If I could choose my first artist to work with once I open my art gallery next month, I would want him to be Van Gogh. An unrecognized, yet talented, and sensitive soul whose passion is so intense that it spills all over for the world to see.
It spills from his mouth. You can tell by the way he speaks. He talks like his mouth is on fire and he does not stop chattering. He will fill my space with his gibberish words and I would not stop him from talking. I would listen.
His restless heart is reflected in his restless eyes. His passion is there in his eyes to behold. But the strongest message is his energy. With such strong current flowing in his heart, enough to threaten the stability of his mind, he would tell me everything about himself that I need to know without using any words. I would know the creative power that lies in him. I would see his talent. But for now, just to calm down his overflowing heart, I would offer him a hot cup of tea.
And if the same pure passion from his heart is reflected on his canvas, if the emotions of his very soul is communicated through his choice of colors and techniques, and if the voice of the vision he depicted on the canvas is yelling and screaming “Life!”, then without a second thought, I would have faith in his works. I would know the painting would offer a clear vision, a clear voice, and a clear call to those in need of clarification, healing, and understanding. I would know that his painting has the supernatural power to reach out to the heart of another soul.
Through the medium of art, hearts will be connected. A communication will blossom and the still water will stagnate no more. New water will flood in, breathing new life into the heart of the lonely.
One painting at a time, the artist and the art lover will find their way back to love.
One heart at a time, all souls will find their way back to the light.
If you follow the messages from Holy Love Ministry, then you will be familiar with “Jesus is here with his heart exposed.”
I have to be honest. It took me a long while to get used to that phrase. I think the media has corrupted the word ‘expose’ as it does all things, and we tend to associate that word with something downgrading. We don’t normally expect to come across ‘Jesus’ and ‘expose’ in the same sentence.
Jesus is here with his heart exposed.
I’ve always thought ‘reveal’ would make a better choice. Because we often hear that Jesus reveals the truth of the heart. Jesus reveals the sins of the world. Jesus is here with his heart revealed.
But exposed? Personally, I thought that choice of the word makes it sounds too provocative. Until now. Until I came to associate that word with my panic attacks.
Once you have a panic attack, you feel like you are walking around with your heart exposed. Any minor events will upset your heart. You get easily distressed, and things go crashing down very fast triggering more full-blown panic attacks. After the first one, the second one is a matter of time. Once you have the second one, the third war is sure to be had. Before you know it, you are sucked into the whirlwind of panic attack episodes. Eventually, it boils down to one thing. You panic about having panic attacks. The destructive vortex viciously sucks you in, until you break free from the whirlwind.
Exposed heart is an easy target, and it is the vulnerability at its full capacity. Don’t touch my heart, don’t even get near my heart, I am shouting inside, and I shield myself away from any conflicts, any tensions visible and invisible, afraid that if I don’t take cautionary steps, all will break loose and I will be panting on the ground which is not a very attractive sight.
But here comes Jesus with His heart exposed. Not only that, He comes with a message to share. He shares His Holy Love through His exposed heart. His love and compassion pours out from His heart with the power of a strong current of a magnificent waterfall.
And the Love falls down on us. The drops of His precious blood and water baptizes our innermost being, our very soul, where only He can touch. A place set a part, reserved for God alone is visited by the one whose heart is exposed. With His exposed heart, He heals my exposed heart full of anxiety and burden. The power of the connection between the two hearts. Two hearts exposed to merge as one. The crossroad where the divinity and the humanity overlap. The perfect eclipse of the two Love; the Divine Love for a human soul, and a human love for the Divine. A fearfully orchestrated opera, a transformative epic drama, a mysterious encounter.
Before I went to bed last night, I wrote “Clarification Day!” in my calendar under the next day’s date. When your very heart is exposed to the point of collapsing, know this. Your desperate heart is about to tell you something with its entire existence stripped naked. If you choose to listen, then your heart will whisper in a very quiet voice that it is time to get down to the Truth.
So I tell myself, don’t panic. Because the Mighty one whose heart is exposed is at my side holding my soul. Dark clouds are gathering outside. I am walking out to my new shop to put up some window coverings. Unanswered prayers are desperately seeking for its answers, the call for patience is as persistent as ever, faith is withering, confusion and anxiety build up, up and up, and the switch is on, and the fire is ignited. But don’t panic. All will be well. Peace be with you. Angels and Saints are with you. Blessed Mother is with you. I am praying for you– with my heart exposed.
