To those who chase Charity

I’ve looked at my humanity in the face and I’ve got horrified.

I’ve seen all the times I wasn’t really giving, cause I was giving to receive and I was receiving without giving.

Not from malice, but from weakness.

All the times I didn’t want to suffer the pain of the others and share it. I didn’t want, I didn’t want, I didn’t want to hear about always the same sad stories — painful, sacrificed, disappointing ones.

I got tired. I wanted joy. I wanted peace.

Couldn’t I have peace?

Then, I would have been trying to reduce afflictions in every way.

I wasn’t living for Charity. I was living for me.

I was using the others to please my part-time desire to love and help so that I could feel good about myself.

But I wasn’t good, I was bad.

Less bad than many others, yet still bad.

It wasn’t true love, it was just sentimentality.

It wasn’t true help, it was exhibitionism.

I wasn’t an instrument of God, so I couldn’t change things, nor bring peace.

I’ve looked at my humanity and I’ve judged its fruits.

I’ve seen that each time it took precedence I lost something.

I had no peace.

My humanity was making my life ugly.

I was used to say: “God will take care of him…”. “And what about this other one??”, “God will take care of him too…!”. “And this thing?”, “What I’m supposed to do about that? It’s a matter for God! He is the Mighty One, I’m only a man…”, and so on.

And God took care of.

And God protected his children.

And God glorified his name.

But the more it was all up to God, the more I became useless.

The more I became useless, the more I became sad.