True to Your Call

Out of the blue, my husband starts to pray again.

I love to see him doing his thing with God.
I love the fact that he needs to get in touch with his Supreme Being.
I love to see him going "up" and "down" and his lips chanting the prayer.
Every move that he makes is so graceful.

The last time he prayed, maybe was on Idul Fitri. The day he took his son home from the hospital. It's a Victory Day, literally, because Dylan was in NICU and the hospital might not release him on the day I had to leave the hospital. But he did, little baby Dy went home with us. How wonderful.

Daddy was fasting for the whole month, not skipping even one day. Not even when he stayed up all night comforting me on the Labor & Delivery Room, and oh, he just did a double shift job. I knew how exhausted he was, but he had made a pact. I never thought he would make it, not to underestimate, but he never did that before. Remember hon, .. mama made your meal for Sahur? She wanted you to have a good nutrition. So she cooked at 1 AM, chatting with me, waiting for you to get home.

He kept his promise to God for the safe delivery of his unborn son. See, Dylan ... daddy loves you, even before you were born. You make him a better person.

We hold different religion. But it doesn't matter.
We try to respect each other's right and freedom to express ourselves. Especially to God. It has to be a true call.

He drove mom and me to Vihara, willingly joined the blessing ceremony for baby Dy.
He patiently waited for me outside Dhammasala for 2 hours when I had Bhante from Indonesia came.
He never once told me to change my religion for him.

And that's why honey, .. I found it beautiful to see you praying.