It
was a hot afternoon in the summer, early May, of 1991 when I found myself sitting alone in a pew by the side chapel of Santo Domingo Church where our Lady of La Naval is enshrined. I was then young at 20, fresh from the university but uncertain of the future. Wanting to please my father, I was forced to take a course that disinterests me.
He wanted me to continue on to graduate school to be a doctor while my potentials are geared for something else. Moreover, I was bitter over my family’s brokenness and ashamed of its repercussions.
As I sat there, I thought back. I could not remember when was the last time I’ve been to this church considering it was about less than two kilometers away from where I live in Frisco, Quezon City. I then realized how long I was away from the Church; not only this particular church but from the Catholic Church. My years in a secular university had turned me away from my Catholic up-bringing and sectarian education until high school. Religion and spirituality took a back-seat in my first two years of college. I was later caught in the fad of the “born-again” movement and joined a fundamentalist Christian church. It was strange and so unfamiliar yet I bore it because I was eager to be different. I belong to a new religion with popular and modern rituals so unlike the outdated traditions of Catholicism. Yet, there was still emptiness within me. It confounded to the confusion of how faith would work to bring some sense to my life characterized by dysfunctional relationships and economic insecurity.
All these thoughts were racing at random in my mind as I sat transfixed on the beautiful icon of our Lady that I began to talk to her. I felt no guilt while it was considered idolatry by any “born-again” Christian to do so. I was fully aware that it was the unseen spirit represented by the icon, not the icon itself, I was speaking to. Even if I was unsure of any divine presence at that moment, I asked for our Lady’s intercession to assure me that God is listening. In my doubts, I asked for a sign.
Instantly, the bright sunny day began to darkened and covered with clouds. Rain then suddenly poured down with thunder and lighting. It was almost a mystical experience for me. As the rain poured, so were my tears. I never cried in public before and felt unashamed that I had done so. Even still there were only a handful of us in the church that hour.
For the first time in years, I managed to pray the words of the “Hail Mary” in gratitude to her. It was the ultimate act of ‘backsliding’ from being a “born again”. The prayer nonetheless came so natural to me. I then remembered that it was among the first set of Catholic prayers I learned as a child taught by my late grandmother. Back then, I used to mumble meaninglessly the words while supposing to pray the rosary. But at that moment, I uttered it with full understanding and prayed it with the heart. Punctuating the words I prayed, “Pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death, Amen.”
The rains stopped abruptly shortly after. I was ready to leave feeling inspired. Despite the uncertainty, I was hopeful. As I was walking pass the sea of empty pews leading to the front door, I saw a familiar person somberly sitting alone. I knew him to be my batchmate in college. We were in the same course. I knew him better in face but his name escaped my memory. I didn’t bother to stop to even acknowledge him. It would be awkward since we were mere acquaintance in class. I knew he felt the same way. We just gave each other that knowing glance and I went on my way.
I was admitted to the College of Medicine the following month. Coincidentally, it was in a school named after the title of Mary, Our Lady of Fatima. There I was surprised to see the familiar person I saw that faithful afternoon in Santo Domingo Church. He later confirmed that we were indeed there at the same time. He confessed to me about how badly he wanted to get into Medicine despite facing a personal difficulty. By Divine Providence he was admitted. We were supportive as classmates could be for a year. But that was as far as we got. We didn’t continue on exactly as friends when we later had to move on separately.
My classmate is now a surgeon. In fact, I recently saw him on TV. He is a volunteer of an organization devoted to repairing cleft-lips and open palates of those who cannot afford. He was literally bringing smiles most especially on children’s faces. It was commendable of him to lend his expertise to the less fortunate. I believe afterall, God had called him to this endeavor on that miraculous afternoon at Santo Domingo Church 20 years ago. Truly, “nothing is impossible with God.” (Luke 1:37).
As for me, I did not become a doctor. I eventually dropped-out of Med School after two more years. Financial constraints took its hardest blow when my father had renal failure that I had to give-up my study. My father died on October 8, 1998 during the La Naval novenas. I am now in a low-key, unprestigious career. And I still work hard to earn a living.
So, what then was La Naval’s miracle in my behalf?
Theologians shall surely agree if I say that to have regained my Catholic faith and to be brought back to its fold through Mary’s intercession was the greater miracle. Because of my devotion to La Naval, I was inspired to practice the religion I was brought into. But more than just expressing a religion and being ritualistic, I have realized that faith has to be lived.
I had both good and bad weather in life for the past 20 years as a La Naval devotee. By my devotion to her throughout the years since 1991, my faith in God never wavered. I was saved from self-destruction in every personal tragedy I encountered. I could have been easily blown away by the storms such as the terminal illness of my father to his eventual death; frustrations, work dilemmas and shattering interpersonal relationships, if not for our Lady who was perpetually at prayer with me.
Like Mary’s response to God’s divine will, “I am the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word.” (Luke 1:38), I have learned how to come to terms with those beyond my control and let God take over. My devotion encourages me to battle the raging tide of doubt and disbelief. It inspires me to hope amidst the strife of life and be not afraid of the future even with meager resources because I have more than I need-- I have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and the constant intercession of our Lady of La Naval.
I know it was not mere coincidence that my classmate and I were in that particular church, at a specified time, in a precise area. I believe there are no accidents in matters of faith. Coincidence is God’s way of making us recognize His message to us. He uses time, place, things and people around us to coincide with each other to catch our attention; to make us realize that He speaks to us in daily events. We just have to adhere to His words and follow as Mary instructs, “Do whatever He tells you.” (John 2:5). Our Lady undoubtedly is conspiring with the Lord all of the time.
