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Devastating. This is the only word I could think of as I watched the horrendous aftermath of Typhoon Frank that swept the Philippines last week. Destroyed homes, power disruptions, food and water shortages in provinces like Iloilo marked the fury of the storm. But of all these, Frank showed the full force of his wrath with the sinking of MV Princess of the Stars in Sibuyan Island, Romblon. Only a handful of the more than 800 passengers on board survived the tragedy.

As I watch on TV the family members of the passengers of the ill-fated vessel, I can’t help but empathize with their grief. Those faces that are at all at once hopeful and yet hopeless, expectant yet resigned, mirror sorrow in its most profound form. Not knowing what has happened to a loved one, whether a child, husband, wife, nephew, niece, uncle, aunt, grandparent or friend is still alive or already dead is perhaps the worst form of torture imaginable. How could there ever be closure for them?

Having lost my father recently, I understand the importance of holding vigils, saying prayers and finally, of laying him to rest as vital in the bereavement process. This period somehow eases the initial shock of losing someone so dear, and these ceremonies, if they so be called, smoothens the transition of letting go, and of ultimately accepting the reality of death. I am by no means done with grieving. I don’t think one can ever be “finished grieving.” Perhaps, only time can assuage the pain that death brings. But my only consolation is that deep in my heart, I know that my father is in a far better place, and this helps me a lot in being able to go on with my life.

But what about those whose family members are still waiting for news of their loved ones aboard MV Princess of the Stars? The agony of not knowing where they are, the torture of not being able to give a proper burial- these intensify the feelings of grief a million times over. I can only pray that God give them the courage and the faith to face this trial in their lives. I also hope that the shipping company understands and takes to heart the needs and requests of these relatives. The news on TV features them complaining of their requests going on deaf ears, of not being given sufficient information, of being left in the dark.

I hope that Sulpicio Lines doesn’t treat the passengers on board their boat as mere statistical losses. Everyone on board that ship was once a flesh-and-blood member of a family. He or she had dreams, had loved, had cried, had trusted the shipping company’s judgments enough to travel in the midst of impending storm. Thus, the concerns of their loved ones must be addressed and heard.

Frank’s wrath has subsided for now, but we are left to grapple with the devastation and ruin that he brought on us as a people. Let’s take a moment to say a little prayer to those who were lost in the storm, holding on to the faith in our hearts that though their families may not see them again or may not have the chance to lay their bodies to the grave, God has already brought the souls of those who had perished to the tranquil seas of their Heavenly Home.

Is it possible for the Bible to give clues as to where the next oil reserve is? Zion Oil and Gas, a Delaware corporation formed in 2000 apparently thinks so. Headed by their Founder and Chairman John Brown, a Christian Zionist and New Covenant believer, the company believes that verses in the Bible such as those found in some of the books in the Old Testament point to where a staggering 484 million barrels of oil await discovery. Brown believes that he received the calling to explore oil in Israel in order to give the Jewish people the aid necessary for the Restoration of the Land by “providing the oil and gas necessary to maintain their political and economic independence.”

In fact, one of the activities of Zion Oil and Gas is sponsoring Christians United for Israel’s (CUFI) ”Night to Honor Israel”. In a press release, the company says:

DALLAS–Zion Oil & Gas, Inc. (Amex: ZN) of Dallas, TX and Caesarea, Israel announced today that it will sponsor the Night to Honor Israel banquet at the Third Annual Washington-Israel Summit of Christians United for Israel (CUFI). The Summit will take place in Washington, D.C. during July 21-24 and the banquet on Tuesday evening, July 22. Pastor John Hagee, Senator Joseph Lieberman and Israel’s Ambassador to the U.S., Sallai Meridor, are scheduled to speak at the banquet. It is expected that John Brown, Zion’s Founder and Chairman, will be interviewed by Pastor John Hagee during the Summit and that the interview will be broadcast on the Daystar Television Network during the Night to Honor Israel. In addition, CUFI will broadcast a video about Zion at the banquet’s pre-event, and the banquet’s proceedings will be telecast by live-feed over the Daystar Television network.

John Brown, Zion’s Founder and Chairman, commented today, “Zion is proud to be a part of the CUFI Washington-Israel Summit and to support CUFI’s educational and public policy work in support of Israel.”

