an answered prayer

“And He took them up in His arms, put His hand upon them and blessed them.” Mark 10:16

yesterday, my son’s geometry teacher called me on my mobile and asked me to take a cab to school and take him to the hospital.  i tried my best to calm down, as i thought about how to possibly heed the call.  bhoy was still miles away from a meeting in jubail, and there was nobody in our office to drive me to the school.

even if there was, a woman is forbidden here to ride in a car with a man other than her husband.  and to take a cab is very risky and equally dangerous, and would probably create more trouble.  so i really had no option but to wait anxiously for bhoy to finally get hold of miguel, and do whatever was necessary.  it was hard enough to learn that my son was in an emergency situation.  but it was harder to be just pinned down on my seat and not be able to do anything for him.

as i waited in agony, i opened the page on which i saved the prayer card of St. Josemaria Escriva (thanks zita!) and just prayed for his intercession.  i remembered that when situations get out of hand, i just let go and let God.  yes i got really worried as i heard the concerned voice of my son’s teacher, but as i began to pray, a deep sense of calm took over.  then i knew that miguel was going to be alright.  less than an hour later, bhoy called and said they were already in the parking lot waiting for me.  not to go the hospital, but home.  miguel was already well and good.

they say God never says “no” to our prayers.  He just responds in varying, but always positive ways.  i believe so too.  He either answers  “YES” right away, or sometimes He will say “MAYBE SOME OTHER TIME“.  on other circumstances, He will tell us “I HAVE A BETTER IDEA”.

when daddy was recently diagnosed with the big PC, we began to pray so hard for him.  even begged God to make him well again.  although we know that a miracle would be necessary, we still continue to pray.  and it is amazing how, when we pray deeply enough, we lose ourselves to the divine presence of the Lord.  so powerful yet so tender that nothing else would ever come close to us.  only His loving assurance that everything will be taken care of.  and that everything will be alright.

it is also noteworthy how “unanswered prayer” and “an answered prayer” sound almost exactly the same. the difference lies on the strength of our faith in the absolute and divine power of God, and our constant communion with Him in every aspect of our daily lives.

we usually pray in the morning as we start our day.  before and after meals.  at night, before we go to sleep.  during sunday mass or novena days.  but to be in prayer doesn’t really need a schedule.  nor does it require an appointment with God.  anytime is prayer time. if we only learn to place our lives in God’s ever holy presence, then there’s always time and space for prayer. 

our prayers for daddy will go on.  and on. and on. no matter what. for we know deep in our hearts, the Lord already gave His answer… long before we even prayed for it.

(you may get the prayer card of  St. Josemaria Escriva at www.opusdei.org)

“Becoming Prayer” by Deacon K. Fournier

Reflection: Becoming Prayer

By Deacon Keith Fournier
8/22/2009

Catholic Online

Through prayer, daily life takes on new meaning. It becomes a classroom of communion.

CHESAPEAKE, VA (Catholic Online) – “Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. Do not quench the Spirit.” (1 Thess. 5:16-19)

St. Paul wrote these words to the early Christians in Greece. They did not live lives of ease, in any sense of the word. They had families, occupations, and real struggles, beyond what many of us could imagine. They also suffered greatly for their faith in a hostile culture.

He instructed them to “Pray without ceasing”. Did he really mean it? I believe that he did. The older I get, the simpler life gets. That does not mean it is “easy”. I speak of spiritual simplicity, the kind of attitude which gets right to the root of what really matters. I believe that Paul meant what he said to the Christians at Thessalonica and that his words are important to those who bear the name Christian today.We need to pray.

Prayer is an ongoing dialogue of intimate communion with God. God fashioned men and women as the crown of His creation, creating us in “His Image”, for this loving, relational conversation of life with Him. At the heart of understanding what it means to be “in His Image” is to understand the immense gift of human freedom and what has happened to our capacity to choose. Love is never coerced.

Our relationship with God was broken, separated and wounded through the first sin, the sin of origins or “original sin”. That sin, like all sin since, is at root a misuse of freedom infected by pride and self sufficiency. Our ability to exercise our freedom rightly, to live His Image by directing our capacity for free choice always toward the good, was impeded through the fall. Freedom was fractured.

The “Good News” is that through Jesus Christ, the way has been opened for an even fuller communion with God, one that is restored through His Incarnation, Saving life, Death and Resurrection. In Jesus Christ we are being re-created, re-fashioned and redeemed. He comes to live in all who make a place for Him within the center of their lives. This “making a place” is the essence of Christian prayer. It is not about doing, but about being.

The Lord wants us to freely choose to respond to His continual invitations to love. We will only find our fulfillment as human persons by entering into that kind of relationship. This is the meaning and purpose of life itself. As we grow in faith through our participation in the life of grace, lived out in the Church, our capacity to respond to His loving invitation grows as well, through prayer.

