Desert Five: The other Joseph the dreamer

 

I am alien to my own family, my own brethren, my own flesh and blood.

I leave.  

I hide. 

They persecute me for no reason at all. 

And they have all the reasons to hate me. 

One nearly crippled my right knee -- out of jealousy! 

I have kept a distance. 

A safer distance. 

"For my love, they are my adversaries." 

I run away from house when the world is an enemy. 

For, they side with those who disagree with me. 

Tearing more the wounds. 

Never to heal. 

A family is hardly a refuge in time of adversities. 

It's safe to be alone. 

Safest to suffer alone. 

"My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" 

Father and Mother had loved me. 

But both are now past earth-life. 

Jealousy! 

Envy! 

These rule the hearts! 

Why, O God, why? 

Simply because I was loved more? 

Is it my fault? 

Were my parents to blame? 

Or: was it Divine Grace to be favored that much? 

And, no matter how parents tried to make it secret, still would it make manifest. 

The other Joseph the Dreamer? 

Dreams in my sleep that I dream: dreams that came to pass and dreams that are about to come to pass. 

A dreamer of prophecies? 

Or: a prophet of dreams? 

But, God, You know better than I.

Last Part: The instrument

The cellist of the Manila String Machine before the quartet's concert held recently at SM Lanang Premier in Davao City, Philippines

(Last of Two Parts: See previous story here)

I never pursued Master of Arts and Doctorate since God has spoken into my heart through the words of my professor who, after my accident and successful climb in Mount Apo, said, and I quote: "You can now write a book because you have experience."

But God, in fact, was forming me to be simple, although I had the chance to pursue masteral in Theology out of free post-graduate studies offered at the local Ateneo. It was a temptation. But "something" prevented me so that I was not able to pursue it.

Even if I were to pursue it, I still would not be able to defend a thesis work because I am not good in conversational English. "[..] can write good English but he cannot speak good English," I used to hear this from my professor.

Interior locution is a Divine gift wherein Divine messages are heard word-for-word through the heart of the gifted. This is not my case. I have received nothing of this sort -- but an idea, a thought, a feeling, an abstract form of "something divine" implanted into and is received by my heart with unexplained joy in the spirit and thus expressed in writing in the style and availability of tools that the instrument has in his person.

Sometimes, I have a dilemma whether or not to publish certain inspiration which is much opposite from what is always heard in the local pulpits. But when I press the "publish" button, I feel the surge of joy coming out from my heart which is, otherwise, ruled by uneasiness or restlessness if I did the contrary.

Should this blog be regarded as divinely-inspired is not my concern at all, much less whether the directives from Heaven are heeded or not. For, as St. Bernadette Soubirous said, "My job is to inform, never to convince." Certainly! For, to convince is God's Own Action manifested in the "signs, wonders and miracles" that follow after each publication.

Why, then, is God using the worst of sinners as me in this calling? I, too, wondered; but, oh, now I see -- it is but to demonstrate to the world that He is truly Mercy.

“Love your misery, for upon it God exercises His mercy.” -Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity

First Part: The instrument

The cello

(First of Two Parts) 

“I have been all things unholy. If God can work through me, He can work through anyone.” -St. Francis of Assisi

I am a sinner, first and foremost, a sinner worse than anybody in the world, living or dead, a sinner guilty of every sin, hell-deserving, equally prideful as the fallen chief angel-turned-devil; but I have an edge: I recognize my miseries, I recognize God's Mercy.

I will not dare write in this profile about the Divine Calling that I have found myself in out of respect for the clergy and the bishops of the Archdiocese of Davao. But I am walking on the path of this calling.

I graduated a Bachelor's degree in the Arts with Mass Communication as major -- but I am not brilliant. Let me tell you an inside story. I should not have graduated, in the first place, because I had flunked one subject which I needed to pass to graduate.

But some faculty members, moderators of the college yearbook, wanted me in for the editorial staff of that year's yearbook.

To shorten the story, my 5.0 was changed to a passing grade through the intervention of one of the moderators. Or was it a Divine Intervention? Because that particular yearbook became the starting point of this calling, that is, the blog, "The Heart Where I Will Speak" -- as a dream would confirm later.

I pursued business news and feature journalism as job after graduation -- but my heart is into prose and poetry, my "first love." I decided to stop.

My major's description, I see later, is a portent to the Divine Calling that I was to follow these days: "MASS COMMUNICATION" -- or, "COMMUNICATING the Holy MASS" in the web as this. (Click here to continue)

Manila Bulletin, July 8, 2013 issue