On weekends, I serve at church.
I said yes to the calling.
For faith.
For faith.
For gratitude.
As a way of returning God’s gift of speaking to me
by helping spread His Word.
Recently, I was elected as one of the leaders of our church’s special ministry.
I did not expect it.
Maybe this is what happens
after years of simply showing up.
Years of serving weekday and weekend Masses.
Five in the morning before the work commute.
Seven in the evening after a long day.
No spotlight.
No applause.
Just service.
It started as my way of giving back.
A quiet thank-you to God
for the gift of speaking,
and the courage to use it for something that matters.
Yes, it is volunteer work.
Yes, it is unpaid.
But somehow,
I always walk away feeling richer.
Because the return is never money.
It is peace.
It is fulfillment.
It is that quiet assurance
that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
Every reading feels like a conversation with God.
Every “Thanks be to God” from the congregation
feels like an answered prayer.
Years later,
I am still grateful for the chance to serve.
Still tired sometimes.
Still juggling responsibilities.
Still showing up.
Still paid in grace.