The Broken Wooden Cross

I had a dream that I was walking towards an old provincial church. Like the one in Saint Jude Mandaluyong. It was a small church and I had missed mass already and at the church I saw the people already praying their devotional prayers after the mass.

I went towards the church entrance and dip my fingers in holy water and made the sign of the cross. I went outside and saw a Church bigger than the one that I am in. The bigger church looked like a basilica and the church that i am in looked like a mere chapel.

As I enter the church I noticed that the crucifix on the main altar was broken in half, and his body was only fastened only by the left hand and feet and the other half was missing.

The mass was also over, and the priest approached me and talked to me, although I just cannot recall the conversation that we had. I do remember asking him what happened to the crucifix because it was broken in half. I just cannot remember exactly what he said.

Something about the previous war and when they found the crucifix it was already broken and the other half already missing. I saw a lot of men walked in front of the main alter where the broken crucifix was displayed to pray in communion. I joined the community prayer and then I noticed a person behind me that was talking during the prayer that I reprimanded him to be silent and he gave me a look that he was not pleased on being told.

As I looked at the his face, I was not joining the community prayer anymore I was just silent and looking towards him with his broken crucifix behind him. “I will find the missing half…” i said to him in the dream

In the dream I told him in my mind that I will try to find that missing part of the cross and restore it. And then in the dream I felt that the missing cross had something to do with me. Although I did not understand what that meant, but it felt like heaven to me, it was very serene, peaceful and tranquil although i was on earth. I was inside the old church and the church is the house of God. – April 14 2016


Murdered Monks 05/20/2011


Last Night I woke up around 3:40 AM from a Demonic Dream. I was in a 5 star hotel lobby and we were at the ground floor and I can hear everyone was talking about the 2nd level and there was a situation on that level. And then after a while I found myself talking to some people asking them what had happened and what time it had started.

I was in my hotel room. The room was made entirely of clear glass, the walls, the floor and the ceiling except the door. Inside everything was glass but when outside, its just a normal hotel room.

It was raining out so I decided to close the all glass windows, and noticed that every time I took a step, a part of the floor was falling below, its like the room itself is about to collapse because the glass panels aren’t secured at all.

I went out of the room, and I was out in the hall way when suddenly i was being pulled towards the end of the hall way though an opened door. I found myself in a alley and it was night time. As I walked along the spanish steps, I saw a-franciscan monk or carmelite monk, Im not really sure what his order was-lying on the cobble stone pavement. I went closer to investigate and realized that he was dead, they’ve been murdered and there were blood everywhere. As I looked around, I was surrounded by different monks and they where all murdered and bathing on their own blood. They were all wearing a brown rob with a rope tied on their waist and leather sandals. I this on monk, he is still standing and leaning on the alley wall. His gaze was fixed towards him, like he was watching a movie. I walked towards him and looked at the direction that he was looking, but there was nothing there. In front of him was the entrance of the monastery from which I believe his order belongs.

The main doors were torn from its hinges, my gaze could not penetrate the inside of the chapel, it was very dark but at the door entrance there are a lot of murdered monks lying on the chapel grounds, as I  walk towards the torn chapel gates I found myself again in the hotel hallway and again I was being pulled by some invisible force towards the end of a hallway, I saw a figure standing there. And from there I saw a young boy, handsome and dark haired and he was smiling, but I felt a feeling of evil from this boy. In my heart I felt this strong malice and hatred towards me.I found myself I was holding a bottle of holy water on my right hand as I was being pulled towards him. Then he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, he had a forked tongue like a snake and it was black and the he spoke but I could not understand what he said, it sounded more like growling and when he does this his face looked a bit distorted, as I was being pulled closer and closer, and then suddenly I woke up.

Another Demonic Nightmare 04/23/11

Last night I awoke from a dream just to realize that I was in the nightmare. Ever since my soul was in the state of mortal sin, I find it hard to pray although my soul longs and cries out to God. I feel my soul is confined within a deep dark prison within me, surrounded with thick walls of sin from which Grace cannot enter.

Although at first I was not able to see them, I was able to hear them, I see dark shadows surrounding me, I can hear their voices and in my heart I can feel their intent, their maliciousness, their vindictiveness, their hatred towards me. They wanted to rip my soul into pieces. I was watching from inside a transparent mantle. I see them in trying push themselves into me, trying to penetrate the mantle which surrounds me to enter inside me. Pound by pound they hurl themselves at me but to no avail.

One thing I noticed, they are a lot stronger than before, I can feel force of their strengh and I can feel them overwhelming me. I try to will my self to pray but I could not. I could not find the words in my mind. Even though this experince would have to be one of my most harrowing ordeal and with my own strength I could do nothing, I was not afraid.

Then suddenly, just as when the aliviation from my predicament seemed lost, these words came to my soul…”the precious blood of Jesus…the precious blood of Jesus…the precious blood of Jesus…” My soul seemed to repeat those words over and over and over, and once the demons heard these words hastely they flee from it until they were gone. I still kept on repeating those words until finally I had woken up…

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Filipino Catholic Priest on Hoverboard during Mass

Previously I read an article given by ArchBishop Socrates Villegas to Priest to stop abusing the homily, please click on the link below. Would the fall under the same category of abuse? At the end of the video the priest even said “Maraming Salamat, ituloy naten ang concert…Magsitayo po ang lahat” (Thank you, lets continue the concert…Everybody Stand…)

The homily should be focused on the gospel it should not be used as an avenue for the priest to hold mini concerts, song numbers, comedy bar skits, political platforms, or any form of narcissistic self expression of the priest. The mass is about Jesus and the homily should reflect mysteries of faith and the light of Christ.

click on link to view the article

Redemptionis Sacramentum [67.]