Oh, the power of words. How clarifying everything looks when we see through the eyes of Jesus. Through His exposed heart, all things find its place and upon gazing the beauty within the heart of Jesus… all fears suddenly vanish.
If you refuse medical treatment like me, then the best cure for panic attack is crying and sleeping. You literally cry and sleep your way out of the acute pain in your heart, the tightness around your chest, and the heaviness of your brain. Crying is a biological response to the need for chemical release. We release stress hormones when we cry. We excrete tears as we sweat and urine. Just as sweat removes excess salts from the body and cools us down, tears also have a biological purpose. The only problem is; you don’t pee in your pants. And you don’t cry in the public.
When tears gush forth as a natural response after my panic attack episode, it’s not easy for me to go to Mass. I always get emotional during the service even in the perfectly healthy state. I didn’t know if my body was capable of receiving the divine movement of the Holy Spirit, but skipping Mass is never an option.
As predicted, I cried the entire time during Mass. A very nice elderly lady was sitting next to me, and sensing my tears, she gave me a big smile and warm hand squeeze. And surprisingly, I received something that even my parents or my sister could not provide. I received the power of understanding from that momentary consolation of a stranger sitting next to me in the church. Her deep understanding was there even though she had no knowledge of why I was crying. She didn’t question, she didn’t add anxiety to my already burdened heart by worrying. She knew nothing about me. All she knew was that I was distressed for a reason that is unknown to her, and that I was being consoled and healed by the power of the Holy Spirit. All she did was giving me a warm smile, and covering my cold hand with her warm, soft, wrinkly hand. But the interaction between us was so out of this world. She had power to reach out to me in the most deepest way. And I knew that it was the miracle of the Holy Sprit working through her.
During the Holy Communion, I was surprised to receive two pieces of bread. I wondered for a minute if it was intentional or a simple mistake by my priest. I sensed my priest noticing my tears during his sermon. But is this permissible? Giving two pieces or more to those who appear to be in a spiritually weak state? Is this like prescribing extra dosage? I had no way of knowing whether it was intentional or not, but I was beyond grateful. I needed those. I think I would have gulped down the entire bowl of communion bread if I could.
I left the church and started driving back home. I noticed that a Subaru Outback was cruising right in front of my vehicle. Strangely, the same model in different color was guiding my way to the church on my way to the Mass. That reminded me of my friend E in Hawaii-for she drives Subaru Outback-, who was like a sister to me while I was living on the island alone. E always came to my rescue when I had panic attacks on the island. She took me home on those shattered days of my life. I felt her spirit guiding me. I knew it was God’s way of letting me know, “You are not alone as you think you are.” I know dear friends love me. I know my family loves me. I know God loves me enough to send me His own Son.
I wrote in the book of prayer before leaving the church something that I have never prayed before. I wrote, “God you know my heart. Heal my loneliness.” Just those simple words.
I don’t know what the bottom line is under my recurring panic attack eisodes. I can trace back, and find out so many reasons based on mental, spiritual, and biological reasons. But the truth is, I am desperately lonely. Here, I face another unknown ocean, and I am about to embark on another sailing journey. Though I know God will be with me always, and sail this boat with me as my caption, there is a deep desire in me for another passenger, to ride this out together, someone to share this journey with.
‘You are having a moment of weakness.’, I hear a small voice in me whispering in my ear. Somehow, I do not like the tone of that voice. I know it is not telling me the truth. The truth is that I am having a moment of humanness. I am a voice in the wilderness crying out to God saying, Holy, my God. Hold me, your child.
And hold me, he does. He more than holds me. He upholds me.
On the drive back home from the Mass, all I could think about was how glad I was to be alive. For just being alive, is a blessing.
I will follow you through green pastures And sing hallelujah to your name I will follow you through dark disaster And sing hallelujah through the pain
Even in the shadow of death I will praise Even in the valley I will say
Holy, my God You are worthy of all my praise Holy, my God You are worthy of all my praise
8:30 AM. I am at the bar. I feel my temperature dropping quickly, as my shaking body is about to collapse. It happens so fast, as it always does. Panic attack takes on a life of its own and things collapse at a mind-numbing speed. Before things go even worse, I stop everything and run to the back room. But it was too late. The full-blown panic attack has already began.
