Category Archives: God

Tempest in a Teapot Six Years Ago

I was browsing over Mike’s Facebook this morning, and came across this note I had written almost six years ago.  I had completely forgotten about it, but it is too funny not to share, so here goes…

June 28, 2009.  Every morning after prayers, I would weigh myself. The scale always reported back an acceptable 110 to 115 lbs. depending on the workload (the more stress, the more I eat). Last week, however, was different. I registered at 117, then 118, then 119 the next day. I shook the scale, then checked again. Still 119! This can’t be, I thought, but the pants have been getting tighter. Horrors! I must start to diet and exercise. 

Then, cuddled up with Mike on the sofa watching my favorite soap, Desperate Housewives, we had a good laugh over Linette’s getting pregnant with twins at 40+. And then Mike teased me, “Maybe that’s why you’re becoming voluptuous.”

That can’t be, I argued. I’m supposed to be menopausal by now. But doubt had started to creep in. When did I have my last period? The last I remember was two months ago. But I haven’t experienced any of the touted symptoms: hot flashes, irate temper, etc. Oh, no!

Over evening snacks in the kitchen, I casually mentioned the possibility of having a new addition to the family to my grown-up daughters and teenage son. I was not prepared for their reaction. Jaws dropped, hands clapped over their eyes and ears, and protests of “What? Are you serious?,” “Mommy, how could you?,” and “Noooooo!” filled the room. After the shock had passed, Bea turned to Cara and said, “I’ll take care of Niccolo. You take care of the new one.”

Cara, my middle child, whipped out her laptop and started to check for menopausal symptoms. She read out the long list. At each point, she asked, “Are you feeling this?” After about 20 symptoms including migraines and aching joints, she concluded that she’s menopausal. Except for migraines which I’ve had since my teenage days, I was clear.

Yesterday afternoon, Cara still could not shake off her feeling of doom, and so she convinced me to go to the drugstore to buy a pregnancy test. We were both embarrassed to buy it, but I finally summoned courage to approach the counter. In the car on the way home, she called her older sister to help me with the test because she said she would faint if it were her. Since the test instructions recommended an early morning test, we had to wait till the morning.

Last night, I attended the birthday party of a dear friend in the village. I confided my worries to a friend who promptly announced it to the group. I naturally became the object of a lot of friendly ribbing, so I retorted, “If this pushes through, you’ll all be ninangs.” This drew another round of ribbing. Imagine our octogenarian friends hosting a baby party? Or a child of six asking me where her ninangs are? We were in stitches all night. Good thing, the conversation moved on Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Vicki Belo and Hayden Kho.

“Don’t worry, Monette, we’ll all be rooting for you,” another friend said as we parted ways last night. But worry, I did. I thought of all the things I’d have to go through again… maternity dresses, pedia visits, all-nighters, pre-school, park and zoo trips… And questions, such as, “Why is the lola accompanying the baby instead of the mom?” Heavens! I’d be 70 by the time debut happens.

Bright and early this morning, I did the test. While waiting for the results, I prayed. Those were probably the longest, most excruciating three minutes I had to endure.

One bar! Negative. Thank you, Lord! Now, I can just look forward to cuddling apos one of these days. That, I wouldn’t mind at all.

 

 

Alfonso in October

IMG_5753October 24, 2014.  Finally, I arrived safely in Alfonso, just as dusk began to settle in.  It seemed that Mother Nature had thrown her dark mantle over the green expanse signaling that it was time for weary souls to rest.  I felt peace settling in, just as the cicadas began their chirping symphony.

It’s been a crazy, frenzied two weeks.  We’ve just finished organizing two major international conferences last week: the International IT-BPM Summit (IIS) and the SycipLaw-sponsored World Law Group Conference.   Both were highly successful, thanks to the amazing people who make up TeamAsia.  Concurrently, we were setting up meetings for the IIS Egyptian and Bangladesh delegations that were interested to learn more about the business process management industry in the Philippines. In between all of the conference prep activities, I was busy organizing my mom’s 80th birthday celebration, and working on a book on her life, while juggling Tourism Promotions Board and PACEOS responsibilities.  Clearly, I needed to decompress.   And so did the team.

