My heart begins to pant

 

On March 14, 2025, Friday when it was my turn to receive Holy Communion, the Mass celebrant priest at St. Jude Shrine attempted to pick a Host twice and was not able to get one Host for me, I had the opportunity to take a look at and love the Lord Jesus Christ in those forms in the ciborium. Like playing cards that had just been shuffled. On the third attempt, the priest was able to pick one up though and placed the Host on my tongue.

I remember an episode which happened yet at the back chapel of Redemptorist Church in Bajada. I no longer remember the date or the chronological order of the Eucharistic experiences that followed after the first experience. I rely only when God let me remember the experiences for writing. Like I remember this episode.

Probably, it was a 12:00 noon Mass because it was daytime when it happened and I lined up to receive Holy Communion from a lay minister.

I knelt with both knees when I was already next in line for Holy Communion.

The edge of a pew was there that I could partly hide myself when I did the kneeling before my turn to receive Holy Communion.

I closed my eyes when I did the kneeling.

When I stood up, I opened my eyes and took a look at the Hosts in the ciborium.

It was nicely arranged.

And I whispered to the Lord Jesus Christ in the vernacular: "Hala, sinaksak-sinagul lage Ka, Lord!"

What I meant was the Hosts were like playing cards that had just been shuffled and nicely arranged.

Then, the lay minister was unable to pick a Host for me even on the third attempt.

On the third attempt, I exclaimed to the Lord Jesus Christ in a whisper in the vernacular: "Hala, Lord, dili siya kakuha!" (Lord, he cannot pick one for me!)

And I began to catch my breath as my heart began to pant.

It was like my heart had a personality of its own.

Like my heart was alarmed it couldn't receive the Body of Christ at that moment!

My heart was like longing to receive the Lord Jesus Christ in the Blessed Host.

And my heart panted.

I was surprised my heart behaved the way it did.

I could hardly hide it.

I could only bow my head to the right in the attempt to hide my heart panting but no matter how I hid it, it was still in the view of the Mass attenders as I was partly facing the people in the pews.

While I was panting or catching my breath, the lay minister was able to pick one.

He said in the vernacular: "O, naa na!" (Here, It is!) -- as he raised the Host before me.

I took a look at the raised Host as my heart stopped panting immediately.

I was no longer catching my breath.

The Host was placed on my left open palm and immediately I picked It up to place It on my tongue and consumed It on the kneeler.

After the Mass, I left the chapel right away because fellow Mass attenders had witnessed the behavior my heart displayed towards the Blessed Host during Holy Communion.

Why God has chosen me?

 

Why has God chosen me to be the reflection of His Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist?

I have been truly unworthy to be the sign since I was born out of wedlock. Worse, my father who had a wedded wife had a relationship with my mother at the same time.

God has chosen a sinner like me to be the reflection of His Presence in the Holy Eucharist probably because I have availed of His Divine Mercy.

Out of Divine Mercy, God has called me.

In the mid-1990's, I was so afflicted with a worsening eczema then spreading throughout my legs and feet. I had difficulty walking because of this. I was almost bedridden but I had to seek intercession from the "Divine Mercy In My Soul" community in which office was yet situated at Bolton Street. I went there covering my wounds with tissue papers so my fresh wounds would not stick to my pants and shoes. Before the image of the Divine Mercy, probably two or three workers of the community prayed over me.

One of the workers placed his hand over my chest in the heart area (or so I presume because I was closing my eyes); but I felt the warmth of the Hand holding my entire heart. I knew it was the Hand of the Lord Jesus Christ because I had the feeling of a Warm Hand holding my entire heart! I was not healed instantly.

I was still applying ointment after ointment after ointment to the affected areas so that there was only one recurring mother wound left in my ankle in the left leg.

Until the wound healed by itself -- after years!

I had suffered with eczema 12 years in all!

