Extraordinary Experiences of Sister Daisy A. Delfin
by Daisy A. Delfin
Copyright 2015 Daisy A. Delfin
Transcribed by Ilyan Kei Lavanway from personal text provided by
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This written work is a true personal account of the author’s experiences. This work does not necessarily reflect the official position of any organization.
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Readers may also enjoy Daisy’s prequel,
Published as a birthday gift for Sister Daisy A. Delfin.
Daisy turned eighty years old on 3 November 2015. She is a shining example of a life well lived in the service of God and her fellow man.
This is an account of my few spiritual experiences which I planned to share. I am not a prolific writer, but I’ll do my best.
The narrative of my first experience was during World War Two, which broke out sometime on September 8, 1940 in Europe. America was not into it until the Japanese Air Force made a sneak aerial attack on Pearl Harbor, Honolulu. The Philippines, being allies of the United States of America, were invaded by the Japanese Imperial forces, Manila becoming an open city.
We evacuated two times, and the third place was in the mountainous part of Victorias, called Hacienda Caridad.
I love sunsets, and I have a favorite spot – a mound – to sit and contemplate their beauty and the changing colors. But, something else stirred within me whenever I saw one. My little heart seemed to burst and I felt like crying because I missed home. I thought of my parents, separated from me since I was about two years old. They gave me away for adoption. Hence, I took their pictures, tore them to pieces in my anger, and threw them down the hill. I was about eight or nine years old, three years into the war.
When I was mature enough to understand, home meant home with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in the premortal life. In other words, comparing Earth time to God’s time, I must have been eight or nine minutes away from him.
In one of my excursions to my favorite spot, I was in awe as I saw the clouds parted like a door. It was so strange to see a castle in the air! It had many spires, and on each spire, flaglets were waiving in varied colors, mostly in white and yellow, orange, rust colors, greenish to bluish, lavender and violet – possibly due to the changing colors of the setting sun.
The lawn of the castle was well manicured with green grasses. There was a fountain and several rows of sweet-smelling flowers, like perfume. There were cement benches, and on the sides were trees.
The vision closed when the two sides of the clouds, which had parted for me to view, came together again. Then, I woke up, or rather, I blinked in surprise, as if I couldn’t believe!
As a kid, I simply thought I was daydreaming, but I never forgot the details of what I had seen. I am seventy-nine years old now, and on November 3, 2015, I’ll turn eighty.
In my teenage years, I said to myself that it was just a figment of a lonely child’s rich imagination. I was a neophyte on matters spiritual. Hence, I never told anyone about it, fearing ridicule from my folks.
I joined the Sisters of Saint Paul de Chartres, left it in 1960-61, got a job, relinquished it to get married at twenty-eight years old, and I had a son, Tony, about five years old at that time.
Then something happened when I was about thirty-six years old. I was converted, baptized and confirmed in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on December 19, 1971.
In 1972, after my separation from my husband, Roberto Corteza Delfin (non-LDS), I went back to work as a staff nurse at Saint Joseph Hospital in Central Manapla, owned and operated by Victorias Milling Company, Inc. (VMC).
Me, my son Tony, and the entire Adeva family (with the exception of those who now have families of their own) – nine in all – were now renting the first floor of the Moreno residence on Miraflores Street.
One night, I had a dream in that house. This time, I was actually in the garden of the castle in the sky which I saw as a kid. I was dressed in white, like a loose cotton nightgown. I was sitting on one of the benches made of cement. From the periphery of my eyes, I saw a man, not so tall, and dressed [in white] like me, enter one of the side doors of the castle.
A bit later, he came out but I could not clearly make out his face because it was hazy. He did not come straight to me but walked a bit further among the trees.
I felt his presence but I did not turn around to gaze up at him. I waited. He gently kissed me on the right nape of my neck, and as I slowly awakened from this dream, I still could feel the warmth of his kiss, and my room was filled with sweet-smelling flowers. It pervaded my room until I was fully conscious and the perfume slowly dissipated.
As a new member of the Church, I was full of vitality, enthusiasm. I must have stepped on some pretty toes because I was raring for the members to go forward fast. They were moving like snails.
We had American fulltime missionaries who were not adept in our local dialect, Hiligaynon – not Ilonggo. Brother Judge Graciano Arinday, Jr. corrected us: “Ilonggo is a man [from Iloilo], Hiligaynon is the dialect.” Therefore, we had to speak in our broken English, Filipino style, pronunciation, accent, and whatever, the Spanish way.
