my class."

"But..." I began, but she cut me off.

"Ethan, this will be your experience. I want you to try." I paused, contemplating the challenges and responsibilities that lay ahead, none of which I had asked for or desired.

"But ma'am, I have a dream to pursue. I need to focus and spend time thinking about it. I'm even considering transferring to another school to take courses that align with my future dream."

Ma'am Lucy's face turned angry as she shouted, "That's a foolish decision, Ethan! Why wouldn't the courses here coincide with your future dream? Priesthood is about leadership. If you can't practice it here, you'll never grow!"

After her outburst, she sat down and turned away from me. "All I need from you today, Ethan, is a decision. Will you take this opportunity or not? The school needs you... the students need you."

I knew accepting would mean facing challenging times, but I also knew I would regret it if I declined. I struggled to respond to Ma'am Lucy. I was aware she saw potential in me and trusted me, but I didn't want to handle such problems. If I said yes, I would be focusing on others and the school, leaving less time for myself. I didn't understand why my love (God) was presenting me with this challenge.

"As of now, ma'am, I'll have to say no."

She turned her chair to face me, her face filled with anger. "Lunatic!!" she shouted in front of the council. "I'm going to call your mom! I need to talk to her." She threatened, "Ethan, I'm old and don't have much time left. If you say no and I die, I will haunt you." Her words filled me with fear. I handed her the phone, and she tried to call my mom. On the first try, my mom didn't answer. I hoped she would do the same on the second try, but to my surprise, she picked up.

"Mrs. Drake, Hi! This is Ma'am Lucy, Ethan's English teacher." For the first time, I saw her smile. She was usually very strict.

"I see potential in your son to become a leader, and I've invited him to run for president this coming year." They had a pleasant conversation, but when Ma'am Lucy relayed my mom's response, she said the decision was up to me. I told her I would not run for election, and her reaction changed from anger to deep sadness. My conscience spoke to me, "You made Ma'am Lucy sad."

Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, I decided to skip my second class and head to the adoration chapel. On my way there, deep in thought about my conversation with Ma'am Lucy, I ran into Father Con. I was surprised to see him. Father Con is a young priest, a friend of mine.

"Father Con, I only have one year left before I enter the seminary." He looked happy and proud at the news.

"But Ethan, have you ever been in a relationship with a girl? I mean, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

I was taken aback. Was that really a requirement? So I replied, "Ahh... hahaha... I've never had one, Father." He laughed and patted my right shoulder.

"Ethan, you should challenge yourself to have a girlfriend before you enter the seminary. You should have that experience because you might regret it in the future. I think it would be better if you did."

Where was God leading me? The closer I got to Him, the more confused I became. "Just come back to me, Ethan, when you're ready and have had that experience," the good Father laughed.

In the tranquil silence of the adoration chapel, I found myself seeking divine guidance.

"Lord, I'm not sure what your plan is, but I trust that you will never lead me astray. Please guide me in my decisions," I prayed.

The deadline for filing candidacy was fast approaching, and as I made my way home, I was torn about whether or not to accept the challenge.

On the day of filing, I sought out Ma'am Lucy. I found her with her head down on the table, seemingly asleep. According to one of the council members, she was deeply disappointed with my previous decision.

"Ma'am..." I said softly, trying to get her attention.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" she asked, her hair disheveled.

"I've changed my mind... I... I will file... I'll run." Her mood instantly changed.

"Ethan, you will never regret this decision. Congratulations!" she said.

"Thank you," I responded, though my emotions were a whirlwind and I was unsure of what lay ahead.

Days passed, and the eagerly anticipated election finally came to a close. To my astonishment, I was proclaimed the winner, securing a resounding vote of 285 compared to my opponent's 85. I never expected such an outcome. My opponent was a popular figure, a school crush admired by many. He had an impressive array of agendas and seemed to be ahead of me in the race, while all I had was my unwavering faith and my ability to articulate my thoughts.