Later in this life, a man of God (let's call him Don who is gifted of prophecy) told me I had a suffering before being used by God for the salvation of sinners. This episode of my suffering was all I could think of when he wrote me the letter. I have suffered so much in my life, to say the least. I was also led to understand that my homelessness God was using for the salvation of sinners. Probably, my sufferings in life are the reasons why the Lord has chosen me.

No secret anymore

 

Joining the El Shaddai movement, a Catholic charismatic community, in 1993 (I was 27) has taught me to be true to God, to people and to one's very own self.

I had kept a secret and keeping a secret is detrimental and a blockage to one's calling as a servant of God.

Being fine in my ways and soft-spoken, it was not really a secret.

My family and relatives at the back of their minds have known the real score about me, especially them that saw my childhood.

For me, it was embarrassing.

I grew up hiding it.

I was a secret gay!

By joining the El Shaddai movement, the Holy Spirit convicted me to reveal this thing I held as a secret.

Towards the later part of the 1990's, by the strength of the Holy Spirit, I revealed this secret to the local community of El Shaddai by making a live life testimony and through a written testimony via the group's international newsletter with my own picture published alongside the testimony and through the local weekly archdiocesan newspaper of the Davao Catholic Herald.

I said to myself, having done that, I won't reveal it anymore to anyone I would meet everytime.

That would be the first and last of my self-revelation.

Why on earth am I revealing it anew?

Simply because I fell to the vice of homosexuality again in 2013 after the series of Eucharistic experiences that I had had.

Clearly, it was an attempt to stop me from this calling and the Devil succeeded.

I was devastated.

I was hopeless.

I squandered the graces I had received from God.

And that would be the end of my calling until, one late afternoon, God made a sign through a sunset cloud formation wherein an enormous Hand (representative of God) was trying to snatch up a triangle (representative of myself) in which two lower ends of the triangle were stuck below it (the world).

The Hand was trying to lift or magnetize the triangle without touching it so that the upper end of the triangle and the lower line elongated and stretched upward but two lower corners of the triangle held on to the world (the sin of homosexuality).

While commuting on a PUJ, I saw the heavenly sign and took a picture of it while the vehicle was plying but lost the photo anyway.

I knew, through the sign, God was communicating to my spirit:

He would rescue me!

I only had to lose grip of my hold to the world.

To realize this end, I went to the confessional and revealed my sins amid fear.

These had been habitual sins and I just kept confessing to mostly #TLM confessors despite receiving rage from some of them (one priest even went out of the confessional banging the door open during my confession to see who was confessing, he was probably embarrassed to see the one who confessed was not a regular attender or a church worker) until I was delivered from the vice -- now I have been 12 years "sober" by availing of the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

The first Eucharistic experience

 

The first of the Eucharistic ecstasies that I experienced happened at the back chapel of the Redemptorist Church in Bajada during a 6:00PM Mass on September 7, 2006.

The Eucharistic experience was preceded by a prophetic dream that I had at dawn of September 8, (probably) 2000.

Here is the link to the vision I saw in my dream:

http://eyeof1001.blogspot.com/2012/02/mother-of-eucharist.html

In my recollection, I happened to attend Mass at Redemptorist church because it was opportune time I had to deliver tamarind candies for consignment to the canteen of the then Davao Medical Center and the nearest church where I could attend Mass from the DMC canteen was the Redemptorist church.

The woman in-charge of the canteen fully paid me for the previous deliveries but told me they would have to stop accepting deliveries. That was hurting because the tamarind candies I prepared courtesy of my mom's recipe and delivered were saleable in the canteen and I couldn't get the notion to abruptly stop the succeeding deliveries. Because the tamarind candies were saleable and lucrative, a woman in-charge of the canteen I realized was lured to prepare the candies herself instead of accepting deliveries from me. In spite of feeling down, I was hopeful God would give me other source of income. So I came to the Mass hopeful.

