Quaint Streets, Holy Week and Many, Many Sweets

Hello Everyone,

First off…

Happy Easter

Yes I know I’m past Easter Sunday, but for us Catholics/Christians, Easter ends at Pentecost…so the celebration doesn’t end yet! Of course, when I say “celebration” I don’t mean party until you can’t move; what I mean is I constantly remind myself that my life, my soul and my spirit were saved by God. Without his precious gift of sacrifice, we wouldn’t even have something to celebrate about.

Now as some of you already know, I went to Belgium over Easter Weekend, which I was quite devastated about, but also quite excited for. You see, for me Holy Week and the Easter Weekend should have been devoted to the church. It is only recently that I’ve decided to take up the tradition of going to the Pascal Triduum (that is, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday). However, because of my parents’ spontaneous decision to return to Belgium (which was spurred on by my sister’s constant pleas), we couldn’t go. Of course I was sad and rather at war with myself to not want to go, but because it was Belgium, and because I really enjoyed it the last time, I decided to why not!

That is why, I’m writing a post about it now. In the past, those of you who actually know me, have had to endure the constant hopping off to places, and calling them my favourite. In all honesty, my favourite place is Bruges. Yes Bruges. It’s quaint, mostly safe, and the chocolate stores there are endless (although some are quite expensive). At its heart are a hospital and a Catholic church. The cobblestone streets are sometimes filled with endless tourists, but regardless of the crowd, it is still somewhat cosy.

Now I may sound like an advocate for Bruges, even a travelogue but I assure you I’m not. I’ve been to many places around the world, and I’ve tried to recount all my experiences there, but none of that matters anymore, because I’ve found my heart in Bruges, the supposed “Venice of the North”. Something about those streets, lined with souvenir shops, chocolate shops, bakeries, cafes and knick-knacks, all seem to call me home. The houses with the stepped gables look like something out of a Christmas village, and the countless bridges that cross the winding river are all something that makes me feel warm inside.

Yes it’s cold there (well it was when I went), and yes the language is difficult to understand (they speak both French and Flemish), but nevertheless, it is home.

Believe me, if you decide to go to Belgium, I recommend Bruges. If you’re religious, like me, you’ll love the churches there. There are three main ones you’ll have to look out for, and they’re very easy to spot (although it’s quite hard to remember the names that belong to them).

The first church you should go to is the Basilica of the Holy Blood. It’s out of the way, but easily found. It doesn’t quite look like a church, but I assure you it does. If you look at the image below…you see the dark grey building, embellished with decorated columns, and gold? That’s the church. She doesn’t look like much, not even on the inside, but if you sit there in silence, for at least 5 minutes, you’ll definitely feel the peace and serenity the House of God offers.

Oh I forgot to mention, the Basilica holds a relic claiming to be the blood of Jesus, hence the name The Basilica of the Holy Blood. I don’t quite believe it, but regardless, the idea that something of the Christ is near to me (not just in the Eucharist but – excuse the pun – “in the flesh”) is one that fills my heart with joy.

The next church you should go to is the Church of Our Lady. This one is probably going to be the noisiest one, and I highly doubt you’ll get to enjoy the peace and quiet as the Basilica of the Holy Blood offers. You see there is a statue there, created by Michelangelo, yes the same Michelangelo that painted the Sistine Chapel, called the Madonna. It features Mary sitting as she contemplates, with the child Christ between her knees. The reason why it’s so famous in Bruges is because it is one of the very few pieces of art, created by Michelangelo that is not in Italy. Not to mention there are various other pieces featured in their museum (which also happens to be inside the church).

Now I know what you’re going to say, “That’s a lot of religion in one post!” but that’s the thing! I don’t care. As long as there are those out there who actually understand that my religion is not just a belief, it’s a way of life, a lifestyle. It’s a habit I can’t get rid of, and don’t want to get rid of, because it fills my heart with joy every time I remember why I love being Catholic.

