One day I noticed that the tablecloth was soiled and dusty. I decided to launder it. When I removed it, I was surprised to realize that I had no more feelings for my idols. They did not enthrall me as they did before. My sister Elen was in the house that day. I decided to give her all my idols. She was utterly delighted.
“Suwerte, suwerte, suwerte,” she chirped.
“Malas, malas, malas,” I countered.
That afternoon, I started to bleed again. It was profuse, but I was still able to go to school. I was scared. I must have blasphemed God by the shabby treatment I gave my idols, I thought. And now God was on the avenging trail against me, I thought. That night, I could not sleep. I was frightened to no end. I even considered going to the hospital after all. I would have gone if we had money in the house. No matter how merciful God is, as I have been taught, I must have insulted Him so much He lost His temper, I thought.
The following day, I was still able to go to school, still not knowing what to do. I came home with a friend. She was a very devout Catholic and traveled home with me for moral support. She kept on repeating that everything would be okay. She was a prayer warrior. But I did not tell her about the idols. I was afraid she would leave me. When we arrived home, I went straight to the bathroom. My husband was home, leaving his office early because he was worried about me. Our combined faiths flew out of the windows. Fear came to fill in the vacuum.
In the bathroom, I was cringing in pain. Then it happened. Two pieces of tissue the size and color of grape were discharged from my body. I saw them in the toilet bowl. Immediately the bleeding stopped. My pain was actually labor pain. The two pieces of tissue were tumors. When I later described the masses to our school physician, he said they were tumors alright. He suggested that I submit to D & C. I said nothing. If God could stand me, He would perform His own version of D & C. The Lord was at it again. When I gave away my idols, the expulsion process began. When the tumors were discharged, the bleeding stopped. I never bled again. What other explanation can you give?
What happened to the idols I gave to my sister Elen? It was not long before I realized that giving her the idols was a dumb thing to do. I was just transferring the curse. Elen lived in our family home in Kamuning. My idols just increased the population of their colony of idols. My mother, a devout Catholic and a prayer warrior in her own right, had diabetes. My brothers and sisters in faith already prayed over her. They expected that the diabetes problem would be licked forthwith. A week after I gave Elen the idols, I visited my mother. I asked her how her diabetes was.
“What healing?!” she exploded. “My sugar has shot up to 200!”
In my distress, I prayed hard. “Lord Jesus, what shall I do? I know how impatient you are with unbelief.” Then I saw them.
My mother’s room was surrounded with rows of my idols on the overhead shelves. I got myself a stool, reached for the idols and started throwing them out of the window. Some neighbors watched, aghast. The window was grilled. Up to this day, I cannot understand how the idols sailed through the windows without once touching the grills. They all landed in the ditch of K-1st St. I immediately instructed my daughter Laarni to retrieve the idols and put them in a sack. I was afraid my mother would recover them. Then I went for the statue of the Virgin Mary in the living room. This statue was used for the block rosary. My older sister snatched the statue away before I could reach it.
I brought my idols home and threw them into the covered creek that crosses EDSA near Quezon Ave. Henceforth, I was called “The Rebolto Killer”. Every time I visit my relatives in Bataan, they guard their altars.
Now I understand why the Old Testament Israelites had a hard time breaking the idolatry habit. Attachment for idols can be pathological.
How about my mother? She lived to a ripe old age of 84.
How about the manual for Botany? When I stopped struggling over it because I was too busy with revivals and crusades, it was finished with no sweat. Then it got approved and copyrighted. It was published by JMC Press Inc. The royalty for the first and second editions went to the Lord; all of it, not just 10%. On the second leaf of the manual are the word: “This manual is heartily dedicated to Our Lord Jesus Christ, my Healer and Deliverer.”
I am writing down this report before I become too old to remember details. This report deals only with the initial stages of my Christian walk. I still have a long way to go. So much excitement has followed my early miracles. Perhaps if I find time to chronicle some if not all of them.
I like to adopt for myself what Billy Graham once said: “I don’t know what the future holds for me; but I know Who holds the future.”