Before the Mass began, a priest was hearing confessions in the back chapel of the church. A woman who finished confiding her sins to the priest was like having a fresh start but when the Mass began, a part of her human self emerged. It was in the part of the Mass when the attenders recited the Penitential Act, acknowledging our sins when attenders who have until now invented a gesture to face each other during the part we mention the "And to you, my brothers and sisters that I have greatly sinned..." and again "And you, my brothers and sisters to pray for me to the Lord..." I haven't been doing the gesture in every Mass I have attended and the woman seemed offended by it so that when the offering for peace, she never turned to me as I turned to her. (I was aware of my surroundings during the whole proceedings.)

During the start of the Mass, I already felt the Presence of the Lord Jesus Christ in the chapel. I could feel He was standing in a certain corner of the chapel but I didn't know exactly what corner He was standing on. It felt like He was not in the center of that church. (I realize at this moment of writing the Tabernacle was not in the center of the chapel or of that church and the Tabernacle was placed BEHIND the main church or at the BACK chapel and in the CORNER and not in the center of the back chapel!) I also had the feeling in this manner: it was like there was a dial controlling how I felt of His Presence. There was a time the dial or volume of like a transistor radio was turned high and I felt like I was drawn to where He was standing, looking for Him. It was like I was looking for Him but my feet stood ground. Acting strangely, my face or head was the only part of me looking for Him so that I was turning my head sideways several times. When the dial or volume was turned high, my heart was wild for Him. When the dial or volume was turned low, I was at peace. Although I was attuned to His Presence, I was also aware of my surroundings. I knew those near me already noticed I was acting strangely. But the strange act was controlled because my feet were glued to where I was standing. It was my head or face that was moving to look for that Presence. My heart was panting for His Presence at that moment but that moment was short and then the dial was turned low and I was like behaving already. My heart was at peace but aware of His Presence.

After the Consecration and it was time for Holy Communion, I queued up to take Holy Communion in the line leading to a certain lay minister. In my recollection, there were two lines leading to the same lay minister for Holy Communion: the line in the aisle and the line in the side (left of the altar or right side of those facing the altar). I decided to line up in the left side of the altar (or right side of those facing the altar). As I was lining up in the queue, I realized those of us lining in that queue would be partly facing the attenders sitting in the pews. This thought made me decide to transfer to the line in the aisle to avoid side-facing the people in the pews (introvert that I was). As I was lining in the aisle, I had the practice of bowing when I was already next to the person receiving Holy Communion. And when I brought myself up, the atmosphere changed. I felt a sudden surge of joy, realizing the Presence was just right there I was lining up to. I remember the last paragraph that I read that day on the diary of St. Faustina, I was smiling for the Presence in the ciborium held by the lay minister. I didn't see the Hosts because of the rim of the ciborium (or the ciborium was slightly filled of Hosts) but I knew behind that rim was the Host for me! And the hand of the lay minister picked a Host behind the rim I was so glued at. I was glued and lost to it I never knew how many seconds or minutes and then I was back to myself or to a realization I was looking intently on the ciborium (or to the hidden Host behind the rim of the ciborium). I knew and saw by faith the Host for me was just behind the front rim of the ciborium. From the front rim, the lay minister slid the Host to pick It up. My world at that moment was the Host and the lay minister picked it up by sliding the Host towards the front rim and raised It with his hand above me. I felt a Force was controlling me because had the Force let go of me, I would raise my head to get a full view of the raised Host but it was only my eyeballs that I could roll up to get a glimpse of the raised Host in front of me. And when I did have a glimpse of the Host, I lowered my shoulder so that I was still looking up but I was no longer looking at the Host. I knew the Host was up there in front of me. And then inside my ears I heard something was opening up and it seemed to me, my ears were close to the vocal chords of the lay minister because I heard his voice in a very modulated voice that I had ever heard in my life, as he pronounced the words, "The Body of Christ." On hearing it, to the best of my ability, I responded "Amen" imitating the voice in modulation.

I have to emphasize that I was not seeing the people in my view of the Host: the people and the lay minister were like black shadows so I could not take a look at them -- but only the Host! There was a time I was like only facing a lighted wall or my eyes were covered with a lighted white veil or linen while I was waiting for the pronouncement of the words "The Body of Christ" and the Blessed Host to be placed on my left, open palm.