Zion Oil & Gas, a Delaware corporation, explores for oil and gas in Israel in areas located onshore between Tel-Aviv and Haifa. It currently holds two petroleum exploration licenses, the Joseph and Asher-Menashe Licenses, between Netanya on the south and Haifa on the north covering a total of approximately 162,000 acres.

NOTICE: Zion Oil & Gas has filed a registration statement (including a prospectus) with the SEC for the offering of its securities. Before you invest, you should read the prospectus in that registration statement and other documents Zion has filed with the SEC for more complete information about Zion Oil & Gas and its offering. You may get these documents free by visiting EDGAR on the SEC website at www.sec.gov. Alternatively, Zion Oil & Gas or its underwriter will arrange to send you the prospectus if you request it by calling toll free 1-888-TX1-ZION (1-888-891-9466). A direct link to the prospectus in PDF format may be found on the Zion Oil & Gas, Inc. website at http://www.zionoil.com/investor-center/investor-relations.html.

For more information on this company and their Joseph Project, please click on Zion Oil and Gas Website where you can also request a free info package by mail.

What happens now? This is the question I always ask myself now that my dad has already been laid to rest. People around me say that life doesn’t stop with death, that there are a still a lot of things that those of us left in this mortal world have to occupy ourselves with, that there are still people who need us. Relatives and friends remind me that I still have a daughter who is only two years old who is dependent on me for everything. And I know that.

Despite this, however, there are moments when I simply can’t move or do what needs to be done. Grief can be very crippling and though I try so hard to let go, part of me seems to want to hold on to the memory of a father who lived so bravely and loved ever so deeply. This might sound too emotional but I know that nothing will ever be the same, that a part of me has died too.

Writing seems the only release for me now. But this I can’t even do without shedding a tear, and I feel so tired and drained at this constant sorrow that hangs over me everyday. How does one cope with such loss? What happens now? Will I ever heal? These are just some of the questions that I ask myself during these trying times. I only pray that God and Mama Mary will give me the strength to go on living. I need that very much.

My father passed away in his sleep last June 7, 2008. He was only 56 years old.

When I was given a second chance at life after being diagnosed with late stage thymoma, living life to the fullest, treasuring every minute in this world became a priority. I didn’t want to entertain the thought of dying. After all, I was spared from it, and I never really thought anyone I love would leave this soon. However, my dad’s peaceful repose brought an end to all that. Nothing could have ever prepared me for this sense of helplessness, sorrow and grief that accompanies his passing. He was a healthy man- he played basketball regularly and never really complained much about his health. He lived life to the fullest, and didn’t give any hint that he was about to go. Thus, his passing came as a shock to most everyone of us close to him.

My dad was a courageous man. He always encouraged us to get a degree, saying that he had nothing else to bequeath us except an education. I graduated magna cum laude because of him. He loved so deeply, and though he had his share of heartaches and heartbreaks, he continued to love nonetheless. He had principles, too, and he stood by them to his dying day. But it was his integrity that I will always cherish and pass on to my daughter as she grows older. He valued hard work and honesty and exemplified these traits exceptionally while he was still alive.

I am still trying to make sense of his passing, and I am certain that part of me will always yearn for his presence. But I know and I feel deep in my heart that my dad is now in a better, richer, more beautiful place that God has prepared for him in Heaven.

I don’t like to say goodbye, for I know that death is not the end of life but a beginning of something greater. Rather, let me bid my father words of sweeter reunions in God’s own time: ‘Til we meet again, Daddy! I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH.

DUMAGUETE CITY- The torrential downpour this week turned an otherwise mundane spillway in Bagacay into something of a tourist spot. My husband and I were making our way towards the Hypermart when we realized we could not get across because the overflow, well, overflowed. The heavy rains had so increased the water level that it flooded the road and caused torrents of brown, muddy river water to gush down at incredible speeds, rendering it impassable to most motorcycles, pedicabs and any other two-to-three wheel contraptions known to man.