Sometimes the traditions may be boring and simple, repetitive even, but if I relinquish society’s dogma of hedonism, minimalism and individualism (which tend to be negative) then the repetitiveness, the simplicity of these traditions are a blessing. In fact, I find them refreshing. Everything in this world has become complicated, the media, technology, medicine, and yes even law. It is because of this complicatedness that I retreat to the church every now and then, they don’t ask much of me. What they do ask (and they do ask this all the time, although no one seems to hear) is that I simply sit down for a few minutes, in silence. Rid myself of the distractions all around me, and in my own way, talk to God. Sometimes it’s not direct. Sometimes I talk to Mary or Jesus. Sometimes I repeat the basic prayers and let my mind go blank because I know he’s listening to the deepest needs of my heart. Sometimes I simply sit there and look at the altar, my mind blank and devoid of any thought, because it is in this quiet that God can enter my soul and heal me, and I promise you, if you let him, he will heal you too.

So that marks the end of this post (I know it’s long, but hey what can you do?). As always, do with this post what you will, and I’ll see you next time. God Bless. ^^

Miraculous Interventions

Ok so I know things have been weird lately, I've been more vocal yes, but recently I have been feeling very down, I mean very depressed and desperate lately. But don't worry, I'm not going to become the story of agony, actually I wanted to share a few revelations with you. No I don't mean prophecies (that would have been cool) but more of stories that had enhanced my own faith. Oh and I won't be writing in paragraphs, per say,  the paragraphs will be the different stories, so sorry if it looks like bad grammar.

The first story is about a dream I had many years ago, when I was just starting out secondary school (British school system). What happened in the dream? Well...It started with me waiting in a waiting room, with a bunch of other people, I couldn't find my family, but everyone was talking and happy at the same time, and I guessed that they were there somewhere. Suddenly I herded into a line with some other people. When I got to the front (like you would when you're at a queue in a theme park or ordering food at a fast food place) I was faced with a door, and had to way a while, because the person in front of me had just gone in. Suddenly the door opened and I stepped through. On the other side of the door, was a path, on the side of the cliff - like you would have when a road has been carved out on a mountain. Well there wasn't much to it, because only a few feet away, there was a large tree (I can't really remember but I think it was a willow) and under the tree there were two men dressed in white robes. They were just standing there looking at me with smiles on their faces. I smiled back and stood before them. But instead of facing them, I faced the wall to my left. It wasn't high, in fact it stood up to my chest. While I was standing there I suddenly posed, like a waitress, but instead of a tray of food, I held books. Then one of the men standing there suddenly spoke. He said "Vanessa you are now called..." Now I don't even know what he called me because I actually can't remember, it's like I knew what it was in the dream but I couldn't remember it when I woke up. However he continued saying, "This means love and..." again I cannot remember what he said, there have been a few candidates in my mind, intelligence, beauty...But for the life of me I cannot associate them with it. In fact I think the only thing that will spark that memory is if I actually re-enact it out, but I know that won't happen until I die. Well if it does happen, I'll be very glad it did.

The next story is another dream I had, around the same time as the story above. It basically was about the end of the earth. I was sitting at home looking out through the front window, and I looked up at the sky, and a large hole was developing, you could see the stars through it, and I knew something bad was going to happen. While the hole kept growing, it started to rain - from the hole - and everything the rain touched, outside, burned. I ran to my door, to tell the people outside to hurry inside and be safe, but they couldn't hear me, it was like my voice was non-existent. So instead, I ran back inside the house, and gathered my family in front of the window, and told them to pray. When I did, I saw the Earth, in all its entirety in the universe, as if I was no longer part of the story. After a while, it started to change, it's sides stretched. Think of Saturn and it's rings, and imagine the actual planet's sides were stretched to its rings, this is how I saw the Earth. It continued to stay like this for a while, then, like a lava lamp the main body of the earth slowly rose from the ring, and a new Earth was born. This was one of the most surreal experiences I had in all my life, I couldn't understand why I had the dream, or what it meant. But I'm glad I did, because now, looking back at it, it symbolised the change in my world, I was going through major changes during that time, and looking back, I was creating a new world, metaphorically.