Particular care is to be taken so that the homily is firmly based upon the mysteries of salvation, expounding the mysteries of the Faith and the norms of Christian life from the biblical readings and liturgical texts throughout the course of the liturgical year and providing commentary on the texts of the Ordinary or the Proper of the Mass, or of some other rite of the Church.[147] It is clear that all interpretations of Sacred Scripture are to be referred back to Christ himself as the one upon whom the entire economy of salvation hinges, though this should be done in light of the specific context of the liturgical celebration. In the homily to be given, care is to be taken so that the light of Christ may shine upon life’s events. Even so, this is to be done so as not to obscure the true and unadulterated word of God: for instance, treating only of politics or profane subjects, or drawing upon notions derived from contemporary pseudo-religious currents as a source.

[147] Cf. Ecumenical Council of Trent, Session XXII, 17 September 1562, on the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, Chapter 8: DS 1749; Missale Romanum, Institutio Generalis, n. 65.

The celebration of the Holy mass was never about the priest, it’s about Jesus. The Priest should not distract the people from God because the Mass is the Highest form of Prayer. mdj

La celebración de la Santa Misa fue nunca sobre el sacerdote, es acerca de Jesús. El sacerdote no debe distraer al pueblo de Dios porque la masa es la forma más elevada de oración. mdj

Referece Link Filipino Catholic Priest on Hoverboard during Homily

Black book with Gold Writings


1st dream – Black book, gold writing

I had a dream last night and in the 1st dream, I saw in front of me a black book with no title. And then I heard in the back ground what seem to be singing from a men’s choir accompanied by orchestral music.  As the singing started, the book started to open and unfold, and as the singing continued. Golden characters began to appear along the pages of the book. The book seemed to be writing on it own with these golden writings. The characters are unknown to me.

As the singing went on, the writings went on as well. And then it came into a point where I had realized in the dream that the characters were names of people. And there was one point in the dream where I saw my name there being written. Although the characters were still unknown, in the dream I knew that I was my name being written in gold against the black pages.



2nd dream – Training in the Sanctuary

In the 2nd dream that I had, I was training 5 people that I didn’t know. We were in-front of the sanctuary and behind me the pews were empty.  And in the dream I liked what I was doing and I said in the dream, this is what I wanted to do. Then as I turned around there were a lot of people seated in the pews. The church was filled and more people are still coming in. And in the dream I said “oh my, so many…” and then I woke up.

Saint Bridget of Sweden & the Ave Maris Stella


It is believed that later in her life Saint Bridget of Sweden, their founder, was attacked by a mob that wished to burn her at the stake. Immediately she prayed to Our Lord for protection, and He spoke to her and said:

“It doesn’t matter if they plot your death. My power will break the malice of your enemies. I was crucified only because I permitted it.”,

to which Our Lady added: “Sing as a group the “Ave Maris Stella” (Hail, Star of the Sea) and I’ll guard you from every danger.” As they were singing, they repeated the line “Solve vincla reis” (Break the captives’ fetters) as a petition to Our Lady, and she answered by lifting Saint Bridget from the pyre and scattering the mob.

Blessed Isidore Bakanja, Martyr of the Scapular

Bl. Isidore Bakanja, Martyr.preview

Blessed Isidore Bakanja, Martyr of the Scapular

Blessed Isidore Bakanja

Isiidore Bakanja worked as an assistant mason for white colonists in what was then the Belgian Congo and later known as Zaire. Convert, baptized 6 May 1906 at age 18 after receiving instruction from Trappists missionaries. Rosary in hand, he used any chance to share his faith; though untrained, many thought of him as a catechist. He left his native village because there were no fellow Christians.

He further worked as a domestic on a Belgian rubber plantation. Many of the Belgian agents were atheists who hated missionaries due to their fight for native rights and justice; the agents used the term “mon pere” for anyone associated with religion. Isidore encountered their hatred when he asked leave to go home. The agents refused, and he was ordered to stop teaching fellow workers how to pray: “You’ll have the whole village praying and no one will work!” He was told to discard his Carmelite scapular, and when he didn’t, he was flogged twice. The second time the agent tore the scapular from Isidore’s neck, had him pinned to the ground, and then beaten with over 100 blows with a whip of elephant hide with nails on the end. He was then chained to a single spot 24 hours a day.

When an inspector came to the plantation, Isidore was sent to another village. He managed to hide in the forest, then dragged himself to the inspector. “I saw a man,” wrote the horrified inspector, “come from the forest with his back torn apart by deep, festering, malodorous wounds, covered with filth, assaulted by flies. He leaned on two sticks in order to get near me – he wasn’t walking; he was dragging himself”. The agent tried to kill “that animal of mon pere”, but the inspector prevented him. He took Isidore home to heal, but Isidore knew better. “If you see my mother, or if you go to the judge, or if you meet a priest, tell them that I am dying because I am a Christian.”

Two missionaries who spent several days with him reported that he devoutly received the last sacraments. The missionaries urged Isidore to forgive the agent; he assured them that he already had. “I shall pray for him. When I am in heaven, I shall pray for him very much.” After six months of prayer and suffering, he died, rosary in hand and scapular around his neck.  (

by Sr. Helena of Mary