May 22, 2016. Today is my birthday. Coincidentally, my birthday falls on a Sunday—on the solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity. As God has gifted life to me, I will give thanks by offering my life as a gift to God.
Romans 5:1-5 (Second Reading)
This part of the Scripture tells us to boast of our afflictions. That runs contrary to our general upbringing, yes? We were taught that a person’s success in this world is measured by how many achievements he has from birth to death. How many cars… Which seat in office… How many properties… How much money… But after we achieve all the things our hearts and bodies desire, what then? Can anyone be truly satisfied by what they achieve?
But in our afflictions, we are given the opportunity to grow. “affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint” because it stems from the love of God that the Holy Spirit has made known to us.
I will boast, then, of my affliction.
I am a dreamer. Literally, not figuratively. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had countless nightmares, and my sins greatly increase my suffering. There was a point when I was tormented so severely several nights in a row that I had to meet with a lay minister from the Office of Exorcism of our local Archdiocese to determine whether I was possessed (or simply, mentally ill). I kept this from my mother because I did not want her worry. The lay minister determined that I wasn’t—praise God—but since I was sensitive to spirits (I had obtained obscure knowledge which led the minister to believe my experience was genuine) and was not in a state of grace, that I should confess and go to Mass faithfully, every Sunday.
The spirits, or demons, showed me many things. I’ve seen countless horrors enough to last me a lifetime, and yet I am only a quarter of a century old. The spirit world is a strange place; it will show you the truth, but more often than not, it will be veiled in allegory and symbolism.
I was once brought to an opulent estate, in a well-to-do neighborhood, where a party for God’s adversaries was taking place. They had taken me there against my will and would not release me until I invoked the name of Jesus Christ. You would not believe the sheer amount of will it took me to say His Name. My face felt numb, my jaw and my tongue were as heavy as marble. To this day, the feeling of powerlessness petrifies me. But, what could have happened if I did not say His Name?
Another time, I was taken to a stadium, which looked more like a slaughterhouse overflowing with blood. Demons of terrifying forms roamed the halls and tormented their captives. Their captives were people I knew, people who are still alive and who I encountered daily. I could not save anyone but myself. I ran out of the stadium and sealed the doors behind me with the blood of Jesus Christ. But even then, the doors of the stadium threw open and the legion said, “You cannot get rid of us that easily”. Suddenly, an army of good men and women came and threw themselves upon the doors. Many died, but the demons were contained.
Yet another time, I was pursued relentlessly by a demon and I sought refuge at an altar under a bridge, surrounded by sand. The altar was dedicated to Mother Mary and I pleaded with her to deliver me. A green rosary appeared in the sand, so that when the demon came and reached for me, I placed the rosary in his hand and he vanished.
Once in a while, I am gifted with good dreams.
I dreamt that I entered a newly-constructed room, all bare cement, with a long table and several chairs. On those chairs sat my colleagues and they were all asleep. Only one other person was awake with me; a dear friend. An elevator on the left side of the room opened, and Jesus stepped out, in his white robes and his leather sandals, and a briefcase in his hand. His hair is cropped shorter than what we usually see depicted in art. I wept at the sight of Him and knelt by His feet. For the remainder of the dream, I saw mostly his feet and the wounds in them. He comforted us and said that He was coming soon. With that, He left. Only then did our other colleagues wake.
I do not presume to be mystical, or charismatic, or whatever. Like I said, my sins cause me to suffer greatly, and only prayers keep the nightmares—which I still have—at bay; prayers of my own and those of my mother’s. Prayers of parents for their children are very powerful.
Proverbs 8:22-31 (First Reading)
This part of the Scripture says that wisdom can be found in everything, as God made everything with wisdom.
I do not know what wisdom my writing will bring to those who read it, if any… But the Gospel reading in John 16:12-15 said, “[the Spirit of Truth] will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming. He will glorify me, because he will take from what is mine and declare it to you.”
I have related the truth of my experience, in the hope of glorifying God. Do with it as you will.
"'And in the last days,' God says, 'I will pour out my spirit upon every sort of flesh, and your sons and your daughters will prophesy and your young men will see visions and your old men will dream dreams."
romaincrisis
jbbartram-illu
jacobvanloon