Five minutes later. The paramedics arrive. I am flat on the floor shivering. The paramedic fireman arrives with his co-worker around 50. The younger man, in his 30′s, sits down by my side looking down at me with a very concerned look. “Are you okay? What’s happening here?” I open my eyes. And wow. They sent me a very hot looking paramedic.
Another 10 minutes pass. I finally gather myself and leave the cafe to go out to the ambulance car for him to check my vitals. He wraps the pad around my arm to check my blood pressure, and my still lifeless hand falls on top of his thigh. I am surprised by my own reaction and quickly remove my hand. “You can leave your hand there. Let you hand rest.”, he says. And what I heard was “You can leave your heart there. Let your soul rest.” If I saw God today, right at that moment, I think those are exactly the words He would tell me. You can leave your heart here permanently now. You are home. You are safe now. I’ve got you. Let your soul rest.
Unfortunately, the time comes for me to say goodbye to the tall, strong, masculine, and handsome paramedic. He had nothing more to do for this medication refusing panic attack sufferer. I come home and drift into a long, long nap. I wake up and go to see my Beloved at the Adoration.
There, I read this in the book “My Life with the Saints(James Martin, SJ)”
Nothing is more practical than
finding God, than
falling in Love
in a quite absolute, final way.
What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination, will affect everything.
It will decide
what will get you out of bed in the morning,
what you do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read, whom you know,
what breaks your heart,
and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
Fall in Love, stay in love,
and it will decide everything.
- Fr. Pedro Arrupe
This afternoon, nothing was more practical than finding God, seeking Him, adoring Him, falling in Love in an absolute, final way. This afternoon, after the panic attack went through my body once again, I had nothing more practical to do than going to the Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. I walked up closer to the altar, knelt in front of the beautiful image of the Divine Mercy and I cried my heart out. I let my soul cry. ‘You can leave your soul here. Let your heart rest. Let your mind rest. Let your body rest.’ I told myself so. And I did. I let my entire being rest, there, at the bottom of the altar.
In the safety of His strong heart from where water and blood gushed forth for the souls, I let go of my soul and spirit. My spirit quickly flew to Him, and I knew, that Love has decided everything in that moment of surrender.
No one, and nothing can invade your inner space. Let nothing disturb you. Let nothing shatter your peace. Learn to maintain the peace you have. It’s as easy as breathing. If you can maintain your breath, you can maintain your peace. If God who gives life gives you breath, then He who gives peace will also grant you His peace. He will give you all good things that come from Him. But you must do one thing: Praying. Asking.
On this sixth day of Novena to the Holy Spirit for the Seven Gifts, we pray for the gift of understanding.
“Understanding, as a gift of the Holy Spirit, helps us grasp the meaning of the truths of our holy religion. By faith we know them, but by understanding we learn to appreciate and relish them. It enables us to penetrate the inner meaning of revealed truths and through them to be quickened to newness of life. Our faith ceases to be sterile and inactive, but inspires a mode of life that bears eloquent testimony to the faith that is in us; we begin to “walk worthy of God in all things pleasing, and increasing in the knowledge of God.(source: ewtn.com)”
Draw all things through prayer, experience the power of the Holy Spirit, and your life will never be the same. You will have more than peace. You will have understanding. You will have Eternal life here on earth. Some are already living it. So what’s stopping you from joining the eternally blissful spirits and dwell in the Lord’s happiness?
Is there anything more sentimental than the late afternoon sun? The lonesome glow, lingering yet ever so slowly leaving, it does something to my heart. Tears gather for no reason, or for so many reasons, and I don’t know which is true. I can name a few that make me grieve, but this late evening, I try my best to cast away those sentimental thoughts. This week, many things are happening. This week, many things are still left unanswered. This week comes with no certain promise, no real progress, but like the setting sun that appears to be lingering yet leaving constantly, I know things will slowly unfold as I go through Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and finally, Sunday. I can’t wait for Sunday. I can’t wait to be called to worship at the house of God. When can I go and stand before him?
“As the deer longs for streams of water,
so I long for you, O God.
I thirst for God, the living God.
when can I go and stand before him?
Day and night I have only tears for food,
while my enemies continually taunt me, saying,
“Where is this God of yours?(Psalm 42:1-3)”
We were only a few hours away from each other since my ex-husband has moved to New York, yet we have not tried to meet up. He is busy with work, with his life. He is trying to move on, and I must honor his choice. This week, he is moving again off to where his job is taking him. We will be 2000 miles away from each other, and I know that this move of his will end things between us for good. It ended long ago. I shouldn’t linger. I should let go, and stop this grieving. It has been long enough.