When the lay minister placed the Host on my left palm, I slightly noticed my left, open palm was already positioned below my chin and the fingers were extended from each other, not the usual normal open palm with fingers closed to each other. As soon as the Host was placed on my palm, my index finger and thumb immediately picked the Host and placed the Host on my tongue.

As soon as I placed the Host on my tongue, my left palm was still in the same position as I turned my back from the lay minister and I stopped from leaving the line as if waiting for the man now in front of me to do something. The man moved away from the line to give way for me. Only then did I take a step to return to my kneeler. As soon as I took a step to return to my kneeler, I was already back to my normal self. The sense of the Presence of the Lord Jesus Christ ceased.

I felt the whole experience was dreamlike. Like I was having a dream.

However, when I was back to my kneeler, consuming the Host, a young man seated in the pew front of me turned to me in my kneeling position and cried and sobbed looking at me. Only then did I conclude I was having a Eucharistic experience or ecstasy that was seen and witnessed by some people.

Immediately, I went out of the chapel after the Mass and headed to Gaisano Citimall in Ilustre. I treated myself for some snack for the setback I experienced at DMC canteen. I felt so light and joyful because of the Eucharistic experience. There was a man I noticed in the food court -- a secondary schoolmate also having food and drinks in the place with his family. He noticed me and I noticed him also. By the way he looked at me and smiling, I knew he also recognized me as a batch in high school. We were not friends in high school; we just knew we were batch mates. He was on crutches already and seemed ashamed of his physical situation. His disability didn't matter to me (in fact, I was empathetic) because I was joyful to the Eucharistic experience I just had. Probably, he smiled and was drawn to me because he sensed the joy that emanated from within me.

Is Purgatory real?

 

Is Purgatory real?

The demise of my mother in 2003 has taught me the truth about Purgatory first-hand.

Purgatory is a temporary sojourn for souls of the dead undergoing purgation, as the name implies, before being welcomed into a pure, unadulterated place that is Heaven.

The Roman Catholic Church holds and maintains the doctrine of Purgatory to be true, worthy of belief and inspired by the Holy Spirit.

Time and again, in the history of the Church, private revelations about the reality of purgatorial existence have continued to grace the pages of its archives.

My own story began in a particular wake wherein a "mananabtan" (an old lady hired to lead prayers for the soul of the dead) prompted to launch the novena prayers before the coffin of mother's remains.

Luz, a family friend, a Catholic-turned "born-again" Christian, commented: "Dili na hinoon na sya maluwas!" (Praying for the soul might instead render her soul damned!)

Once the remains was buried, I had this experience one night when I was watching TV on the presidential candidacy of Philippine film action star FPJ.

I fell asleep from watching before the TV set as I sat on the chair -- and I started to have a dream.

A seamless transition from the TV show I'd been watching, the dream was set in the night and I saw a gathering of almost shadowy people supportive of FPJ's candidacy and the presence of my mother emerging from the crowd.

(The "shadowy crowd," I understand, is representative of the souls in Purgatory.)

Mother's face was downcast and in pale gray, looking at me; and she was not speaking yet had an urgent, pressing message to deliver.

She was then looking on a particular side of the scene as if to guide me into the place she was showing me and it seemed a familiar place where I had gone to before.

It was the pathway leading to the workers headquarters of Luz's affiliated "born-again" church.

Her facial expression was like she never wanted me to go there anymore or she would be jealous or sad if I go there again.

My spirit understood it as my mother telling me to ignore what Luz said in the wake.

The pressing, urgent message was FOR ME TO PRAY FOR HER SOUL and never listen to Luz whose belief was against praying for the souls of the dead.

And I woke up yet in front of a TV set still on.

So I kicked off praying the complete three mysteries of the Rosary for her soul every day in front of a lit candle -- and kneeling.

Days after, the soul of my mother showed herself to me again.