Prayer is about falling in love with God. Isaac of Ninevah was an early eighth century monk, Bishop and theologian. For centuries he was mostly revered in the Eastern Christian Church for his writings on prayer. In the last century the beauty of his insights on prayer are being embraced once again by both lungs, East and West, of the Church. He wrote these words in one of his many treatises on Prayer:

“When the Spirit dwells in a person, from the moment in which that person has become prayer, he never leaves him. For the Spirit himself never ceases to pray in him. Whether the person is asleep or awake, prayer never from then on departs from his soul. Whether he is eating or drinking or sleeping or whatever else he is doing, even in deepest sleep, the fragrance of prayer rises without effort in hid heart. Prayer never again deserts him. At every moment of his life, even when it appears to stop, it is secretly at work in him continuously, one of the Fathers, the bearers of Christ, says that prayer is the silence of the pure. For their thoughts are divine motions. The movements of the heart and the intellect that have been purified are the voices full of sweetness with which such people never cease to sing in secret to the hidden God.”

The Christian revelation answers the existential questions that plague every human heart and trouble every generation. Through His Incarnation, Saving Life, Death, and Resurrection, Jesus opens full communion with God for all men and women. He leads us out of the emptiness and despair that is the rotted fruit of narcissism, nihilism and materialism. When we enter into the dialogue of prayer, we can experience a progressive, dynamic and intimate relationship with God and He transforms us from within. We, as Isaac said, can “become prayer” as we empty ourselves in order to be filled with Him.

Through prayer, daily life takes on new meaning. It becomes a classroom of communion. In that classroom we learn the truth about who we are – and who we are becoming – in Jesus. Through prayer we receive new glasses through which we see the true landscape of life. Through prayer darkness is dispelled and the path of progress is illuminated. Through prayer we begin to understand why this communion seems so elusive at times; as we struggle with our own disordered appetites, and live in a manner at odds with the beauty and order of the creation within which we dwell only to find a new beginning whenever we confess our sin and return to our first love. Prayer opens us up to Revelation, expands our capacity to comprehend truth and equips us to change.

Through prayer we are drawn by Love into a deepening relationship with Jesus whose loving embrace on the hill of Golgotha bridged heaven with earth; His relationship with His Father is opened now to us; the same Spirit that raised Him from the dead begins to give us new life as we are converted, transfigured and made new. Through prayer, heavenly wisdom is planted in the field of our hearts and we experience a deepening communion with the Trinitarian God. We become, in the words of the Apostle Peter “partakers of the divine nature.” (2 Peter 1:4) That participation will only be fully complete when we are with Him in the fullness of His embrace, in Resurrected Bodies in a New Heaven and a New earth, but it begins now, in the grace of this present moment.

The beloved disciple John became prayer. He writes in the letter he penned in his later years: “See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope based on him makes himself pure, as he is pure. Everyone who commits sin commits lawlessness, for sin is lawlessness” (1John 3:1-4)

As we “become prayer” our daily life becomes the field of choice and we are capacitated to choose the “more excellent way” of love of which the great Apostle Paul wrote. (1 Cor. 13) Pondering the implications of the exercise of our human freedom becomes a regular part of our life, as we learn to “examine our conscience”, repent of our sin and become joyful penitents. Prayer provides the environment for such recollection as it exposes the darkness and helps us surrender it to the light of Love, the Living God dwelling within us.

“Becoming prayer” is possible for all Christians, no matter their state in life or vocation, because God holds nothing back from those whom He loves. This relationship of communion is initiated by Him. Our part is to respond. That response should flow from a heart that beats in surrendered love, in the process of being freed from the entanglements that weigh us down. The God who is Love hungers for the communion of sons and daughters – and we hunger for communion with Him – because He made us this way. Nothing else will satisfy. The early Church Father Origen once wrote: “Every spiritual being is, by nature, a temple of God, created to receive into itself the glory of God.”

We were made in the “image” of God and are now being recreated into His likeness in Jesus Christ. As we “become prayer’, that likeness begins to emerge. We give ourselves fully to the One who gave Himself to us and cry out with Jesus Christ “Abba Father.” No longer alienated, we participate in the inner life of God who now dwells within us. We also dwell in Him through His Spirit. This dwelling is prayer. It is not about doing or getting but about being, becoming, receiving, giving, and loving.

We will live the way we love and we will love the way we pray.
A wonderful spiritual writer of our own time, Henri Nouwen, understood the intimacy of prayer and the call to live in God. He wrote these words in his work entitled Lifesigns:

“Jesus, in whom the fullness of God dwells, has become our home by making his home in us he allows us to make our home in him. By entering into the intimacy of our innermost self he offers us the opportunity to enter into his own intimacy with God. By choosing us as his preferred dwelling place, he invites us to choose him as our preferred dwelling place. This is the mystery of the incarnation. Here we come to see what discipline in the spiritual life means. It means a gradual process of coming home to where we belong and listening there to the voice which desires our attention. Home is the place where that first love dwells and speaks gently to us. Prayer is the most concrete way to make our home in God.”

Let us learn to “become prayer”.