Ok so the next story is basically about the Holy Spirit and how it helped me, when I was lost. I was coming back from a birthday party, this happened in like Year 9/10 (again British school system) and my mum and my sister had come to pick me up and we were using the London Overground. It was the first time we'd ever used it, so typically we didn't know what to do. Suddenly two young men came up to us, because they needed to use the ticket machine - they were also getting on the train - they paid for their tickets and in the process showed us how to buy ours. So we did, and when we went to enter the station, I looked around for the two men, because I wanted to thank them for helping us, but I couldn't find them. It was like they had vanished into thin air. Later on my mum told me that she thought they were angels of the Holy Spirit, because on the way over she had experienced something similar, when she was going to pay for parking, she saw a man walking his dog, he told her that she didn't need to pay for the night, and he turned a corner afterwards. She followed him, to thank him, but she couldn't see him, again like he vanished into thin air. I know this can all be explained, like he had probably turned down a different way to where we thought they were going, but in our terms, being a faithful Catholic, these things are acts of God, and his Spirit, and we are blessed to feel and experience them.

Now this last story is the most sobering one I've had, and by sobering, I mean really remember why I'm Catholic. This happened last night/early this morning, if you go by the time. It started with a nightmare I had, and in this nightmare I was with my cousins talking about something, and I looked up. A bloodied girl was on the ceiling, and looking down at us, I screamed and asked it what it wanted, it told me it wanted me to scream until I had blood running out of my orifices, until I died. I woke up straight after this dream really paralysed with fear. I didn't want to go back to sleep for fear I might have the same dream. But I knew I had to go back to sleep. So what I did was because I knew that if I called, He would help me. I prayed, three times, the Lord's prayer, the Hail Mary and the Glory Be. Then I went back to sleep, albeit more fitful than the last. In this dream, I was looking for the author of a book, with my aunt (we think of her more as a cousin than an aunt). When we found this author we asked her a few questions about a book we had read, and she started to quote the bible, and talk about Jesus, then suddenly she said, "I have always loved you and will always love you". Then suddenly all I could see was this woman, she was looking straight at me, as in my soul, and as clear as day she said, "This body is not yours. Leave." That was when I woke up. I could feel my body and everything around me, but I couldn't move. I was literally paralysed, because I could feel the crushing weight of something on me, not exactly on me, but inside of me, I felt crushed, I couldn't function, then I remembered her last words and like a mantra I kept saying in my head, well I think I kept saying it, I actually didn't really say it. And slowly the weight was starting to lift, so I actually said the words, "This body is not yours, leave" and suddenly I was free, I felt so relieved, and joyful that I started to cry. After a while, I did pray the rosary, the Glorious Mysteries. I'll never forget this experience, it was one of the most scariest I've ever had, and one of the most uplifting, because for the past few weeks I had been feeling lonely and depressed, and it felt like I couldn't find a way to feel happy about anything. But this incident, I knew, no matter how lonely I got, I would always have God to help me.

So yes, all these things really did happen, and I know there may be scientific explanations, but I don't really want to hear them, because in my opinion they helped me remember my faith, and yes they may be controversial, but I'd like them to inspire people, not crush their dreams. I know I sound like a preacher, but I'm not, I'm just a young girl trying to find my purpose in life, and for now, this is all I can do, tell you of what I've experienced and hope you can learn from them. Not all things are bad, if you do the best you can to live in the light, you will see the wonders of God, whether it's the Christian God you worship, the Islamic, the Jewish, or any other religion, no matter what you believe in, there is always one Almighty God and He/She is one and the same. There should really be no barriers. It's just culture and men that tell us what to believe. To quote the movie Angels & Demons, "religion is flawed, because all men are flawed."