Beatings of the Heart

We would always associate the beatings of the heart with love. We would all be red on the cheeks as that love invigorates all the nerve endings in our body and pushes all the blood to the heart. Even the smallest neurons would celebrate! Love is like all the stars in the heavens lighting up in one flash.

But there are also moments when the beating of the heart is not borne out of love. It beats when it sees the overflow of tears and the rush of grieving emotions to the heart. At this point, the heart gets confused and red blood that is circuiting in the body turns into blue. Coldness creeps and fear sets in. Where is love?

I have been a battered wife for twenty-six years. Beatings of my heart would turn into a loud sound of a distant big drum that would send drops of water from a frozen block of ice into my mind, my heart, and my soul. The heart becomes cold. The soul becomes dark. The mind becomes callous. The body becomes numb.

Had I not learned to mentally pray and mentally recite my mantra, I may not have survived the ordeal of those beatings. My mantra went this way: “I am the temple of the Holy Spirit!” I would recite that mentally over and over until the beatings stopped and the pain fades. Then comes another round of beatings, I would recite that again and again and again.

For twenty-six years I kept all the physical, emotional and mental pain in my heart. I did not tell a soul, not even my parents, because I stood up for the choices I had made.

There is a reason for everything.

I found good reasons to continue living even under pain and even at the point of death. Back then I was determined to live for my children. I knew that they would need me most as they were growing up. I knew that I had to give them the right reasons not to sow hatred in their hearts. I knew that I had to seek for my inner peace because I could only share what I had in me. I knew that I had to compensate my children with unconditional love after what they had seen and suffered in silence, too.

I believe that the greatest lessons are those learned the hardest way. I believe that when one is down the pit there is no other way but up. I believe that there is a calm after every storm. I believe that there is a tomorrow. I believe that in all sufferings there is a speck of hope and a glitter of gold in the end.

Goodness always prevails over evil. After all, every man is for God’s purpose and every man is created in God’s image and likeness. Then the beating of the heart would be a normal cadence of a serene and melodious music; one that is in harmony with the soul.

There is love. The author of love is always the good end in everything. He is the destiny in our journey. He is love.