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Deacon Keith Fournier asks that you join with us and help in this vital mission by sending this article to your family, friends, and neighbors and adding our link (www.catholic.org) to your own website, blog or social network. Let us broadcast, we are PROUD TO BE CATHOLIC!

manny pacquiao vs. zoladex

“now the God of hope fill you with all the joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost.”  Romans 15:13  

 there’s no turning back now. daddy is finally in the forefront of the battlefield called cancer.  he is in the first line of painful attacks which began to radiate to his back now; all the way to those who care for him.  because when we realize that he is in pain, we can almost feel his suffering too.   perhaps not in physical terms.  nonetheless, it is way too consuming.  it slowly eats away whatever courage we have gathered. 

 they say cancer is a painful disease.  i know that it is. but how painful can it possibly be? i guess even those who are afflicted cannot exactly equate with words.  daddy is already old and weak.  the doctors said it is no longer advisable for him to undergo surgery.  so we’re left with lesser options, yet relatively effective as well. 

 in this corner, is Manny Pacquiao. 

 so how did he got into the middle of this fierce battle that is my dad’s?  first of, there’s no longer any need to explain who manny pacquiao is, what with his 7  boxing titles and millions of dollars not to mention his new diamond studded belt.  likewise, we’ve already heard how every time manny pacquiao had major fights abroad, the Philippines experience zero crime rate.  and how ironic that during his fights, the nation unites as one solid pinoy country. YOU KNOW (that’s manny’s famous line)

 

Manny Pacquiao

yesterday was no exception. every filipino in every corner of the archipelago and the world as well, was glued to the tv, internet or radio, if not that fortunate enough to sit on the ringside, to witness every punch thrown and received by pacman.  daddy was that filipino.  he never missed any pacman bout on tv, and i can say he is really a fan.  but yesterday was special.  aside from the usual peace that a pacquiao fight brings, manny brought into our family something more precious than money can buy.  as daddy watched manny’s fight, daddy forgot he has a fight of his own.  mommy said, it was as if his pain was gone.  i recall the times past when he would watch with such eagerness and excitement.  i can just imagine how manny brought my daddy back to his old self;  when he was young and well, even if for just 12 rounds.  and for that, i salute you manny.

in the other corner is Zoladex.   

 “zoladex relieves some symptoms of  advanced prostate cancer in men and advanced breast cancer in premenopausal women.  it reduces the levels of testosterone in men and estrogen in women.  the hormones mentioned are said to encourage the growth of certain cancers. ” – from www.healthsquare.com

 

zoladex

“The following adverse events were reported in greater than 1%, but less than 5% of patients treated with ZOLADEX 10.8 mg implant every 12 weeks. Some of these are commonly reported in elderly patients. 

 WHOLE BODY – Abdominal pain, Back pain, Flu syndrome, Headache, Sepsis, Aggravation reaction

CARDIOVASCULAR – Angina pectoris, Cerebral ischemia, Cerebrovascular accident, Heart failure, Pulmonary embolus, Varicose veinsDIGESTIVE – Diarrhea, HematemesisENDOCRINE – Diabetes mellitus HEMATOLOGIC – AnemiaMETABOLIC – Peripheral edemaNERVOUS SYSTEM – Dizziness, Paresthesia, Urinary retentionRESPIRATORY – Cough increased, Dyspnea, Pneumonia SKIN – Herpes simplex, PruritusUROGENITAL – Bladder neoplasm, Breast pain, Hematuria, Impotence, Urinary frequency, Urinary incontinence, Urinary tract disorder, Urinary tract infection, Urination impaired. ” – from www.rxlist.com

today, daddy will have his first zoladex implant.  based on the side effects noted, we fear that the worse is yet to come.  in fact,  the adverse events mentioned seem far more terrifying than the disease itself.  but if it’s any consolation it is said that “symptoms may actually get worse during the first few weeks of therapy. however, as hormone levels subside, the patient should begin to feel an improvement” – from www.healthsquare.com

whatever the outcome of daddy’s treatment, in three months he is scheduled for another implant.  we’re not sure also, if manny pacquiao will decide to fight anew in three months. but one thing is certain, zoladex and pacman brings hope to daddy.  momentary hope that lasts maybe for 12 rounds or three months.

but then again there is a hope that springs eternal.  and that hope is our Lord Jesus Christ, our Saviour… our Healer.  He is my daddy’s doctor. 