One night when I had the hard time falling asleep alone in the house and when I did gradually pass out to sleep, suddenly her face flashed before my eyes so that I sprang up to my waking state.

Her face already exuded a pinkish white complexion and smiling -- but the face still had a skin disease beside her nose.

Inspired with the improvement as seen in the vision, I went on saying the rosary three mysteries a day.

Weeks after, my father called me up from overseas to tell me he had a dream of mother.

I asked father right away about her complexion in his dream: Does she have a pinkish white complexion?

"How do you know?!" my father was shocked.

I told him, mother already appeared to me.

I asked Pa if Ma still had sores on her face in his dream and his reply was "None!"

Months of saying the beads went past and a family friend told me she dreamed of my mother, "She was flying into a place full of flowers!"

Finally, my sister reported a dream of February 14, 2004 (five months on the dot since Ma's passing): mother who was now youthful, pinkish-white complexioned and black-haired was already inside a cathedral of holiness, accompanied by souls so recollected, absorbed, attuned and all-contemplating the Eternal One.

Let me finish this story by resuming the dream I had of mother in the beginning:

When she finished communicating her non-verbal message, I started sobbing and told her I had been crying all along. She ignored my tears and walked away while I was following her in tears. The message impressed upon my soul at Ma's gesture was: "Your tears cannot help me on my journey. I need your prayers!"

So then the rest is history.

Need I say more #Purgatory is real?

The miracle of Mass for my mother's conversion

 

God has used my sufferings to save sinners -- so I was told by a prophetic man of God.

Probably, one of the concrete beneficiaries of my sufferings was my mother who lived an adulterous relationship with my father, already a married man.

My father was petitioned to immigrate to California in 1979 together with his legal wife and the first family for "greener pasture."

He would go back to the country probably every two years to be with us.

While father was away, I would talk to my mother to try to end their sinful relationship. I would tell her, it's OK to be friends with him but "no strings attached" -- meaning, no bed activities whatsoever. She agreed.

One time, he never came back for five or so years.

After 10 years of no communication, father was suddenly back.

But the tone of Ma's story was already different.

She never kept what she agreed upon.

I rebelled, somehow. Ma told Pa, I kept telling her to sever ties with him as it was sinful.

They both knew their relationship was sinful because every time they went to Mass together, they would not take Holy Communion.

Father arranged an occasion to talk to me alone and told me it would be easy for him to leave my mother, had she been unfaithful to him for all those years he had been away.

So life went on.

Later in life, there was a time I was too sick to go to Mass on a particular Sunday. God would understand. I was exempted to attend Mass on that Sunday because I was very sick. But I bargained with the Lord that should I be able to attend Mass that Sunday, He would grant my prayer-request on Monday. In short, I had been given the strength to attend Mass despite my illness because I would be granted the prayer I would be asking Him in exchange for the Mass I would attend that Sunday.

The prayer-request I chose to ask from the Lord: for my mother to confess to a priest her adulterous relationship with my father!

To cut the story short, I was able to attend Mass that Sunday.

But I was not expectant God would answer that prayer. It was enough for me it made me able to go to Mass that Sunday.

Next day was a Monday.

Mother woke up at dawn to prepare to go to church! She had not been doing that.

I did not ask why and for what.

When she returned, her eyes were swollen and reddish as if fresh from shedding tears.

"What happened to you, Ma?" I asked.

"I just went to confession!" -- she said.

I gasped.

"What did you confess?" -- I asked again, excited for her reply.

She said, "My relationship with your father!"

After that, Ma was graced by God this way: Pa's legal wife called her up via overseas call and Ma was able to ask for forgiveness -- to her and to all her children. Mama was trembling talking through the phone. She was forgiven.

Fast forward, Ma had a heart attack and was able to recover. She was able to talk still and she used that opportunity to talk to my father over the phone, to end everything with both of them. Father was only listening to everything my mother said.

And then she had a fatal stroke so that she was already unable to talk. Out of desire, she "confessed" to a visiting priest who gave her extreme unction before she died days after.