To most that is. Because there were not a few brave souls who dared to cross the raging surge, and their attempts, successful or not made for a rather entertaining show to those of us who watched. Some adolescent boys also earned some dough pushing these bold riders to safety as their vehicles stalled in the middle or near the end of the violent flow. The fearless (or perhaps they were practical- turning back means more gasoline, and thus more money spent) drivers who dared the tide also employed different tactics just to make it through. There was one pedicab carrying a full load of passengers whose driver decided that accelerating all the way was the key to a successful cross. Other motorcyclists thought that going slow as one traverses the tide and then accelerating near the end in order to get the their vehicles out of the water was a better idea. One man on a bicycle mulled over his situation and thought that carrying his bike and wading across was his best option.

Many of those who revved up their engine and accelerated from start to finish ended up getting stuck near the end. Those who went slow at first, and then going full throttle near the end had better chances of not stalling, while the man who decided to carry his bike and wade across successfully made it through with his pride and his bike intact.

That scene on a rainy Tuesday afternoon reminded me about the gushing torrents of trials and ordeals that we face in our journey through life, and our responses to them. When faced with troubles, do we hurry through- anxious to get out of it as fast as we can-and curse whoever we can for allowing us to suffer? Or do we tread the waters cautiously, carefully feeling the way, allowing ourselves to immerse in the problem and learn a lesson or two from it?

One of the pamphlets which I got from Carmel Church in Lipa, Batangas is entitled Suffering: How to Make the Greatest Evil In Our Lives Our Greatest Happiness by Fr. Paul Sullivan,O.P. Contrary to the notion that suffering is evil, he writes that “suffering is not simply an evil, for no one suffered more than the Son of God Himself, more than His Blessed Mother or more than the Saints. Every suffering comes from God [because] nothing happens to us without His wish or permission.” Fr. Sullivan believes that God allows people to suffer “because He is asking us to take a little share in His Passion… God suffered all the dreadful pains of His Passion for each one of us. How can we refuse to suffer a little for love of Him?” If borne with the utmost patience, he said that suffering becomes the gold in our lives, bringing out all that is good in us. “Those who have suffered are usually the most charming people.” The key, he says, to graciously bearing all our sufferings whether they are trifle ones or major agonies is to “accept them with serenity and patience. What really makes suffering difficult to bear is our own impatience, our revolt, our refusal to accept it. This irritation increases our sufferings a hundredfold and, besides, robs us all the merit we could have gained thereby.” Besides, God does not allow us to suffer alone. If we ask for help from the Almighty to bear our sufferings, then He gives us the strength to bear our troubles. Fr. Sullivan shares the experience of one doctor who published an article in the secular press on the power of prayer. The doctor claimed that: “Prayer is the greatest power in the world.” He further shared: “I and my colleagues frequently see that many of our patients, whom we have failed to cure or whose pains we have failed to alleviate, have cured themselves by prayer. I speak now not of the prayers of holy people, but the prayers of ordinary Christians.”

This doctor’s proclamation reminded me of my oncologist’s reaction three years ago when he noticed vast improvements in my cancer after only my second chemotherapy. He asked me if I prayed, and when I answered in the affirmative, he nodded his head and said: “Pagpatuloy mo ‘yan. Mahal ka ng Diyos.” (Just keep on praying. God loves you.) Fr. Sullivan also urges his readers (as I do) to ask the help of the Blessed Virgin Mary in our times of suffering, saying: “God gave her all the immense graces necessary to make her the perfect Mother of God, but He also gave her all the graces, the tenderness, the love necessary to be our most perfect and loving Mother.” Certainly, the intercession of the Mother of God is a very puzzling, if not difficult, concept to accept for some, but from one who has experienced the power of her miraculous intervention, I can only say that Our Blessed Lady loves us immensely.

We all have our personal overflows to cross everyday in our lives. Whether we choose to step on the gas and accelerate all the way to the end, or go slow, immerse in the tide or carry our bikes and wade through the turbulent waters, we can be assured that God, like the adolescent boys standing by the overflow, is ever ready to help. Their only difference is, God doesn’t ask for pennies or anything in return. He only requires our faith.