…comes another storm

“the Lord is my shepherd; i shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.  He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.  yea, though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death, i will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.  Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and i will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”  Psalm 23:1-6

ondoy, pepeng and ramil are out.  the biopsy and bonescan results are in.  and so is another “storm” in our lives.  it’s called metastasis (local name – cancer).

prostate biopsy

the day before that, on the CNN website, i had answered something like a quiz about how well do you know about cancer.  that was the first time i read about metastasis and briefly, what it meant.  so when my sister, ella, texted me that daddy’s prostatic tumor is malignant and that the results indicate metastatic neoplasma, i already knew.

it was no longer a surprise.  i’ve only seen a couple of photos taken of daddy.  that was in September, their 44th wedding anniversary and he had just gone out of the hospital.  it was kinda depressing to see how his health deteriorated so suddenly.  his physique was naturally lean.  so you could just imagine how really thin he’d become and how sad his eyes were, which convey the pain that he felt.  yes, that picture painted a thousand words.

there were already too many stories that were told about how cancer affects the lives of the ones afflicted and those who love them as well.  one can just imagine the suffering, the anguish, the sorrow and the hopelessness.  but when it hit close to home, the stories become real, and it feels like you’re hearing the stories for the very first time.

the first month that daddy had fallen ill and was told he may have tumor in the prostate, we were all in denial.  maybe there was some mistake.    the next phase for us was optimism.  maybe after the biopsy and the bonescan, the doctors will find that the tumor was only benign.  or perhaps, absolutely 100%  gone.  but no. it was malignant and the cancer cells had already spread. 

at this point, we’re trying to wake up from this nightmare.  but in the morning after, there should only be acceptance, because there is nothing that happens that God did not will it.  the good things and the bad.  the happy and the sad.  at the end of the day, we shall find comfort in the truth that all of us are destined, at a time that He appointed to leave this temporary abode where our physical beings dwell.

as we fight this one last battle for daddy,  we choose to see the beauty of life amidst the raging attack of cancer cells.  and while we are ready to accept daddy’s fate as an absolute surrender to the will of God, we still continue to hope and pray.

there can be miracles…if we believe.

Pope Benedict the XVI on “All Saints Day”

10/30/2009

Catholic Online (www.catholic.org)

‘With great joy, we celebrate today the feast of All Saints. Each is different from the others, with the uniqueness of their own personality and their own spiritual charism’

 

On this day let us revive in ourselves an attraction toward Heaven that calls us to carry on in our earthly pilgrimage. Let us lift in our hearts the desire to always unite ourselves to the family of the saints, of which we already have the grace to be a part.
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ROME (Catholic Online) – The feasts of “All Saints” and “All Souls” are celebrated as Holy days and the “offices” which report the news from the Holy see are closed. We present the 2008 Homily of our beloved Holy father, Pope Benedict XVI and will present his homily for this year after the Holy Days:

Pope Benedict XVI ON “All Saints Day”

Dear brothers and sisters!

With great joy, we celebrate today the feast of All Saints. Visiting a nursery garden, one remains taken aback at the variety of plants and flowers, and spontaneously begins to think of the Creator’s fantasy that made the earth a marvelous garden. These same sentiments come to us when we consider the spectacle of holiness: the world appears to us as a “garden,” where the Spirit of God has sustained with remarkable wonder a multitude of saints, male and female, from every age and social condition, of every tongue, people and culture.

Each is different from the others, with the uniqueness of their own personality and their own spiritual charism. All, however, were marked by the “seal” of Jesus, the imprint of his love, witnessed upon the Cross. All now are at joy, in a feast without end as, like Jesus, they reached this goal across toil and trial, each one encountering their share of sacrifice to participate in the glory of the resurrection.

The solemnity of All Saints became recognized in the course of the first Christian millenium as a collective celebration of the martyrs. Already, in 609, Pope Boniface IV had consecrated the Pantheon in honor of the Virgin Mary and All the Martyrs. But this martyrdom could be interpreted in a wider sense, that of loving Christ without reserve, a love expressed in the total gift of oneself to God and one’s brothers and sisters.

This spiritual measure, to which all the baptized are called, is accomplished in following the way of the evangelical beatitudes, that the liturgy offers to us on today’s solemnity. It’s the same path traced by Jesus and that the saints pushed themselves to follow, always aware of their human limits. In their earthly existence, in fact, they were poor in spirit, pained by their sins, myths, starved of and thirsting for justice, merciful, pure of heart, peacemakers, persecuted for righteousness’ sake. And God himself gave them a share in his own happiness: previewed in this world and, in the hereafter, enjoyed in its fullness. They are now consoled, have inherited the earth, are sated, pardoned, see the God whose children they are. In a word: “theirs is the Kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:3,10).

On this day let us revive in ourselves an attraction toward Heaven that calls us to carry on in our earthly pilgrimage. Let us lift in our hearts the desire to always unite ourselves to the family of the saints, of which we already have the grace to be a part. As a celebrated “spiritual” song says: “When the saints go marching in, oh how I’d want, Lord, to be in their number!”

May this beautiful aspiration burn in all Christians and help them to surpass every difficulty, every fear, every tribulation! Let us place, dear friends, our hand in the maternal one of Mary, Queen of All Saints, and let ourselves be led by her toward our heavenly homeland, in the company of the blessed spirits “of every nation, people and language.” And let us unite ourselves in prayer already recalling our dear departed ones who we’ll commemorate tomorrow.