Something about the late afternoon atmosphere always reminds me of monastery. I remember the great peace, and the unending consolation I have receive at the monastery. This afternoon, I have that thought again, that chronic yearning that will probably linger in my soul until the day I stand before God. In my mind, I still wish that I could join the order and become a sister. Especially so, when I read prayers at Vespers every evening. It’s the only thing that keeps my nightly blues away. But my bipolar isn’t going anywhere, and my medical condition will join the monastery along with me. It doesn’t take the world’s best psychiatrist to help me understand that monastery may not be the best place for me. I know that. Sister Barbara knows that. And I also know that God knows what’s best for me, my bipolar and my daily mood swings; high in the morning and low at night, sometime unbearably, and sometimes comfortably.
“Why am I discouraged?
Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
I will praise him again–
my Savor and my God!(Psalm 42:5)”
My day was long and laborious, filled with occasional hurts and forced interactions. The good news is that I am able to get through my morning because of my heightened mood. You won’t find anyone happier than I am. The power of my laughter and my radiating joy will sweep you up and take you for a flight to join me where I am, in the high dwelling place full of emotional highs. Nothing can hurt me. I am too absorbed in my own happiness.
The even better news is that I am able to get through my afternoon and evening blues with the help of my family and close friends. I accompany my sister who loves me dearly on her outing. I sit in the passenger seat while she drives and I admire the bustling Rockville; its liveliness and the sophisticated city life style. When I am just visiting the city, it all seems positively life-giving. Nothing lifts up my mood like finding a great deal on pretty books at a giant bookstore. Nothing strengthens our sisterly love like trying on dresses in the fitting room at a clothing shop. In my heart, the darkness was evident. I knew where it had descended from: my brain. But no matter what my brain was making me feel, my soul knew better. I may be sad, but I am more wiser than I am sad.
Any night that ends with Vespers’s reading is the night to die for. Everything is so well with my soul, and truly, I would have no reason to linger here on earth if I died tonight. If the Lord calls me tonight, it is well with my soul. But it is my Lord’s decision, not mine. Come tomorrow, if he grants me with another day here on earth, I shall praise him for his majesty and join the birds to sing songs of joy when the morning comes.
“But each day the Lord pours his unfailing love upon me,
The good outcome of faith is written in the bible, in both Testaments. Before and after, then and now, yesterday and today, faith holds us together, keeps us afloat, and helps us keep moving on. It gives us the life … Continue reading →
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”
* * *
Before the clock hits 9 o’clock, I hit the bed and close my eyes.
I hug my stuffed pink lamb close to my chest. I know I’m too old for this. But hey, I’m just being me.
In my ears, Silent Night is sung by Bon Jovi. It’s the one they performed live in Cincinnati, 1987. I had this cassette tape when I was a high school kid. I listened to this track so much that it got damaged before I was even out of high school. I had to throw it away. It was a tough goodbye. But thank God for this Youtube era.
Life has improved.
In so many ways.
I feel especially blessed to be able to listen to this song as I try to fall asleep, though it reminds me of many unfortunate events.
Many lovers are realizing their love has died tonight. Many are saying their bitter goodbyes, forced by the turn of events, misled by some imprudent choices. Tonight, many will be left lonely. Again.
And tomorrow, many will move on and start anew. They won’t wait 5 years to start again like I did.
A pink lamb won’t fill in the void left in their hearts by the love long gone. I know it won’t do the trick. I’m not hugging the pink lamb because I miss those snuggly nights with my husband when I was happily married. I’m only feeding my childhood that was left unfulfilled.
Did I ever grow up?
Or am I just an illusion of aging?
I live in the shadow of this foreign woman the ID card identifies as a 32 year old being. I have long, straight black hair and occasional sad eyes, and a big smile on my face trying my best to be cheery. But inside, I’m only a little child.
I am just a little girl who likes to roam around the green fields. I like holding someone’s strong hand that guides me while I walk. I like running in the rain screaming and shouting my unbridled joy. And I like to sit pretty in my flowery yellow dress and daydream about my future with a king, a queen and a prince.
But the first memory that comes to mind when it rains like tonight is always the memory of me running to a nearby Catholic church on the first week in Hawaii. I ran through the pouring rain in my yellow summer dress, and in my cheap flip-flops, and I stood in front of the Mother Mary shrine, and all I said was, ” Thank you.. thank you.. thank you…”