1904127_10204878157094752_5178903032146269851_nAnd so we decided it was time for a much needed break from work.  Thursday morning, our hardworking Experience Team hied off to The Green Olive Garden Private Hotel near St. Scholastica’s Retreat House in Tagaytay for a strategic planning session.  On the way up, we stopped for breakfast at Rowena’s Café and surprised Karen and Joana with birthday cakes.  The poor girls were not able to celebrate their birthdays properly with all the work that had to be done.

We had The Green Olive Garden Hotel all to ourselves, thanks to Karen who had made all the arrangements.  The spanking clean spacious bedrooms were well-appointed, the beds and pillows soft as down, the food not just filling but appetizing as well.  The cool Tagaytay breeze, the smell of pine trees, and the profuse foliage and flowering shrubs provided a soothing backdrop to the place.  I was assigned the executive room which even sported a Jacuzzi for two in the bathroom.  It was, of course, wasted on me.

10245351_10204007188914336_1289111777421054271_nWe buckled down to work right after a hilarious ice breaker where we had each person tell a story about random items they had brought with them, and then swapped with each other.  The afternoon was highly productive.  After dinner, it was time to chill by the pool with wine, while others had their massage. But first, I had to get on a Skype call with colleagues from South Korea and the US for a smart platform being planned in time for the Philippines’ hosting of the APEC Women and the Economy Forum next year.

10712734_10204007147873310_9059012607933853107_nTurns out the only place where the Internet connection was strong enough was behind the counter of The Green Olive Garden.  While waiting for everyone to sign in, I had a good look around, and noted that the owners must be Vespa fans, as there were several retrospective posters of bikes around.  I also took the opportunity to post the photos of my mom’s birthday on my Facebook, as family and friends have been asking for them.

Our team was already having loads of fun by the pool, doing improvisation theatre, followed by several games that got everyone rolling with laughter, tripping over their Tagalog words, and spilling the beans on well-kept secrets.  Looking around at these young men and women, I marveled at how relaxed and happy they looked, and what a contrast it was to the determined team of professionals who ran the conferences last week.  I felt my chest puff up with pride that this was my work family.  I am so blessed to have them.

IMG_5747The next morning, I woke up bright and early only to discover that everyone else was still asleep, other than Darwin, our training associate who was already in the pool. The clear blue water of the pool glistened in the sun, beckoning me to swim. Thankful I had been spared a hangover from the copious wine I had the night before (each time I lost I had to drink some wine; obviously, I needed more practice with the games), I surprised myself by doing five laps.  Not bad, I thought, considering I sported a back brace and was walking with a cane right about this time last year.

After wrapping up the highly productive strategic planning session and bidding good-bye to the team, I drove to Alfonso. Earlier, I let our driver Jimmy go home as he had to bring his pregnant wife for a medical check-up. Truth to tell though, I just wanted to be alone, to sort out my thoughts.  Driving by myself was a welcome treat.  It’s been awhile since I’ve been behind the wheel.  Humming a tune, I savored the prospect of time alone in the Retreat, while mulling over the events of the past two weeks.

I was a bit worried about a Skype conference call I had to make Friday night.  Internet connection in Alfonso is always spotty, but the recent storm may have wiped it out altogether.  Walking around the farm, the only place that had a reasonable 3G signal was underneath the mango tree beside the cabana.  Oh well, I thought, this is better than having to drive back to Tagaytay.

IMG_5772After asking our caretaker Jeovanie to keep me company in the dark, I spread my festive red sarong on the ground, turned on the computer and tried desperately to connect using my PLDT WeRoam as well as my Globe phone.  The Internet connection was ephemeral and weaker than a butterfly’s gossamer wings. The call kept getting dropped. After half an hour, I gave up, packed my bags and went back to the house to sleep.

IMG_5773For the first time in weeks, I clocked in eight hours of tranquil sleep, rudely disturbed by the cacophony of roosters crowing, chickens cackling and the nun’s geese next door honking. I went out, just as dawn began to break, with darkness giving way graciously to light, the sky awash in baby blue and pink hues.  Pretty soon, the sun showed itself, unveiling the beauty of the farm.

IMG_5830It always takes my breath away when I see sun-dappled leaves, still moist with the night’s dew, bursting in vivid green.  I don’t think there is enough variety of paint in the world to capture all of Nature’s many hues.  Inspired, I walked around the farm, took photos, and decided to settle myself at the cabana to paint.