Types of visions in my experience

 

Visions, according to my personal experiences, are seen through three ways or, if I may add one, four ways: dreams during sleep, visions seen while my eyes are closed before the Blessed Sacrament, visions seen while I am conscious or in my waking state and natural impressions captured by my camera that, I learned later, have prophetic significance. Let me term the fourth way as "photo-vision" -- or prophetic vision captured through photographs.

The most common are visions seen through dreams and the most rare are visions seen while I am wide awake.

Seeing visions while I am conscious and awake are done two ways: seeing a vision with my own eyes but only I can see it (in my recollection, this kind of vision happened only once and it happened during one of my daily activities); and seeing visions through my mind's eye (this happened a number of times during Holy Masses).

There is still one way that I have difficulty putting a terminology on and this is the fifth way of seeing visions. It's as if God put into my eyes how He sees and it happened during the Holy Masses I attended way back before.

Thinking it was an angel, I was aghast to see it was the Lord Jesus!

 

I had these visions on three separate occasions I visited the Blessed Sacrament chapel of the Sacred Heart of Jesus Parish in Obrero.

On the first day, I was seated on the carpeted floor of the chapel before the Blessed Sacrament as there were no chairs and kneelers yet provided for adorers. While my eyes were closed, a silky light green robe-wearing apparition I perceived as angel carrying an earthen jar was coming to me from the altar and poured water into my lap while I was squatting on the floor.

On the second day, there was this apparition again coming to me carrying an earthen jar -- this time, pouring water into my head but the water was laced with some garbage! Meditating over the apparition, I made up my mind to look up on my next visit to be able to see the face of an angel.

A trial was already besetting me in that church, a wealthy woman was wary on my presence although I was only attending the Mass or praying the rosary. I was like regarded a snatcher or a robber or a lunatic or a weirdo. She appeared afraid of me. She even clang or held onto her husband in fear almost crying. And I suffered because the way she perceived me was not true in reality.

On the third and final day, there came to me this apparition again -- now carrying an elongated, almost flat clam. I was all eyes every time to what the apparition was carrying. The apparition opened the clam before my sight and inside the clam were revealed full of pearls and I was awed at its beauty. There, I remembered my plan to look up and see the face of the angelic apparition. Slowly, carefully, although excited to see the face of an angel, I brought my face slowly up -- and, lo, the penetrating gaze of the Eyes of the Lord Jesus of the Sacred Heart met mine! Surprised, it was the Lord all along since Day 1; I gasped and opened my eyes!

From sprinkler to shower

Prior to the pandemic, when the new Blessed Sacrament chapel of Sta. Ana Shrine Parish was opened to the public, I had a vision of the Lord Jesus Christ when I closed my eyes before the Blessed Sacrament. There were no chairs and kneelers yet for the adorers. We just knelt on the floor before the altar of the Blessed Sacrament.

I was kneeling in the right side of the chapel and other adorers were spread on the whole floor also kneeling. When I began to close my eyes facing the Blessed Sacrament, I saw the feet of Jesus (both marked with wounds) as it was in the act of going down the altar. The wound was fresh and red yet not bleeding. I was only looking intently at His Feet and the end part of His white satin robe flowing.

When the Lord was already standing on the floor, He blessed each one present with holy water using a sprinkler like a priest does -- but when the Lord turned to me, the sprinkler became a shower and He didn't take it away from me so that I opened my eyes in astonishment and the vision ended.

Earliest vision: 3 huge pillars of smoke

One of the earliest, unforgettable visions that I saw in my dream was a vision of three huge pillars of smoke rising and swirling up to the heavens from the earth as I looked at myself standing on the earth looking to the vision amidst the immensity of the outer space.

Cardinal Prevost, now Pope Leo XIV meets Satanist leader

 

Jose Enrique Escardó Steck, a fighting "atheist" from Peru, who at the invitation of the false Cardinal Bob Prevost (currently Anti-Pope Leon XIV) met Antipope Francis in January 2025. How much more proof do people need? (English translation from the post)

Source:

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