At six I was sent to stay with my Grandma so that I could go to school without any interruptions. Dad was posted to Kuching, Sarawak and my family was travelling quite a bit. Grandma used to wake me up at 5.00am so that we could go for the 6.00am mass before she sent me to school nearby the church. It was a Catholic School. It was a must to say the rosary at 7.00pm everyday at home.
I used to go to church I remember even during my work days in a bank during lunch breaks. The same church I used to go with my Grandma. Sitting in the church I would speak to Mother Mary and the Lord Jesus and just gaze at their serenity and relish in their peacefulness. There was always something missing in my life. Something I couldn't place my finger on and would come to know only when I had the honor and privilege of having raised my kids as a Doctor and a Lawyer and when I started writing upon the sudden demise of my youngest brother in 2007. My brother was the catalyst in my finding the passion and love of writing poetry.
I began to feel exhilaration just watching my poems come alive. My ability to delve into my sub-conscious mind and create beautiful inscriptions based on an image that only the gentle nudging of the Lord can relate to was an inspiration to me. I am sure it is Him and His presence when I write.
I went to a Catholic College to do my Pre-University run by nuns. Every given day was in honor of the Lord. I did not complete my degree as I guess God had other plans for me.
I write in brief of my upbringing to let you know of my Catholic surroundings as I was growing up which instilled in me my beliefs.
After I started writing, I could sense a degree of evil and sinfulness surrounding me. Pagans, black magic and witch craft with evil men and women who kill and take innocent lives for the sake of a twisted belief in their religion. They still are after me. After years of abuse in their hands via satellite and otherwise, God sent an army of men via the same channel to rescue me - God's own army that he handpicked I believe. All through the days of abuse in the hands of evil, God was there with me. I sleep with my rosary in hand. Clasping it tight and calling out to the Lord on days that their evil rituals are directed at me. How would have I survived otherwise?
I have escaped many times from the hands of death. My God walks ahead of me and the army behind me I tell them - the evil doers. Many a time, they have possessed me with evil spirits but my faith being strong and with the priests and religious praying incessantly for me, they have failed miserably in killing me. They have lost their souls to the same devil that they use to attack me and the innocents.
There were days when I thought I would die, lying on my bed clasping the rosary and crying out the name of the Lord. The pain was unbearable some days and they tortured me relentlessly. The thought of my husband and children kept me going. There were days when the pain wrecked through me like thunderbolts and I asked the Lord to release me from this suffering and take me back to his Kingdom.
I was never sure if I would wake up the next day.
They came in millions but I bear testament of the fact that the Lord Jesus kept me alive and have to a certain degree given me victory over their evil deeds. Now all I can hear and read is that their deceit and snares are falling apart - just like a deck of cards, crumbling!
They are killing their own and their lives are now being tortured by the same evil spirits that they had control over.
I don't know why God chose this life for me. Maybe because of the conversations I used to have with him as a young child. I have many more out there who are waiting to kill me. But I have put my footprints where it matters and God and His Army of Men have now been positioned to take over if anything happens to me. My legacy will be followed by the millions too.
It is a miracle I survived thus far and there are many out there who will bear testament to this.
(to be continued)
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