Have you; even for once in your life have experienced Divine intervention? Or have you tried challenging God to give you a sign especially so when you are at a verge of fear to decide on something, whether you are doing the right choice or not?
I have. Not just once but many times in my life.
Don't I feel ashamed of what I do because it is as if I am putting to the test the existence of a more powerful being than I am? Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. Isn't it that even Jesus himself tried to seek a sign from the Father when his death was nearing but in the end, he humbly said, "Let thy will be done."?
And so that's what I do, too. I knock and I hope for a positive response from the Father to open His door for my intentions.
Why am I telling all these stuff?
It is because of that "Not so highly qualified!" thing I am still worried about. It really bothers me you know. It is as if my dreams and plans are evaporating into thin air before my very eyes. Even when I said I don't hope much and that I just let the opportunities come and grab them if they do, in my heart, I know that this is the only hope I have not to let my children experience the same conditions I had as a child, as a growing teenager, as a student, as an adult and as a mother. Whatever these are, they involve painful experiences (traumatic in more ways than one) with financial difficulties as a source of or an off-shoot to something and of something. Most Filipinos know what I am talking about. I need not expand.
Divine intervention. No doubt it is there. I only falter to believe its existence. But every now and then He reminds me He is just there.
Let me count the ways. The night before I left for Manila to attend the seminar, I had a dream. A little bit vague. It was my mother. I remembered my brother's line when I almost forgot Mama's birthday last September 11, her 51st supposed to be. Yamoj said, Mama might visit me. In Tagalog, mumultuhin daw ako ni Mama. I shrugged away the thought. But indeed she did, not to scold me though, but to encourage me to pursue my dreams. How did I say that? In my dream I heard her (actually I said my dream was vague because I didn't really see her face, but I felt it was her because of the gentleness of her voice and the feel she left in my heart) telling me that I should not give up. And that I have to be patient, something to that effect. She also mentioned some numbers I wasn't sure of and what is it all about. If these numbers were lottery winning numbers or what?! Geeezzzzz!!! But some angel whispered me, it is a sign.
I woke up crying a bit and pushed through as planned without clarity whatsoever about my dream. Then again, while I was packing my things, my husband and I had a little disagreement on what I am going to wear (which I already mentioned in CBAnata 4). I said my casual jeans are okay but he wants me to wear something formal (which I later on followed, of course he won me out again with his arguments) because if I did, I wouldn't have a coat. Day before, I texted my aunt, borrowing a coat of cream, black or brown hues since the only slacks I have is of these shades. But unfortunately, she wasn't able to lend me one. Or so I thought. Because before I boarded the bus to Manila, their van was in front the bus and she was frantically waving the coat out the window. In short, I had a coat. I counted to myself, second sign.
While in the bus, I recalled my dream. Thinking my butt out what the numbers really meant. I even can't remember what numbers were mentioned though I know there were. Again, I heard a small voice playing in my head telling me that the numbers were seventeen (17) and four (4). "What are these?", I asked back, even more puzzled this time. Then the voice said (Hey, just a warning: I am NOT a lunatic!), "One year in preschool, six years in grade school, four years in high school, four years in college, two years in graduate school before you got married ("Before Mama died, too.", that was my mind butting in.), so that's equal to seventeen."
"Yeah right! How about the number four?"
The voice continued, "You continued your MA in Guidance and finished it in two years time and you have the next two years to finish your MA in SpEd."
I need not add. The voice inside me was right. Mama was right. I have gone a long way and spent much in my studies (at times sacrificing my time with my kids, I mean usually on Saturdays) that it is impractical for me to just drop my hope.
I whispered a million of gratitude to Him who sent the voice to talk me out of my discouragement. So I had two signs to lighten up my soul which was taken away from me too soon because of that "Not so highly qualified" thing I discussed with you earlier in my previous CABAnata.
When did the third sign come? It also came too soon than what I expected it to come. Last Friday, a friend and I were talking about signs. Another friend was also telling me about "knock and it shall be opened" stuff. I obeyed them. I prayed and prayed. I kept on hoping. I was weaving plans in my head that seemed impossible. Again so I thought because my doubts were answered.
Last Saturday while waiting for a bus to bring me to graduate college, the university's associate dean who happened to reside in the same town as I do arrived at the bus station minutes away before I was to ride a bus, just enough to tell her my dilemma, and just enough, too for her to give suggestions on how to solve my problem.
She suggested I take up MA in Science Education in the same university the following semester. I will be majoring in SpEd (since I am about to finish this semester all the academic requirements for SpEd) and Science becomes my minor. As for the four subjects I was supposed (one of which I have taken last summer) to repeat (because I was starting a new curriculum), she suggested that I ask for re-evaluation and if it is possible, be converted to PhD subjects.
That's it! As easy as I felt pathetic, I regained hope in a minute or so. Third sign.
My weekend, I spent it contemplating. Thanking too for the opportunities that come. I'll grab them. I know these are for me. I hope they are (Some jarred isolated note of disheartenment, eh!).
Divine intervention. They don't just come as they please. They are always there. In little ways. In subtle ways. In big-bang ways. But they are always there. It is just up to us to open our eyes and hearts and souls to the power of His presence.
And so be it!
P.S.
I would also like to thank you my dear readers for journeying with me. Writing is where I release my anxiety, my tension, that I may, in some way achieve a sense of well-being, homeostasis in a more scientific term (no matter how temporary the palliative effect may be), but it is through the words I share you that I maintain my sanity and my being.
