Crying silently

It's probably my monthly visitor that makes me this sentimental. But yes, I've been crying. For a dream. I've never really cried for it before. It is the first time I cried for it. I wrote my dream on a yellow post-it paper, and stuck it on the mirror on my cabinet. I cried to God to help me fulfill it.

This is not the first time though, that I cried for a dream.

The first time I ever cried and begged God for something was back in 1993 or 1994, I think. I was in our bathroom in the Philippines, hurting. Hurting because of politics. I couldn't take all the pointless fighting. I begged God to take me away from politics. To take me away from the pain. He did. My tears took me to Malaysia.

The second and third time was when I wanted to pass the Swedish test, SFI level and university level. I knew that if I didn't pass the tests as soon as possible, I would be too old to "restart" journalism. I remembered sitting in the corner of my old bedroom in Sätunavägen in Märsta and cried the whole night before the SFI test. And on the bed the whole Saturday afternoon before the university level test. Both times, God heard me.

The fourth time was when I was to enter the "infamous" journalism college at Stockholm university - the tests here were said to be very tough, and only a few were taken in. I got in.

The fifth time was when I cried for Marcus. Because I realised he was Mr Right.

The sixth time was when I cried the morning after undertaking four operations at the hospital due to childbirth. Doctors said they might need to remove my uterus to stop me from bleeding and thus save my life. As if four operations were not enough and I had to take the fifth one! I never really cared about my uterus before. I didn't know where it was located and how it looked like, for goodness' sake. But I cried my heart out and asked God to keep my uterus, and to keep my life. Because I happened to have Tuwa. I promised Him so many things if only He could give me a chance to live and keep my uterus at the same time. AS you can see, I survived, with my uterus still intact.

The seventh time was, well, it's still a secret. But even that He gave to me.

Since then I didn't want to ask Him any more. It felt unfair, because I know there are so many other people He needed to help.

But now, after three years, I am crying my heart out again...What more can I promise Him so He will fulfill my heart's desire? And my desire is not for myself only. It is also for the sake of my baby...

God...you know the desire of my heart. I will be good, I will bless people back. But let your will be done.