Mother T. How I met her.

It was a warm afternoon when I suddenly came out of my meditation hearing the voice “Mother T died.”

Mother T?
Who is Mother T?
Where did that voice come from?

Perplexed, I ended the meditation and continued the daily routine of life. Turned on the TV as a background noise, the news announced that Mother Teresa died.

Mother Teresa?
Who is Mother Teresa?
What is so important about her death?

Then I found out who she was.

Mother Teresa, the nun of Calcutta.

This is how I met Mother Teresa on Sept 6, 1997.

Last night I had a dream.

In my dream, my mission was to exorcise a bad spirit staying in a room. To get there I have to take an elevator to the top floor. So I did. Arriving at my destination, the room was small as a closet space. The window is wide open. I could see blue sky and patches of clouds billowing. A warm sunny breezy afternoon and the light was beaming on the bed.

The wall of the room is decorated with blue and white. A good color combination.

The bed is made of wooden frame, no mattress. In between the frames, water is streaming like a river. Is this a water-bed or what? I thought.

I was called to cast out evil spirit in this room but my body does not feel
a single tingling sensation, not even the hair on my neck is standing.

Calm. All I can feel is calm.

Instead, I prayed and poured out all the blessings on the bed and water.

Then I woke up.

Today, my friend wanted to go to church for Mother Teresa’s Feast Day. I really do not want to go because I am saving my energy for a Labour Day party at the stadium.

But then again, when a good thing is calling, I must listen to it. So I gladly went to church.

At the church, people were wearing white top and different shades of blue scarves as an accent. I realized I was also wearing a blue blazer.

When I attend a church service, I close my eyes and open my ears. With eyes close, I can concentrate listening to the spoken Words.

Then your light shall rise in the darkness,
and your gloom shall become like midday:
[…] like a flowing spring whose waters never fail.

Hearing this verse, I opened my eyes and the dream came flooding back again.

The blue, white, flowing water.

Strange. Stranger things do happen still.

Mother T, there she is again, in my dream.
Mother TeresaCalm. An unexplainable calmness filled my whole being.

Image: Photo courtesy of Angelo Siglos,

11 thoughts on “Mother T. How I met her.

  1. She saw pain as a gift from God. That is fine for a person to decide that for themselves and to act accordingly. She ministered to the poor and the sick but denied them pain medication when they needed it. She felt pain brings us all closer to God. These patients were already brought close to Christ through their poverty. I do not agree with denying pain meds to the suffering. It should be the patient’s choice…even if they are poor they still have the dignity of a human individual.

    It is a paradox, isn’t it? It unsettles me.

      • I understand what you mean by having a relief on pain based on physical level. I don’t know how MT operate on a clinical level. But I do understand how pain can transcend us on a spiritual level.

      • Well, when the levels are high enough it will certainly flip you into an alternate reality where you are not able to provide for yourself or groom yourself and you don’t care if you eat.

        I’m a multiple morbidity, handicapped person who is also a pain patient. I have always felt closer to God when I am enjoying the splendor of nature. Pain, meh, its not a gift and it doesn’t lift me higher, it drags me down and gets in my way…but then religion is a very personal belief. 🙂

Write it up, write it down, it will make us feel better.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s