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Deacon Keith Fournier asks that you join with us and help in this vital mission by sending this article to your family, friends, and neighbors and adding our link (www.catholic.org) to your own website, blog or social network. Let us broadcast, we are PROUD TO BE CATHOLIC!

after the storm

“And Jesus said to him, ‘Go your way; your faith has made you well.’  And immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.”  Mark 10:52

barely a  month has passed, but three typhoons; Ondoy, Pepeng and Ramil,  had already wreaked havoc and devastation in most parts of Luzon.  many lost their homes, personal belongings, livelihoods and some, even their loved ones.  while it was heart-wrenching to watch on television the suffering and anguish of  typhoon victims even after the onslaught, it was on the other hand, heart-warming to realize that most responded to the call over and beyond what was necessary.  for those of us who were not directly affected, but knew one or two whose lives would never be the same again, we can only emphatize, for sometime in our lives, an Ondoy or a Pepeng, or Ramil had ravaged us and reduced us to near hopelessness.

in the gospel of Mark, there was a story of a blind beggar, Bartimae’us, the son of   Timae’us.  He sat by the roadside and when Jesus came, he cried out “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  many rebuked him, but he cried out all the more.  when Jesus heard him, he called Bartimae’us and asked him what he wanted Jesus to do to him.  Bartimae’us said “Master, let me receive my sight!”  and Jesus said to him “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” and immediately Bartimae’us received his sight and followed Jesus on the way.

when the typhoons hit the nation one after the other, we had seen miracles unfold before our very eyes.  amidst the destruction and fear, ordinary people transformed into extraordinary heroes; saved lives and property, notwithstanding the risks against their own personal safety.  for this reason, most victims are still alive and are now ready to start again.

after each trial that come, when there seem to be no hope in sight, we often see the God’s hand working mysteriously in our lives.  he is the strength that keep us going, and the spirit that motivates us to go on further.  but are we like Bartimae’us who went to the right direction after he regained his eyesight? did the typhoons in our lives led us to move on to the path to which they were intended for us take? or did we just basked in the Lord’s grace for that one  saving moment, only to step back when the moment faded because our old, crooked self snatches our lifted spirits back to the pit where we came from?

did we clog our rivers with garbage? did we throw trash to our seas? did cut down trees until our once majestic mountains are reduced to now pathetic moulds of loose soil? did we use plastic unsparingly because we don’t have a better choice? did we construct structures in our waterways so that rainfall would have no other way to go but our own homes? did we ever think about what’s best for our environment, or our natural resources perhaps over our own comfort zone and convenience?  if we answered yes to any of these questions, then maybe why we experienced what we just gone through are truly of our own doing. 

 the Lord allows some bad things to happen in our lives if only to wake us up and open our eyes to what should be.  are we still the same after the storm? did we remain blind to the rape of our natural resources?  or are we the Bartimae’us of today, who after we regained our sights, decide to follow the right path.

after the storm, let us open our eyes and see the message that was addressed to us.   the floods just showed us where we are headed.  do we go to that direction? or do we open our eyes and follow Jesus on the way?

my guardian angel in disguise

 

“behold, I send an angel before you, to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place which I have prepared.  Give heed to him and hearken to his voice, do not rebel against him, for he will not pardon your transgression; for my name is in him.”  Exodus 23: 20-21

  

my daughter megan, went through a most terrifying experience last friday as typhoon pepeng entered the Philippine area of responsibility.  this happened just barely a week after typhoon ondoy wrought havoc and devastation mostly in the nation’s capital and nearby provinces where laguna is strategically located.  what you’re about to read is just one among too many actual stories of suspense and horror, of  inspiration and hope,  from the kindness that is innate in every human being.  the kindness that shines brightest during the darkest of times.

the wrath of ondoy

 

in her facebook account, megan writes:

 

My guardian angel in disguise

Yesterday at 7:51pm

 

If you happened to see my Friday update, you would know about the traumatic experience I had that day.

I find it ironic in a way. I was excited to get home and log in to my ever-dearest social network, which is of course, Facebook, to blog about my exciting and crazy week.

Bottom line: The last part was tragic and definitely it’s not the perfect ending for a fun-filled week.

Good news is, nobody got hurt, I’m still alive and I can still do this right now.

I decided to go home early because of  Pepeng. On my way home, my parents called me because Mommy (my granny) already told them it was raining really hard in Balian. They asked me if I’m still in LB because if I am, I’d better not go home. But then I was on my home already at that moment, so they just told me to take care. The rain wasn’t pouring that hard until I reached Sta. Cruz. As I get closer to home, the rain poured harder and the floods were getting worse. I started to get nervous when we were in Lumban. I never experienced an actual flood, or even seen it. The wind was blowing so hard and it was starting to get dark. The floods had risen up to knee level in Kalayaan and the worst part was when we reached Longos.

flood caused by ondoy

Vehicles found it hard to move on with winds blowing and rains pouring harder and harder. Finally, the vehicles stopped when people shouted “Atras na! Atras na!” Of course! I started to panic, quietly. I was petrified! I couldn’t move! And then I had another phone call. It was my parents, they asked me where I was and then at that moment I started to cry. I tried to answer them, trying to hide that I was actually crying. On that very instance, it happened. A landslide, right before our very eyes. It was the first time I saw something like that. I know what I’ve seen on TV were worse but I couldn’t think straight! I couldn’t focus! Nanay kept on telling me on the phone: “Calm down. Don’t panic.” But then my phone battery would be depleted any sooner so I told them.