IMG_5853 I ended up trying to paint myself.  I remembered my first self-portrait.  It was done in oil while I was in college, and I had given it to my boyfriend.  When we broke up, he didn’t return it.  I hope he didn’t use it as target practice.

Before driving back to town, I paid a quick visit to an 81-year old friend in Alfonso who I hadn’t seen in a while.  She and her daughter enjoyed pouring over my mom’s book. Taking my leave, I hugged and kissed her, telling her I love her.  Tears sprung to her eyes.  I suddenly remembered Dada, and how much she appreciated the gesture of the book.  I vowed to call, check on her, and tell her how much I loved her.

IMG_5855Someone dear had told me that I needed to be happy being alone, being myself.  And that I was, at the Retreat, basking in the beauty of God’s creation, and the peace within my soul.  I thought of my beautiful children, my mom, my siblings, Mike, my friends, the people I love most in this life, and was grateful for having them in my life.   But most of all, I remembered who I am, how much I am loved by God despite my many frailties, and thanked Him for the many blessings I have received.

150130_10204018087906804_4382034564640049740_n

On the way back home, Nanay Tinay, the lady from whom I bought flowers in Tagaytay gave me a single red rose before I got back into the car.   I was startled.  With a twinkle in her eye, she wished me love.  And so I drove back with a smile on my face, holding on to that red rose, just happy being me.

 

Clearing out, moving on

This morning when I woke up, I decided to finally clear our walk in closet of all of Mike’s clothes.  I should have given them away long before, but truth to tell, I could not bear to part with them.   Seeing his suits hanging in our closet somehow comforted me.

Someone had told me that it was good to get rid of things that remind you of someone you had loved and lost, and that this was the first step for moving on.  On Facebook, I saw a post that said, “You can’t reach for anything new if your hands are still full of yesterday’s junk.”  And yet another post said, “Think positive and positive things will happen.”

It seems the world was telling me it was time to let go.  Mike was never coming back in this lifetime.  Death had claimed him, and he was back with our Creator.

So with a heart full of hope that life indeed would get better, I did exactly that.  Cleared everything out, and packed them in two suitcases.  Oh, I cried a river while I was doing it, remembering good times with Mike, cherishing our love, but when I finally shut the suitcases, I felt ready to begin life anew.

What lies ahead, I wonder?

Alfonso after the Storm

August 3, 2014. Home at last in Alfonso! Everyone’s schedules finally converged and our family drove down to The Retreat for the weekend.   We had not visited Alfonso since Glenda happened, and I feared the worst at what I would find.

Late lunch at Bag of Beans
Late lunch at Bag of Beans

We arrived at dark last night, with the rains pouring, after a brief late afternoon stop at Bag of Beans. Not having had lunch, Niccolo and I were both hungry but it took some girl convincing for Niccolo to try out a new place. His heart was set on pizza but Dada had just come from Rome and didn’t want any. I was pleasantly surprised at how pretty Bag of Beans has transformed from the rustic place Mike and I would visit years ago. Their porkchop tastes just as delicious and smoky as I remember it to be, and the raisin bread I bought was still warm from the oven.

We stayed indoors last night watching a love story on DVD, against Niccolo’s protests, but then it was one against three so we won that round. Dear John, it was. Not a weeper, thank goodness! Signal was spotty, weaving in and out, so I finally gave up trying to connect to the outside world. The night was cold and the wind whipped as I stepped out to the lanai. Alfonso nights are always magical. Peace settled into my soul, and I whispered goodnight to Mike’s spirit. I turned off the garden lights and locked downstairs. It felt good to be back home, in bed and listening to the pitter patter of the rain outside.

IMG_1571 smallEarly this morning, I set out with our caretaker Jeovanie to check out Glenda’s damage to the farm. The landscape was different. I could see all the way to the other embankment, which used to hide behind our lush foliage before. Bereft of their crowning glory, the trees seemed much thinner and more fragile, just like Bugsy is after taking a bath. Capiz lights that adorned the trees were battered; some had lost their shells.  Fallen santol, rambutan and coconuts littered the ground, though I spied some kalamansi and dayap clinging on. It will take a while before we can enjoy the fruits of the farm again.

