Lost in the Singapore Night

Dear Lord, the city lights outside my window here in Singapore are so bright, yet I have never felt more swallowed by darkness. I sit here in my small dormitory bunk, and I cannot stop my hands from trembling as I look at the transfer slip for my salary back to my family in Iloilo. My Tatay is sick, and the medicine is expensive, and I am working double shifts just to keep the roof over their heads. But tonight, the weight is too much to carry alone.

Why does it feel like my sacrifice is never enough? I left everything I knew, the smell of fresh pan de sal in the morning and the laughter of my nieces, just to become a machine that earns money. Have You forgotten me here in this cold, sterile room? I try to pray, but the words feel like dust in my mouth. I don't even know if You are listening or if You are just watching from a distance as I break apart piece by piece.

I am terrified that by the time I can finally go home, there will be nothing left of me to give to them. What do I do when the strength to persevere has completely run dry? I am so tired of being the 'provider' when I am the one who desperately needs to be held. Where are You when the silence of this bunk bed becomes deafening?

A son who feels like he is fading away, Elias