03/04/2026
FROM CROSS TO CALLING: A Holy Week Reflection
By Erwin L. Galan
Holy Week is a time to reflect on life’s fragility, the weight of sacrifice, and the power of hope. As we meditate on Christ’s journey—His suffering, death, and resurrection—I see these truths mirrored in my own life, shaping me into the person I am today.
BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH
I was born into reality, neither comfort nor chaos, but a world where expectations were heavy and explanations few. On January 19, 1982, my life began with uncertainty. My twin brother was born first, and when I finally entered the world, I was not breathing. The midwife believed I was gone and baptized me immediately.
Before I had truly lived, I had already faced death. Yet my father refused to accept that ending. Between panic and prayer, something changed—I began to breathe. My fragile life was preserved.
This first encounter with mortality became my first Holy Week lesson: suffering does not always end in loss; sometimes it prepares the soul for purpose. Just as Christ carried the cross, I was entrusted with survival.
THE HOSPITAL THAT RAISED ME
Most children remember playgrounds. I remember hospital rooms.
I spent my early years in Englewood Hospital, confined by illness, witnessing the quiet sacrifices of my parents. Their worry, strength, and perseverance became my first lessons in love through sacrifice.
During those years, I learned that suffering teaches gratitude, resilience, and responsibility. Weakness does not diminish the human spirit—it strengthens it. Silence, observation, and endurance became my companions, much like Christ endured His suffering with patience, love, and unwavering faith.
Throughout elementary school, I was confined almost every week. While classmates worried about homework and games, I worried about lab tests, injections, and treatments. I watched my parents carry burdens I could barely understand. In those quiet, lonely hours, I prayed—not for myself, but for their strength—and made a silent promise: one day, I would become strong—not only for myself, but for them. Pain, isolation, and observation became my teachers. Just as Christ endured His suffering, my early struggles shaped my character.
FROM FRAGILITY TO STRENGTH
Life’s challenges never ceased. In high school, I took on summer jobs in bakery commissaries, where I first learned discipline and quiet sacrifice. Even then, I was already carrying responsibilities beyond my years—much like how Jesus Christ, in His early life, lived in simplicity, preparing for a greater purpose through humble beginnings.
After graduation, I continued my journey through college, supporting myself by working multiple jobs—at a motorcycle and fishing supply store, as a salesman in general merchandise, and in bakeshops. Each day demanded perseverance. Each task required patience. Like the hidden years of Christ, these were moments unseen by many, yet deeply formative—where strength was quietly built through sacrifice.
After college, I entered the professional world as an apprentice. Step by step, I moved forward—becoming check-in counter staff, and eventually Officer-in-Charge at the Oceanjet Siquijor branch. Responsibility grew heavier, but so did my resolve. In this, I reflect on the public life of Christ—when His mission became visible, and with it came both purpose and pressure. Leadership, like faith, requires standing firm even when the weight increases.
Later, love led me to Dubai, following my girlfriend as she pursued her career at the prestigious JW Marriott Hotel. I began again from the ground up—as a minibar attendant. It was a humbling restart, a stripping away of status, a return to service. In many ways, it echoes the humility of Christ, who chose to serve rather than to be served.
From there, I embraced every opportunity to grow—working in room service, coffee shops, fine dining, buffets, lounges, pool bars, and sports bars. I encountered people from all walks of life, even royal families. Yet I reminded myself: it was never about who I served, but how I served. This mirrors the heart of Christ’s ministry—He met all people with the same compassion, dignity, and love.
I gave more than what was required—working beyond hours, volunteering for extra duties, and offering my best in every task. There were moments of exhaustion, silent struggles, and unseen effort. In this Holy Week, I am reminded of the path to Calvary—the perseverance of the Passion of Christ, where giving continued even in the face of hardship.
Recognition came—not as a goal, but as grace:
Associate of the Month
Front of the House Awardee
Appreciation letters from valued guests
These moments felt like small resurrections—reminders that sacrifice, when rooted in purpose, is never in vain. Just as the sorrow of Good Friday leads to the hope of Easter Sunday, my struggles found meaning through growth and recognition.
Eventually, I was entrusted with a role in Loss Prevention, safeguarding the well-being of guests, staff, and management. It became more than a job—it was a calling to protect, to serve, and to be vigilant. In this, I see a reflection of Christ as the Good Shepherd—watchful, responsible, and committed to the safety of others.
This Holy Week, my journey reminds me that fragility is not weakness—it is the beginning of transformation. Like Christ’s path, my life has been shaped by humility, service, sacrifice, and renewal.
And just as the cross was not the end, neither are life’s hardships. They are pathways to strength, purpose, and ultimately—hope.