IMG_1610 - smallTrunks cut in half by the lashing of the wind stood sadly by. Trees leaned precariously on their sides, as if bowing down to the powers that be, unable to get back on their feet. It seemed that the biggest trees were the ones that could not withstand the onslaught of the storm and were uprooted completely: Five mangoes, one guyong guyong, one langka, one antipolo, several bamboos, and about a dozen and a half mahogany trees. The boys had tried to clear as much as they could but I still had to clamber over fallen logs to get around, and balance on the slippery moss-covered stones. Surprisingly, none of the 14 Stations of the Cross trees were damaged. Mike had taken care of them.

Jeovanie’s roof had flown off, but was now back in place. He tells me that most of our neighbors had lost their roofs, if not their entire houses. Why even the St. Paul nuns next door were not spared. Luckily, our house, outside kitchen and cabanas were not damaged, although Jeovanie said that at the height of the storm, he feared that the large picture windows would cave in with the pummeling of the wind, and that he and his wife Bleng were able to save the large glass top of our dinner table before the wind carried it off.

IMG_1629_smallDespite the storm, however, the ground was lush with green, and new shoots were springing up. Rain, our dog, was running around, chickens were scratching for food while the roosters puffed up their chests to crow, birds chirped and flew from tree to tree. Everything smelled fresh and clean, as if God had given the world a bath to start the day right. And as I passed, the ylang-ylang tree perfumed the air. New life begins, and hope springs eternal.

Roller Coaster Ride

May 4, 2011.  It’s been a roller coaster ride with the cornea transplant. The first one that took place on a Friday three weeks ago went perfectly well but the very next day Mike accidentally hit his eye with his arm while sleeping and burst a suture. Mike complained about pain Saturday and Sunday, but the doctor thought it was just the natural healing process and told him to just rest and take medication.

We didn’t know the real situation until his Monday checkup, and the doctor didn’t let him go home. He went straight into surgery to save the cornea, and added another five sutures to the 16 Mike already had. The danger was that infection had set in during the weekend when a part of the eye was open. For the next week it seemed that things were getting better other than Mike’s complaint that he was not seeing things as clearly as he did right after the first operation (which the doctor attributed to the additional five stitches that were bearing more weight than the others) and that there was a constant pain in one part of the eye.

So last Wednesday, when Mike went to the doctor, they noticed that there was a new tear and that suture management had to be done. Mike was scheduled for surgery the next day.The doctor removed the five stitches he had added and re-arranged stitches so that there would be equal bearing on the eye. Well, what was supposed to take 30 minutes took about three hours. Once again, subsequent check-ups indicated that things were OK.

Then the other day while I was at a meeting in Makati, I got a text message from Bea that Mike was again going into the Operating Room. That’s when I completely lost it. Before going to Asian Hospital, I passed by our parish church, went on my knees, wept and implored God for help.

Bea and I prayed on our way to the hospital. The operation took from 7pm to 12:30 am. I didn’t even get to see Mike or talk to the doctor before the surgery. I kept begging the nurses for word as to what was happening. All they could say was that the operation was ongoing, and that Dr. Manolette Roque was the only doctor in attendance.

When the doctor finally emerged, he looked exhausted. I hugged him and thanked him. He said he had to re do all the sutures twice because part of the cornea had torn, part of it had dissolved, the eye chamber had almost collapsed, and was leaking like a cheesecloth.  He said he finally got the leaks plugged, had put in a lens bandage, and wanted to see Mike when he woke up.

Both Mike and Dr. Manolette hadn’t eaten or taken a sip of water all those long hours. The surgery was done without general anesthesia, as there was no prep time. At one point, the doctor asked Mike if he believed in God. Mike said he was Christian, and so they both prayed hoping for a miracle. Outside, Bea and I continued praying. I saw Pope John Paul’s beatification on the waiting lounge TV and prayed to him for a miracle.

It took Asian Hospital awhile to get the billing done as we were the only ones left. We arrived home at about 2:30am, and I had to leave for a teaching assignment by 7am.  By 1pm, I accompanied Mike to the doctor.  We feared the worst.

When he removed the bandage, Manolette was overjoyed because the cornea was still clear, the chamber was deep, and there was no leak. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He had expected the cornea to die because of all the trauma it had suffered. He was so happy he started to cry. He said there was no explanation. I told him there was only one. God had listened to our prayers and performed a miracle!

Ask and it will be given

(Sharing something I had written three years ago.  As real then as it is now.)