 It’s so easy to thank God when you are at the top of your career, when you are happily married to a loving husband, when the pregnancy test yielded positive results and you know that in nine months you will be blessed with your first baby. When you have all the good things, praising an ever-loving God is easy. But what if you have to stop working because you got sick? What if the possibility of a miscarriage stares at you right in the face? What if you suddenly have to face the thought of leaving your loved ones behind as dying becomes a real possibility? Will you thank God then?

 I was a 26 year old happily married teacher expecting my first baby when I was diagnosed with Stage IV Thymoma—a rare form of cancer affecting the thymus gland. (Normally, the thymus gland disappears as a person grows older. In some uncommon cases, it doesn’t. It grows and becomes malignant). Though faced with a very uncertain future, I continued to trust the goodness of God. Amazingly, the blessings came pouring in. You see, when cancer came knocking into my life, it did not bring with it demise. Rather, in one of God’s miraculous paradoxes, my cancer brought with it life.
 
By the time I was diagnosed, the mass had grown so big that I had developed all sorts of cardiac complications. As a result, my heart was having difficulty pumping blood throughout my system, making my pulse rate go up and my breathing laborious. As if that wasn’t enough, the MRI Scan also showed that the cancer had metastasized to the lungs and other nearby areas. Chemotherapy or radiotherapy had to be administered soon since lying in bed had become very difficult. I had to sit on the chair in order to get some sleep. However in this position, dizzying and vomiting spells constantly plagued me. My baby was in no better condition either as there were days when I had spotting—a sign that not everything was going well inside my womb.

Under those circumstances, radiotherapy was seen as the best possible alternative since it offered the best chance of shrinking the large mass in a short amount of time, thus affording me some relief. Taking this course of action meant the risk of losing my baby.  My little angel had to receive the treatment with me with only a thin abdominal lead shield placed over my stomach to protect her. But we resigned ourselves to the stark reality of losing our firstborn. We cried our confusion, but trusted God nonetheless—hoping against hope that our little angel would make it through. And she did. Chemotherapy followed soon after. My baby and I were given six cycles every twenty-one days. Still she continued to hang on and fight the good fight with me. 

However, when a congenital anomaly scan was about six months into the pregnancy, we were in for more bad news. Fluid had filled my baby’s heart. My doctor explained that this condition could result to fetal death. Despair set in, but we continued to pray. About a month later, a follow-up ultrasound revealed that the fluid had diminished and my baby was thriving well!
 
At eight months, I delivered Maria Carmela via Caesarian section. For a premature baby weighing only 1.55 kilograms at birth, she had a lusty cry that woke me up from my anesthesia-induced sleep. My fears of a deformed baby were put to rest when the doctors held my beautiful and complete baby girl close to me. Amid the ecstatic exultations of my doctors inside the delivery room—“She has such a wonderful cry! She’s our miracle baby! Do we have a camera?”—I knew that God’s hand was again at work.

Although a month premature, Carmela was placed in the incubator at Neonatal Intensive Care Unit of the Medical City for only twelve days. Now, a healthy baby with a ready smile, Carmela is a constant reminder to us that despite all the seemingly insurmountable odds, God is there. He is only a prayer away. With all these marvelous blessings, how can I not get down on my knees and thank Him? At this eleventh hour, when Big C came to visit, I got my faith back. #       
 
   

“To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see.”
Hebrews 11:1

My daughter is my greatest blessing. Bringing her out into the world amid all the odds was a feat that I can only attribute to God’s miraculous grace. Cancer and pregnancy don’t really go well together and undergoing both chemotherapy and radiotherapy—both mainstays in the cancer treatment program—significantly increases the risk of birth anomalies in the fetus. It could only be through God’s extraordinary blessing that our baby girl was born whole and healthy, with the Newborn Screening showing normal results. Adele Pillitteri in her book Maternal and Child Health Nursing explains: “As a rule, women can receive chemotherapy in the second and third trimesters of pregnancy without adverse fetal effects. Radiation therapy, in contrast… puts the fetus at risk throughout pregnancy if the fetus is directly exposed.”
I started receiving both treatments during the first trimester of my pregnancy. When you take that into consideration, you can understand why this case is a medical miracle. Now that I am convalescing, I know that my continued health and that of my daughter’s hinges on God’s providence alone. Human as I am however, there are times when I succumb to worries that God might not continue the miracle He started.