ENTREPRENEURSHIP AND LEADERSHIP
While I was still employed, a quiet calling began to grow within me—a desire not just to earn, but to build. I explored business opportunities—organizing raffles, engaging in buy-and-sell, and joining multi-level marketing ventures involving food supplements, beauty products, forex, stocks, and cryptocurrency. I absorbed every training I could, shaping both my strategies and my mindset.
Yet the road was marked by repeated failure.
Plans collapsed. Money was lost. Efforts went unseen. There were days of uncertainty and nights filled with questions. But I chose to continue.
In this Holy Week, I see those moments as my own desert season—a time of testing and preparation, much like the trials of Jesus Christ before His mission was fully revealed. The struggles were not punishments—they were formations. Every failure stripped away pride, fear, and doubt, preparing me for something greater.
Then, at the moment I least expected it, everything began to change.
I encountered a person who did more than offer opportunity—they expanded my vision. Through their guidance, I began to understand what it truly means to become a business owner. That meeting was not an accident—it was a turning point, a calling.
From that encounter, I co-founded an Import-Export General Trading LLC in a Freezone entity—an offshore company that became the seed of a larger purpose.
Like the beginning of a mission, it started small, almost hidden. But purpose has a way of growing when it is nurtured with faith and perseverance.
Soon, I expanded into multiple businesses in the mainland, including a Fragrances & General Trading LLC, where I stepped into the role of CEO. What once felt distant became reality—but with it came greater responsibility.
We explored the fragrance industry through diverse marketing approaches—from traditional retail to network-driven strategies. At the same time, we established typing centers, business consultancy, accounting services, recruitment, labor supply, cleaning services, and medical homecare. We built partnerships with law firms and travel agencies.
Each venture carried risk. Each decision required courage.
And in this journey, I began to understand a deeper truth: leadership is not about being above others—it is about walking with them.
From minibar attendant to CEO, my path reflects a passage through humility, sacrifice, and growth. There were moments that felt like carrying a cross—heavy responsibilities, difficult decisions, unseen burdens. In the spirit of Good Friday, I came to realize that true leadership often requires sacrifice—giving more than what is comfortable, and standing firm even when the path is difficult.
But the story does not end in struggle.
Just as Easter Sunday brings light after darkness, every breakthrough in my life became a reminder that perseverance leads to renewal. Growth came not only in business, but in character, faith, and purpose.
Entrepreneurship taught me how to build.
But leadership taught me how to serve.
And service, I realized, is the highest form of success.
Just as the journey of Christ transformed suffering into redemption, my own journey transformed failures into lessons, and struggles into strength. I was shaped not only to achieve, but to uplift—to create opportunities, to guide others, and to honor the people who believed in me along the way.
This Holy Week, my story reminds me that every hardship carries meaning. Every fall prepares us to rise. And every sacrifice, when offered with purpose, leads us closer to who we are meant to become.
From fragility to strength…
from striving to purpose—
the journey continues, guided by faith, shaped by perseverance, and renewed by grace.
Just as Christ’s suffering led to redemption, my own challenges shaped me—teaching me not only how to succeed, but how to lead, to serve, and to honor those who believed in me.
THE CALL TO SERVE
In time, I returned home—carrying more than experience. I carried lessons formed through sacrifice, humility, and perseverance. Though I ventured into local business and investments, I realized that something within me had changed. Success was no longer the destination—service had become the calling.
What I once pursued for growth, I now embraced for purpose.
I stepped into my community—not as someone seeking position, but as someone willing to serve. I became a community organizer, a provincial focal person, and a frontliner during the COVID-19 pandemic. In a time of fear and uncertainty, I chose to be present—to stand where others needed strength, support, and hope.
I became a quick responder during Typhoon Odette, moving toward those in need rather than away from the storm. In those moments, I saw reflections of compassion in action—echoing the ministry of Jesus Christ, who met people in their suffering, not from a distance, but face to face.
I accepted roles that demanded both leadership and sacrifice—PTA President, Federated PTA Chairman, Sangguniang Barangay member, and a member of the Philippine Air Force Reserve Command. Each responsibility became more than a title; it became a mission to serve, protect, and uplift.
And in this Holy Week, I am reminded of a powerful image—one that defines true leadership.
During Maundy Thursday, Christ knelt to wash the feet of His disciples. The King became a servant. Authority was expressed through humility. In the same way, I came to understand that leadership is not about being above others—but about kneeling beside them, lifting them, and walking with them through their struggles.
Service is not always easy.
There were long days, difficult decisions, and unseen sacrifices. There were moments when the burden felt heavy—like carrying a cross not visible to others. Yet, in the spirit of Good Friday, I learned that true service often requires endurance, surrender, and faith—trusting that even the hardest paths lead to a greater purpose.
And still, the story does not end there.
From once being a hospital patient—fragile, uncertain, and in need of care—my life has come full circle. I was not only restored; I was entrusted. The one who once needed help became someone called to help others.
This is the quiet miracle of transformation.