April 20, 2011.  Wednesday afternoon, Mike’s doctor called to tell us that there was a cornea available that fits the profile needed by Mike. A 21-year old gunshot victim. A quick decision was needed; otherwise, the cornea would no longer be suitable. Mike decided to go for the transplant, and so it seemed that our journey for the past two and half years was coming to a close.

It all began when Mike decided to go for cataract surgery.  He had a cataract in his right eye removed over 15 years ago, and everything had gone well. He has also had laser surgery to correct his vision, and that went well too. So he thought nothing of having his left eye fixed, and decided to go to Asian Hospital and ask them for a recommendation.  He met up with a young woman doctor who had trained in the United States, and whose clinic hours worked favorably for his schedule. Mike was impressed with the confident way she spoke, and thought he was in good hands. After a few visits, he decided to schedule the surgery.

It was a very busy time, work-wise, and so it was only on surgery day that I was able to accompany him to Asian Hospital. Before the surgery, I spoke to the doctor and asked her to walk me through what was going to happen. She told me it was a simple 15-minute procedure using the latest equipment, and assured me that she had done it several times. All she needed to do was replace the lens with a new one.  He didn’t even have to be confined.

I settled to wait in the lobby and worked on my laptop while waiting for the operation.  After an hour, I approached the nurses’ window to ask how the operation was going. They said everything was OK.  Assured, I went back to work. After another 30 minutes had passed, I again approached the window.  This time, the lady doctor came out and said Mike was just resting.  Not to worry.  But when another 45 minutes had passed, and still no Mike, I became really agitated and demanded to know what was happening. The nurses had no answer. I paced back and forth and kept coming back.

Three hours after the operation had started, the doctor finally came out and said everything was OK. I asked her why it had taken so long, when she said it would just take 15 minutes. She said there was a slight complication, but not to worry, his eye would heal and he should be able to see clearly in a few days.

When I saw Mike, my heart sank.  It looked like he had been pummeled, and his eye was grotesquely out of shape. I put up a brave front, and brought him home after settling all the hospital bills.

After several post-op visits and Mike could still not see, we began to worry. His doctor kept giving many reasons why Mike’s eye was not responding as quickly as it should.  I was shocked to learn later that they had to call another doctor to finish the operation because his own doctor had panicked during the procedure and could not put in the lens. His cornea was irreparably damaged due to the long wait that the eye was open and irrigated for the operation.

We consulted different eye specialists, but the prognosis was always the same: he would never recover clear eyesight in his left eye. The only glimmer of hope left was a cornea transplant, and that would be a hit and miss affair.  Nevertheless, we signed up at the eye bank.

Later, Mike found a doctor he liked and could trust wholeheartedly in the person of Dr. Manolette Roque.  An earnest young and distinguished doctor, Manolette had set up the Eye Republic Ophthalmology Clinic.  Manolette quickly became Mike’s confidante and friend.  Both highly IT-literate, they discussed different options for surgery and explored new technologies as they became available.

Being a prolific writer, Mike was severely affected.  Physically, he was in a lot of pain. He got tired easily.  He also lost his depth vision, and would sometimes walk into the wall, or miss the glass as he was pouring a drink. Financially, the constant medicines and visits were a strain.  Emotionally, it took a heavy toll.  He kept blaming himself for choosing the wrong doctor.  He even asked me if I still wanted him.  All I could do was assure him of my love.

I hated myself for not taking better care of my husband. If only I had not been so wrapped up with work that I did not pay attention to his plans for cataract surgery, we could have spent the time searching for a good doctor.  I had so much anger in my heart. I wanted to hurt the doctor, destroy her reputation, sue her for what she did and prevent her from inflicting similar harm to others. I even went as far as consulting a lawyer.  It galled that she never ever apologized or accepted her fault.  But, Mike, being a very private person, did not want me to talk about the situation or pursue the matter.   He vacillated between wanting to sue her and saying he did not want to destroy her life and her livelihood.  Of the two of us, Mike has always been the better person.

It took a while for Mike to adapt to his new condition.  I swallowed my fear each time he would take the wheel, but knew that if I did not let him drive, it would make him feel even worse.  Forbidden to wet his eyes, Mike also had to forego swimming, snorkelling and diving, activities he enjoyed immensely.  While our family and friends continued to pray for his healing, we all adapted to the situation. What was abnormal became the norm. It was thus a jolt of surprise when Mike received Manolette’s call last Wednesday.