Yesterday was one such day. The news featured an adolescent boy with leukemia whom the news channel’s foundation was sponsoring for chemo treatments. The reporter also interviewed a physician who revealed the causes for this type of cancer. One stood out clearly in my mind: A fetus’ exposure to radiation early on in the pregnancy. My husband, who was happily playing with our child, stopped laughing and simply held our baby close. Exposure? My daughter had more than exposure! She had tons of radiation and x-rays she’s probably bionic!

Dr. O.P. Jaggi in his book Cancer: Causes, Prevention & Treatment reveals that from a scientific standpoint, studies have shown that x-rays and radioactive substances are well-recognized causes of cancer. Nineteenth century mine workers in Czechoslovakia who were exposed to radioactive substances developed lung cancer. A lot of inexperienced technicians working with x-ray machines in the past developed leukemia and skin cancers. Many Japanese who were exposed to the atomic bomb explosions likewise developed leukemia and other cancers.

Then I remember that my oncologist had given me a straightforward answer about a year ago when I asked what my daughter’s chances are of “inheriting” the illness. “If she gets it, leukemia might manifest itself in her adolescent years.” He did give the assurance that this was highly unlikely yet should it come to pass, by then medical science should already have rendered chemo obsolete and found a complete cure for the Big C.

There is nothing for us to do now but strive to give the best possible care for our precious little girl. Because we are treading a very uncertain path, we know that only God’s firm grip can see us through. We have been given a reason to pray.
When I shared this possibility with my mother, her answer was more basic: “She is God’s gift. God’s angels protected her, Mama Mary sheltered her, and Jesus blood washed away all traces of radiation that she received. God won’t allow her to get sick—now or ever.”

Such trust, such confidence. Yet such is faith. I would do well to follow her example.

“This world is not conclusion;
A sequel stands beyond,
Invisible, as music,
But positive, as sound…..”

-Emily Dickinson

Whenever November 1 comes around, I always feel a certain sense of foreboding. Perhaps it has something to do with my fear of death and the unknown. For instance, I would consciously look the other way when passing by funeral parlors and cemeteries. Horror flicks are never on my movies-to-watch list and I would feel like retching whenever I see a dead carcass of a cat or a dog on the street. Oh, I’ve gone on wakes and watched the deceased lying peacefully in their caskets, but I still find funeral atmospheres stifling, to say the least.

Fear is a good thing, I suppose, because it helps one prepare for that inevitable hour when the clock of life would have to come to a grinding halt. It’s peculiar how our time on earth now seems to be one big audition for the after-life. For Christians, the concept of heaven and hell are two motivating factors why life on earth must be of upright consequence. For others, the notion of basic human decency and impressing a fine legacy is enough.

But can we really prepare for death? After all, we know for a fact that there is no exact schedule for passing away. We could go tomorrow, next week, next year—nothing is ever fixed. The only thing that’s certain is we go. When the doctors told me that I had cancer fourteen months ago, the only question that burned inside of me was: If I die now, have I not wasted my life? My whole existence literally flashed before my eyes as I sought to answer my own query. The pain that accompanies each potential dying breath and the physical part of the demise did not scare me as much as wanting to know if I have not wasted my time on earth. In case God convenes a jury to try whether each departed soul was fit for heaven I wanted to be able to properly respond and defend myself. Up to now I’m still searching for an answer as the shadow of mortality stalks me everyday. While looking for that, I strive to know my purpose so as not to waste the second lease on life granted to me. It’s a good thing that I have my baby to care for. I now have a goal as I strive to live my life on a daily basis—that of nurturing the little miracle that has been with me from the start. Surely, loving and ensuring the welfare of God’s gift to me is purpose enough. If this isn’t the only objective of my existence, then I hope the Almighty would be lenient enough to add more sand to my hourglass.

In the end how one prepares for that final destination is a matter of individual preference. Whether preparation entails doing good deeds, heeding God’s call for the ministry, or praying five times a day, pondering on the hereafter is a personal endeavor worth taking because it sets the mood for one’s animate existence in this world. Of course, it’s always easy to go through life without giving death a thought, but every time we celebrate All Souls Day, we know that our time will come. When it does, it would be wonderful to embrace it with no reservations.