And just as Easter Sunday reveals that life rises from sacrifice, I see in my own journey that purpose is born through service. What was once broken became meaningful. What was once uncertain became a mission.
In the rhythm of this Holy Week, my life finds its reflection:
From fragility… to strength.
From striving… to purpose.
From success… to service.
Just as Christ’s journey moved from humility to sacrifice, and from sacrifice to resurrection, my own path continues to unfold—guided not by ambition alone, but by a deeper calling to serve.
Because in the end, the greatest leadership is not found in power—
but in compassion.
Not in recognition—
but in quiet sacrifice.
Not in being served—
but in serving others with love.
And this is the calling I now choose to live.
BLESSINGS AND GRATITUDE
Along this journey of life, I have come to see that nothing is lost, nothing is wasted. Every step—every struggle, every breakthrough—has been guided by a hand far greater than my own. God has blessed me abundantly, not just with provision, but with love, purpose, and direction.
I am surrounded by a family that reflects His care and faithfulness—parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, in-laws, a devoted wife whose unwavering faith strengthens me in moments of weakness, and a precious daughter whose smile reminds me daily of hope and purpose. In them, I see more than love; I see responsibility, calling, and grace mirrored back to me. They are my quiet sanctuary in the midst of life’s battles.
This reflection draws me to John 19:25–27, where Jesus, even while dying on the cross, thought of others. Standing near Him, He entrusted the care of His mother Mary to the disciple He loved, saying, “Woman, behold your son,” and to John, “Here is your mother.” In that moment, even in suffering, His focus was on relationships, compassion, and the formation of a new family. It was a profound example of love, trust, and care that transcends circumstance.
Just as Jesus’ care and compassion extended to those closest to Him, I see my family as a sacred gift—a source of strength, encouragement, and purpose. Their presence reminds me that life is not measured by what we endure alone, but by the love we give and receive, the responsibilities we embrace, and the grace with which we walk through every challenge.
In this Holy Week, as I reflect on Christ’s journey of suffering, sacrifice, and renewal, I recognize the quiet miracles in my own life: the guidance of God in every step, the unwavering support of my loved ones, and the call to live not for myself alone but in service, love, and gratitude. My family, like the Church entrusted to Mary and John, anchors me, sustains me, and reminds me that every struggle, every joy, every moment of life is a part of a larger, divine story.
In this Holy Week, I reflect on the intimate and sacred moments in the life of Jesus Christ—not only the miracles and the crowds, but the stillness, the prayers, and the relationships that sustained Him. Just as Christ found strength in communion and love, I too find my strength in the family God has entrusted to me.
Because even the strongest must return to love to be renewed.
Through God’s guidance, I have received not only opportunities, but provision. Financial blessings came at the right time—never early, never late—always enough. And with them came a deeper understanding: blessings are not possessions; they are assignments.
They are meant to flow, not to be stored.
This truth echoes the very heart of Holy Week. Love is not proven by what we hold, but by what we release. Giving is not measured by comfort, but by sacrifice. In the shadow of Good Friday, I am reminded that the greatest act of love was total surrender—holding nothing back.
And yet, the story does not end in sacrifice.
Because after surrender comes renewal.
After giving comes fullness.
After the cross comes life.
In the light of Easter Sunday, I see that every blessing carries the power to give life—not only to ourselves, but to others. What we share multiplies. What we give returns in ways unseen. What we offer in love becomes something eternal.
And so my journey continues in this rhythm:
To receive with gratitude…
To give with humility…
To serve with love…
Because truly, life becomes richer not in what we keep,
but in what we allow God to give through us.
Just as Christ’s life was a constant outpouring—of love, of grace, of sacrifice—my own journey is learning to follow that same path: not holding tightly to blessings, but releasing them so others may also be blessed.
For in the end, the greatest gift is not what we receive—
but what we become
in the process of giving.
Reflections for Holy Week
1. Survival is sacred. Every moment is a gift, a chance to live with purpose.
2. Suffering builds character. Pain is not punishment—it is preparation.
3. Service is the highest triumph. Leadership is proven by how we lift others.
4. Hope endures. Even when the world doubts, faith carries you through.
5. Strength is quiet. It grows in the unseen, in persistence, and in daily choices.
6. Gratitude multiplies blessings. Family, love, and God’s provision remind us of life’s abundance.
This Holy Week, as we reflect on sacrifice, redemption, and resurrection, I remember my own journey—from a fragile infant confined to hospital rooms, to a man entrusted with service and responsibility. Life asks us to carry burdens, persevere, and rise above fear and weakness. In every struggle, there is a lesson; in every challenge, a call to serve; and in every act of faith, a chance for resurrection within our own lives.
With a loving family, God’s guidance, and countless blessings, we are reminded that survival is not just a gift—it is a responsibility to live fully, love deeply, and serve faithfully.
—Erwin L. Galan