Days passed, and the eagerly anticipated election finally came to a close. To my astonishment, I was proclaimed the winner, securing a resounding vote of 285 compared to my opponent's 85. I never expected such an outcome. My opponent was a popular figure, a school crush admired by many. He had an impressive array of agendas and seemed to be ahead of me in the race, while all I had was my unwavering faith and my ability to articulate my thoughts.

As the news of my victory spread throughout the school, students and teachers congratulated me, expressing their confidence in my leadership potential. The weight of the responsibility I had taken on began to sink in, and I knew that I had to prove myself worthy of their trust.

One afternoon, I found myself in a conversation with Father Con, seeking his guidance amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

"Father Con, I never expected to win the election. I feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. Can I really handle this role?" I asked, my voice filled with uncertainty.

Father Con placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and smiled.

"Ethan, God works in mysterious ways. He has chosen you for this position for a reason. Have faith in yourself and in His plan for you. Remember, true leadership is not about having all the answers; it's about listening, guiding, and serving others with humility."

His words offered me a sense of solace and renewed determination. I knew that I couldn't embark on this journey alone. I sought the guidance of Ma'am Lucy, the teacher who had seen potential in me from the start. I found her in her classroom, her face buried in a stack of papers.

"Ma'am Lucy," I called out softly, trying not to startle her.

She looked up, surprise evident in her eyes. "Ethan! Congratulations on your victory. I must admit, I was disappointed when you initially declined. But now, seeing your determination, I couldn't be prouder. You have what it takes to lead."

I smiled gratefully, appreciating her support. "Thank you, Ma'am Lucy. Your belief in me means a lot. I will do my best to fulfill the responsibilities entrusted to me."

Days turned into weeks, and I immersed myself in my new role as student council president. I faced challenges, made difficult decisions, and learned valuable lessons along the way.

Father Ben listened attentively to my story, his curiosity stimulated by the mention of the first girl who captured my heart. He leaned forward, his eyes filled with intrigue, and gently asked, "Ethan, you mentioned that meeting Aurora in your tenth grade changed everything. Can you tell me more about how you crossed paths with her? How did your connection with her impact your journey?"

I took a deep breath, my mind filled with memories of that fateful encounter.

"Father Ben, it was during a school event when I first saw Aurora. She was performing on stage, and her voice captivated me. It was as if her singing had the power to touch the depths of my soul. From that moment, I couldn't help but be drawn to her."

I spoke again, my voice trembling with a mix of longing and quiet defeat.

"But deep down, I always knew our paths were meant to drift apart. Aurora was radiant, confident, untouchable, born into a world of wealth and privilege. And me? I was just ordinary, weighed down by limits I could never escape. The distance between us wasn't just social, it was a chasm I could never cross. So, I swallowed my feelings, silently accepting that I'd never have the courage to tell her what she meant to me."

Father Ben leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with gentle curiosity.

"Tell me, Ethan... did you ever have the chance to court her? To hold even a fragment of a relationship with her?"

I hesitated, the memory pressing against my chest."Yes, Father," I whispered, just as the bell rang out, its solemn echo filling the room. Noon had arrived.

Our words dissolved into silence as we bowed our heads. Together, we recited the Angelus, our voices weaving into one prayer, an intimate rhythm of faith, remembrance, and surrender. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

When the prayer ended, Father Ben rose from his chair, his smile warm and knowing.

"It seems our conversation must wait until after lunch, Ethan. Let us nourish our bodies first, so that later we may return with clearer minds and stronger hearts."

I nodded, grateful for his patience.

"Thank you, Father. I look forward to continuing."

With anticipation lingering between us, we stepped out of the room. The air felt lighter, as if the pause itself carried meaning. Though we parted ways for now, both of us carried the unspoken promise: that my story, and Aurora's place in it, would unfold again, piece by piece, in the chapters yet to come