 

I know that the young man in front of me kept on watching me as I tried to hide I was crying. But I also kept on ignoring him. Maximum tolerance, I suppose. People inside the jeep started to make phone calls. “May landslide!”… “Stranded kami dito sa Longos.” The two of us seemed to be the only people who were quiet at that time. But I can’t help it. I just kept on crying. The sight of those dreadful incidents: Landslides, one at the time… People trying to get out of their vehicles, people trying to get out-of-the-way, people trying to warn the others. I was so afraid.

 

But this young man in front of me, kept on watching me. As we waited inside, several thoughts kept running through my mind. Worst-case scenario: I wrote down contact numbers, Mommy’s and Tita Avit’s, my parents’ so if we’d spend the night, I could borrow a phone to tell them I’m alright. And then I was able to appreciate my carefree weekend nights, how I would go downstairs just to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner. I was lucky enough to experience all that. But how about the people who suffered because of typhoon Ondoy? How about even those people who experience this every single day?

When there seemed to be no landslide to occur anymore, people tried to decide whether they should walk their way through it, because vehicles couldn’t move on anymore. Without further discussions, they started to empty the jeepney. The only ones who were left was me and this strange young man. I still was crying! “What am I an idiot? I’m not getting out!,” I said to myself. I’m scared of falling debris. I’m scared there might be another one. I couldn’t get out. But then, his presence made me feel that I should get out. He asked me “Hindi ka ba lulusong?” I stared at him. My face was blank. I was crying really hard. But then he said, “Wala kasi akong dalang payong eh.” I was holding mine at that time. Without thinking, I answered “Sige po.”

chest-deep flood

We immediately got out of the jeepney and with the sight of the tragedy, I grabbed his arm. I was scared as hell. What a catastrophe. We walked through everything along with the others who were stranded. He tried to make me calm by starting a very casual conversation. “Kanina ka pa umiiyak ah. Okay lang yan.” That’s the only time I was able to smile again. During our talks, I started to learn he’s not a Laguna-native. He’s heading off to Paete General Hospital to visit someone. It was his 2nd time to visit the place but the first time he did, he took the Rizal route. So now I understand. He was new to everything here. He seemed to be a good person so I told him I’d take him to the hospital. Besides, he was taking care of me the time. It was surreal. Fear started to get out of the system as we continued to talk. And in no time, the rain poured lighter and lighter as we reached our destination. Trucks and rescuers came to the scene so we were somehow relieved.

The sight of the hospital was the most rewarding gift after all that. You know how people would seem on TV when they walked miles and miles in a desert and suddenly saw an oasis nearby? We looked like that, we came very close to that. It’s like we were brought back to life. It was a heavenly feeling for me, I don’t know if it was the same for him but pretty much it was too. All I saw was that big smile on his face. Just like that, I thank God we were able to put our smile on our faces again.

Yes. His name was Roy (How ironic. Friends, please don’t try to react, he’s not the same guy).
“Megan,” I replied when he asked me my name.

Before I left, I thanked him with all my heart.
How could you thank someone who just saved you from your worst nightmare?
To think that if he did not convinced me to get out of the jeepney, I’d stay there ’til morning!

I was fragile at that moment but then I’m glad someone came to me.

I felt secured, thanking God that there I was, riding on a jeepney once again on my way home, surely, no heavy rains, no brutal winds, no dreadful landslides. Everyone in the jeepney was smiling back then, telling their own stories about how they got through those incidents. As for me, I was thanking God endlessly, as I began to realize that Kuya Roy was just not a stranger who happened to take the same jeepney as mine, with no umbrella at all when the country’s expecting a typhoon coming. And then I smiled once again with the thought of how clever God has been by sending me a guardian angel.

THANK GOD! This is it. HOME. <3
Is it just the weather or am I just glad I’m home? I opened the gate with the sight of Mommy waiting on the front porch. And yes, I told them the entire story. They (Yes, daddy too) were all ears.

The phone rang and it was my parents. With their happiness, I could nearly imagine their faces smiling. They’re glad I made it home. I also told them my story but what I didn’t expect was the story they told me. That day, October 2, was the Memorial of Guardian Angels and they asked me if I met one.

