My BFF. My Solace. My Serenity.

It took me time to write about my go-to-comfort-food-for-the-soul. When it comes to sanctity and/or The Father, I am speechless. Because I at all times believe I am unworthy of Him and His graces. This piece is not, to begin with, an act of righteousness on my part. But just a sharing of my one Go-To-Relief-in-the-Higher Power.  

I am human. I have my weaknesses. I try any thing once. That’s it. But when I know it is critical of my moral diktat and still nonetheless I go for it, then that’s another story. I may take full responsibility but consciously feel the heaviness of having disappointed my God.

It is also that during women-cycle days, as I undergo the woes and barrenness of being femmie, that I seek comfort with the mysteries. Though I may not be as comtemplative, I sense the welcoming of the Blessed Virgin Mother dependably.  

Such good sense that I took the habit of carrying the Almighty beads in my daily commute.   

It is on such grounds too that I prefer to partake such preferential gift to kin and pals, time and again.