I have. Not just once but many times in my life.
Don't I feel ashamed of what I do because it is as if I am putting to the test the existence of a more powerful being than I am? Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. Isn't it that even Jesus himself tried to seek a sign from the Father when his death was nearing but in the end, he humbly said, "Let thy will be done."?
And so that's what I do, too. I knock and I hope for a positive response from the Father to open His door for my intentions.
Why am I telling all these stuff?
It is because of that "Not so highly qualified!" thing I am still worried about. It really bothers me you know. It is as if my dreams and plans are evaporating into thin air before my very eyes. Even when I said I don't hope much and that I just let the opportunities come and grab them if they do, in my heart, I know that this is the only hope I have not to let my children experience the same conditions I had as a child, as a growing teenager, as a student, as an adult and as a mother. Whatever these are, they involve painful experiences (traumatic in more ways than one) with financial difficulties as a source of or an off-shoot to something and of something. Most Filipinos know what I am talking about. I need not expand.
Divine intervention. No doubt it is there. I only falter to believe its existence. But every now and then He reminds me He is just there.
Let me count the ways. The night before I left for Manila to attend the seminar, I had a dream. A little bit vague. It was my mother. I remembered my brother's line when I almost forgot Mama's birthday last September 11, her 51st supposed to be. Yamoj said, Mama might visit me. In Tagalog, mumultuhin daw ako ni Mama. I shrugged away the thought. But indeed she did, not to scold me though, but to encourage me to pursue my dreams. How did I say that? In my dream I heard her (actually I said my dream was vague because I didn't really see her face, but I felt it was her because of the gentleness of her voice and the feel she left in my heart) telling me that I should not give up. And that I have to be patient, something to that effect. She also mentioned some numbers I wasn't sure of and what is it all about. If these numbers were lottery winning numbers or what?! Geeezzzzz!!! But some angel whispered me, it is a sign.
I woke up crying a bit and pushed through as planned without clarity whatsoever about my dream. Then again, while I was packing my things, my husband and I had a little disagreement on what I am going to wear (which I already mentioned in CBAnata 4). I said my casual jeans are okay but he wants me to wear something formal (which I later on followed, of course he won me out again with his arguments) because if I did, I wouldn't have a coat. Day before, I texted my aunt, borrowing a coat of cream, black or brown hues since the only slacks I have is of these shades. But unfortunately, she wasn't able to lend me one. Or so I thought. Because before I boarded the bus to Manila, their van was in front the bus and she was frantically waving the coat out the window. In short, I had a coat. I counted to myself, second sign.
While in the bus, I recalled my dream. Thinking my butt out what the numbers really meant. I even can't remember what numbers were mentioned though I know there were. Again, I heard a small voice playing in my head telling me that the numbers were seventeen (17) and four (4). "What are these?", I asked back, even more puzzled this time. Then the voice said (Hey, just a warning: I am NOT a lunatic!), "One year in preschool, six years in grade school, four years in high school, four years in college, two years in graduate school before you got married ("Before Mama died, too.", that was my mind butting in.), so that's equal to seventeen."
"Yeah right! How about the number four?"
The voice continued, "You continued your MA in Guidance and finished it in two years time and you have the next two years to finish your MA in SpEd."
I need not add. The voice inside me was right. Mama was right. I have gone a long way and spent much in my studies (at times sacrificing my time with my kids, I mean usually on Saturdays) that it is impractical for me to just drop my hope.
I whispered a million of gratitude to Him who sent the voice to talk me out of my discouragement. So I had two signs to lighten up my soul which was taken away from me too soon because of that "Not so highly qualified" thing I discussed with you earlier in my previous CABAnata.
When did the third sign come? It also came too soon than what I expected it to come. Last Friday, a friend and I were talking about signs. Another friend was also telling me about "knock and it shall be opened" stuff. I obeyed them. I prayed and prayed. I kept on hoping. I was weaving plans in my head that seemed impossible. Again so I thought because my doubts were answered.
Last Saturday while waiting for a bus to bring me to graduate college, the university's associate dean who happened to reside in the same town as I do arrived at the bus station minutes away before I was to ride a bus, just enough to tell her my dilemma, and just enough, too for her to give suggestions on how to solve my problem.
She suggested I take up MA in Science Education in the same university the following semester. I will be majoring in SpEd (since I am about to finish this semester all the academic requirements for SpEd) and Science becomes my minor. As for the four subjects I was supposed (one of which I have taken last summer) to repeat (because I was starting a new curriculum), she suggested that I ask for re-evaluation and if it is possible, be converted to PhD subjects.
That's it! As easy as I felt pathetic, I regained hope in a minute or so. Third sign.
My weekend, I spent it contemplating. Thanking too for the opportunities that come. I'll grab them. I know these are for me. I hope they are (Some jarred isolated note of disheartenment, eh!).
Divine intervention. They don't just come as they please. They are always there. In little ways. In subtle ways. In big-bang ways. But they are always there. It is just up to us to open our eyes and hearts and souls to the power of His presence.
And so be it!
P.S.
I would also like to thank you my dear readers for journeying with me. Writing is where I release my anxiety, my tension, that I may, in some way achieve a sense of well-being, homeostasis in a more scientific term (no matter how temporary the palliative effect may be), but it is through the words I share you that I maintain my sanity and my being.
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