Well, I just smiled as I said, “Yes.”

daddy’s fish flower plate

“If  a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone?  or if a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent?  Or if he shall ask an egg, will offer him a scorpion?  If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children:  how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?” Luke 11:11-13

when we were kids, my daddy manifested his love in the oddest way one could imagine.  whenever we had fish for our meal, he patiently removed the fishbones  and carefully rolled the fillet into small balls, then arranged them like petals on the edge of our plates so that they looked like huge flowers.

daddy is a relatively quiet and stiff kind of a man, especially when it comes to his way with us.  his kids.   we never heard him say anything nice to us.  well, that was if we hear anything at all.  he seldom spoke when he came home from work, and if he did, it was just to mommy. or to scold us because we sung during meal time.  or halt our non-stop kiddie  chatters. 

we were oftentimes, terrified to see him get angry,  because that would mean a date with the belt (and sometimes with the buckle too).  i remember how he used to slam me onto the bed and make my behind sore with spanking.  and boy! he spanked hard.  but as we grew older, the spanking stopped.  so did the scolding. and so too, the lesser we heard him utter a word.

daddy never set foot in any of our schools, nor watched any activity.  and sadly, he never even attended any of our graduations.  but although he was stingy in sharing himself,  he was generous in providing our material needs.  though it was only during the later years that i realized it was mommy who mastered the art to make both ends meet, our daddy maintained the atmosphere that we were kinda well-off.  whenever we asked, he gave. 

growing up, there was always a bit of envy, whenever we see other fathers’ pda (public display of affection) towards their children.  but even then,  i never took it against my daddy that he kept everything to himself.  i never doubted that he loved us.  and i never expected any more from him than he had already given. 

you can just imagine how relieved my siblings and i were that he was present during each of our weddings.  and when his  grandchildren were born, we were surprised that he kind of softened up.  the rate of his tenderness grew directly proportional to the number of kids that were added to our clan.  he displayed  tender, loving affection to our kids that somehow, my brother and sister felt that affection redirected towards us.   despite his outward manifestation when we were young, or the lack of it,  deep inside i knew my daddy was a loving man.  and though he had such difficulty to let his guard down with us, he couldn’t resist his grandchildren.  all his pent up emotions through the years just burst out like a dam, and love flowed out spontaneously, starting with megan and miguel.  then to bianca, ian, abby and bon2.  and of course, to igi boy.    he is now daddy to all his grandchildren.

a couple of weeks ago, daddy was diagnosed with a tumor in his prostate.  just to hear the word “tumor” would already make one cringe with fear.  and even more, when one already advanced in years has it.  so how much more when that one is so dear?  the first thing we did was pray.  and until now we continue on praying that it will go away and just disappear.   we wanted the best treatment and first-class hospital facilities for him.  but with our very limited resources, we’re afraid we have to settle for less.  we just hope and pray that the healing power of Jesus would ease his pain and suffering.  and if He wills it, my daddy would be free of the tumor absolutely.

but as hard as we pray that daddy would get well, there is a desire as strong in my heart to soften up too.  you see, i am my daddy’s daughter.  although being sweet and loving is an acquired habit which i tried very hard to learn through the years (pda’s towards my children are spontaneous with me now);  i could be as quiet and as stiff as he was too.  these are inherent traits that he passed on to me, and sadly i am just too  shy to publicly display my affection towards him considering the circumstances.  if i try hard, it wouldn’t be natural. and he would notice that.  and for sure, it would be an awkward and embarassing situation for both of us.  and i would not want to put him into that kind of emotional confusion.  not this time.  not with his condition.

the Lord used only one mold for each human being.  that is why we differ from one another entirely.  we should realize that it is in the acceptance of each other’s uniqueness that we shall be be able to live in harmony.   that is how i see our family now.  unique  human beings who blend together into a family of kaleidoscope personalities.

with this i try to forgive myself if i lack the theatrics in expressing my love to daddy.  when we come home for the holidays, and whenever we’ll have fish for our meal, i would just patiently remove the fishbones  and carefully roll the fillet into small balls, then arrange them like petals on the edge of daddy’s plate so that they looked like huge flowers.  then he will know…then  he will feel that i love him so.

invisible wall

“And He called the people to Him again and said to them ,”Hear me, all of you and understand:  there is nothing outside a man which by going into Him can defile him; but the things which come out of a man are what defile him…  For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness.  All these evil things come from within, and they defile a man.”  Mark 4:14-15, 21-23

there was this one gathering that we were invited to.  the notice was kind of impromptu so to speak.  it was already past my bedtime, but still we have to go,  if only because we have to drop our son off so he could spend time with his friends.  despite the other parents’ persistence over my mobile phone and bhoy’s subtle hints for me to get down from the car for a moment and say hi at least, i declined because i felt sick.  though as i look back, i am not sure now if it was for real or just imagined.  that was not the first time.  i have already excused myself on similar occasions many times before.  though at first, i thought i was able to get away with it.  but as i start to run out of excuses, i also began to question my motives.  maybe i’ve already pushed myself way deep into the abyss of extreme fear.  but what am i really scared of?

there were chapters in my life  when interactions with other people caused me so much pain.  intimate or otherwise, intentional or not, the memory would come and go, and would still hurt me as much.  subconsciously, as an instinct to defend myself from the probability of its recurrence, i built an invisible wall around me.  this wall provides a sense of security to know that nobody can no longer come in and hurt me again, unless i allow it.  so that if it happens again, it will be my entire fault because I let my guard down and let them sneak into my protected sanctuary and inflict pain on me… again. OUCH!