When Mike decided to go on with the transplant, I quickly got my mobile phone out and started to text my children to inform them, and my friends to ask for prayers.  Mike asked me what I was doing, and told me to stop telling people as he didn’t want people to know.  I asked him why, and he said it was just an eye operation, and he did not want to bother anyone, especially since there were other people who were suffering from much more serious conditions.  I stopped what I was doing, but when I learned that he had emailed our excom to advise them he would not be around for our next meeting, I decided to go ahead and ask all my friends and family to pray for him, for Manolette, and for the young cornea donor who had died.  I am so thankful that I did.

Yesterday morning, I was touched by the Lord, and felt His presence in my life.  While waiting for Mike’s surgery to begin, I confided in the Lord that I did not know how to pray to Him.  I opened my Bible cover, and saw tucked into a side pocket, a small novena that someone had given me long ago and which I had never read.  It was entitled “Novena to God’s Love.” In the inside back cover, there was a prayer of thanksgiving and surrender.  While reading it, I felt a wave of calm pass over me.  Then, flipping through the pages, I discovered that the footnote for each page was calling out to me:

“Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.” Matthew 7:7

“Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” Matthew 6:8

“My God will fully supply whatever you need, in accord with His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19

“If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it.” John 14:14

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name, He will give you.” John 16:23

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens. Ephesian 1:3

“Therefore I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours.” Mark 11:24

Surely, I thought, this was the Lord telling me not to worry, that he would take care of Mike.  And so, I felt strangely calm while the operation was going on.

When I was told that Mike was now in the recovery room, I asked the nurses if I could see Mike. They said I could not go in, but that I could peek at him through the glass window.  After checking on him, I returned to the nurses’ window to ask if I could see the surgeon and the anaesthesiologist so I could thank them personally.  I was told they had already left.  Then a lady doctor who had passed me earlier and was already quite a distance away, doubled back and approached me, introducing herself as the anaesthesiologist. She assured me that Mike was fine. I was so happy that I could thank her personally, since I had never met her before.

While waiting in the lobby for Mike to recover, another lady doctor approached the nurses’ window. She had her back to me, but she seemed strangely familiar. When she turned, I smiled at her.  She then approached me. When she was closer, I realized that she was the doctor who had fumbled up Mike’s cataract surgery two and half years ago.

She introduced herself and asked why I was there.  I said I was waiting for Mike to recover from the cornea transplant surgery.  She asked how he was.  I am ashamed to say that at that moment, I wanted to hurt her, but suddenly, the words I had read earlier in Mark 11:25-26 flashed before my eyes: “When you stand to pray, forgive anyone whom you have a grievance, so that your heavenly Father may in turn forgive you your transgressions.”

Instead, I told her: “You know, Mike has suffered so much because of what you did to him two years ago. He has been in pain not just physically, but emotionally, mentally and even spiritually.  I have hated you so much and have wanted to sue you and destroy your reputation for what you have done.  But we have not done so, and after praying, I have realized that I must instead forgive you.”

She started to cry and said that she had not intended for it to happen. I understood then that she must have carried guilt and regret in her heart all this time, and that it must have been a heavy burden for her to carry as well. I just asked her to please make sure that she doesn’t harm anyone else, and that she also speak to my husband and apologize to him.  I then embraced her and we parted.

When Manolette came out of the operating room, I was surprised since the nurse said he had already left. I rushed to hug him and thank him.  That afternoon, after checking on Mike, Manolette said he was very happy with the results of the surgery. He rated the operation as 9 out of 10, and only because he had to give Mike general anaesthesia so he would be asleep during the procedure.

The surgery went well, and he is now at home resting. The next three days are critical though, to ensure that his eye does not get infected or inflamed so that the cornea would hold.  But, Mike can see more clearly now that he could for the past two years, and we are so very grateful to the Lord, and to all those who prayed for Mike!

As we enter the Lenten season, I’d like to share with you a passage from the Book of Isaiah (59:6-9) on true fasting:

“This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own.

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed; your vindication shall go before you, and the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer, you shall cry for help, and he will say: “Here I am.”

Truly we have an amazing God who loves us and makes the impossible possible!  He has everything planned out. I called and He answered.  But first, I had to remove the hate and anger in my heart and learn to forgive.  For it is in forgiving others and ourselves that we open ourselves to healing. How blessed we all are to be called His children!