 sometimes it feels unfair to decline any invitation of friendship from new acquaintances, because that was when the hurting usually starts.  it is like cancer that slowly and silently ravages one single organ, and if it is no longer satisfied, moves to another, then another, until it spreads out to the whole system.  at that stage, no medications are effective enough to cure it.  and sadly, painkillers are just a moment’s comfort because they can no longer stop the pain entirely.  and that is worse than the disease itself.

 the wall that I built around me is selective.  my naive and vulnerable nature turns it into a sponge that absorbs any display of kindness and gentleness.  and in an instant, it can turn into a “makahiya“ which folds inward when touched or shaken.  it is an acquired instinct to over-protect myself now.  not only from predators lurking in the darker avenues, but warily from unfamiliar creatures which  disguise otherwise.

 call it instinct.  but sometimes it already seems like i’m just being paranoid.  and i really feel guilty after those excuses, because i know deep inside it is not fair.  especially to all who genuinely cares about me.  therefore i commit a grave injustice far greater than those who have hurt me.  not only am i depriving myself the warmth of human bonding, i also prevent others to get to know and understand me better.  instead, like a turtle who hides its head in its shell, i retreat into the innermost recesses of my solitude, because it is there that i feel safest.  or so i thought.

but truly, only God breaks down walls and opens new doors for natural order of things to find its course.  praise God for the power of His word.  for by His grace He made me realize that the madness that comes from without can do me no worse, than what i can do to myself.  and since i have no control of what’s to come,  i’ll be forever comforted by the reality that He will always protect me.

harsh realities of life.  even our Lord Jesus Christ, in all His power and glory, was not spared because He loves us so much.  pain and suffering are part of what makes us better persons.  and they don’t even come close to what our Lord was made to endure.  He offered his life totally and unconditionally, and we partake in His suffering by enduring our own.  and maybe too, if i offered my own, by sharing my self to others regardless of any suffering that it might bring,  His suffering would not have been in vain. 

i just pray that one day soon, in the name of Christ Jesus, i would be able to put into action what the Lord had just made me realize.  and my invisible wall would finally disappear, together with the foundation of pain from which it was built upon.

no limits

  “Six days do your work, but on the seventh day do not work, so that your ox and your donkey may rest and the slave born in your household, and the alien as well, may be refreshed”.  Exodus 23:12  

last saturday, my intense resolve to go to work was not able to overcome the weakness that i began to experience the night before.  i felt dizzy and whoozy.  and just too lame to even stand up for long, much more walk around.  you see, last thursday and friday, being weekend, i was up and about doing this and that at home. and friday night, i spent more than two hours ironing a week’s set of clothing for three.  no big deal really.  well maybe, when i was younger.  but since i turned forty almost three years ago, there were changes that most of the time, catch me by surprise.

busy bees

like last weekend.  one moment, i was okey.  the next, totally incapacitated.  o darn! i know these are signs of ageing. but combine it with hypertension, obesity and pre-menopausal symptoms (ha-ha!), how worst can it possibly get?  whereas before i read about beauty and fashion, lifestyle and entertainment, now tops on my must-read list are about health and well-being, alternative medicines, exercise and diet.

there are times that i feel bothered not to be able to do things that i need to, simply because of my physical limitations.  especially those that i was used to.  like moving cabinets and furniture around the house, lifting heavy boxes way beyond my own weight, not to mention iron clothes for more than two hours.  sometimes, i get frustrated that these are now past tense.  and the sooner i learn to accept it, the better for me to live in the present tense.  and better yet to move on towards future tense (ha-ha again!)

but come to think of it, even superheroes have their own weaknesses and limitations.  remember superman and kryptonite.  spiderman and his dark side.  achilles and his heel.  how about darna minus her bato (stone)?

so consider this.  i’m no superhero.  nor even a hero at all.  i’m just plain old me going through the motions of time, watching  my fountain of youth dry up by the minute.  the sooner i learn to accept that, the better i can see the wonders of old age.  besides, it is probably God’s way of telling me to stop, look and listen.

stop… to rest, recharge, rejuvenate, refresh.

look…to see the beauty of the world around me and be thankful for all i that i have, and maybe perhaps even those that i don’t.

listen… to that  voice from within;  God’s gentle voice which speaks to us moment to moment.  the same voice which soothes us… heals us… strengthens us…

but we are oftentimes deaf by choice.   we refuse to listen.  not even to our bodies which already beg us to stop, because it can no longer go on one more step further.  too busy with the dictates of our worldly clock that we burn out before we even know it. 

 i am now at my prime and i won’t let the hands of time keep me from doing what i still can.  because whenever i need to stop, i will.  and i will look and listen to what really matters.  and i know it does not always necessitate physical strength and stamina which is bounded by our humanity.  what we really need is love to share and time to do it.  how we do it is up to our imagination.  and that, my friend, knows no limits.