One of these fulltime missionaries was an Italian-American by the name of Elder Sciamarella. When he left Victorias, he presented me with poster-size color photographs of temples worldwide in operation at the time of his presentation of the gift.
One of the pictures I saw was “my castle in the sky” of my childhood – the [+ Salt Lake Temple+].
While living in the Moreno residence, it was announced at Church about the conference which would be held at Cebu City, Cebu. Victorias was the first branch of the Church outside Bacolod City. We were under Manila Philippines Mission then, until Cebu Philippines Mission was opened in Central Visayas.
My sisters kept harping and pestering me about the conference, within my hearing, but I kept quiet and I could see their dismay and disappointment. I don’t make promises which I may not fulfill.
One night, as I was contemplating their desires, I was in bed wondering where to get the right amount of money for five persons to go. By 9:00 PM, Miraflores Street is always dark and quiet as usual.
From one corner of the ceiling to my right, facing me, I saw about a foot-long light, about two and a half inches in width, and as it lengthened, I saw an arrow shape growing from it. This struck my forehead, and a still, small voice whispered to me twice in assurance, “There is money coming! There is money coming!” Then I slept peacefully. I remembered the dream the next morning and put it out of my mind.
I worked the 3:00 PM to 11:00 PM shift at the Emergency Room of the hospital. As I passed by the Admitting Office after punching my timecard at the Bundy clock located near the Cafeteria and Business Office, our ambulance driver, Mr. Edelberto Aquino, handed me a note – a registered notice from the Manapla Post Office of which he is authorized on his trips there to get the hospital mail.
Not making any connection with my dream or vision the night before, I merely wondered who could be sending mail to me, since all my mail was addressed to Victorias. Strange, but I was curious, too.
The next day, I left for work much earlier and dropped by the Manapla Town Post Office. Upon opening the sealed envelope bearing the seal of BIR [Bureau of Internal Revenue], I found a check of over four-hundred pesos. They returned the amount because my salary deductions from the previous year were over deducted.
Then, I remembered the dream, and sure enough, we were able to go for conference at Cebu City, Cebu, except my parents. In fact, Sister Ninfa A. Villasis (now Mrs. Tangalin) was short of money and I lent her twenty pesos – free.
My very first dream when I was a very new member of the Church: In my dream, Jesus Christ visited Victorias. There was a makeshift stage of rough wood where now stands the skating rink, boxing, and movie screen at the plaza. That place was once one flat ground. A few were seated on grass or dusty ground, intently listening to Christ’s sermon. I did not see his face, for it, too, was hazy. Yet I recognized him through the clothing he wore, and gestures. Neither did I hear the messages he was talking about – just the movement of his lips. As I looked around, many people passed by on two other footpaths, either going to market or coming from the marketplace, ignoring Christ. Then, I woke up.
Talking about “tunnels” and “out of body experiences,” I had one in the Moreno house again. I refer to the book, by Ilyan Kei Lavanway. I had asked Brother Lavanway what the [+ Holy Ghost+] might look like, but our conversation was interrupted. You see, I have an inkling of how he might look.
In my dream, I saw my spirit sit up. I was in the form of a woman. My natural eyes told me it was not me, but my spiritual eyes said it was me. What was my general appearance? Cottony soft, as the white clouds in the skies. Without turning my head around, as if I had eyes at the back of my head, I saw my unmoving physical body lying on my bed.
Then my spiritual eyes were drawn to a tunnel way ahead, which got its light from a brighter light at the end of the tunnel. This tunnel was somewhat curved. The place looked clean – not a single piece of debris could be found.
In front of me, gone were the walls of the Moreno residence, gone was my dresser and big mirror. So, too, some bits of my womanly things on top of the drawer, but there was no more drawer, nor cabinet, either.
I contemplated whether I should get all the way up and enter the tunnel to see the bright light at the end of this tunnel, but instead, as if I was made to see only, my spirit laid itself back – returned to fit my physical body.
I slept like a log until morning came for another day of labor. See chapter nine, page twenty-seven, paragraph one, in the book, by Ilyan Kei Lavanway. The tunnel I spoke about can be referred to another book, Intelligent Universe, by the same author.
I’ve made two personal conclusions about this experience: One, there is no pain when the spirit leaves our physical body at death, even if, let’s say, the physical body is in agony at death’s door, in death throes. Two, the possibly looks like me, but only in the form of a man, [the Holy Ghost is recognizable as a male human being].
There was a young, good-looking man employed by Victorias Milling Company (VicMiCo). I cannot recall his name. I believe he worked with the transportation Department. His line of work involved the switches of the rail tracks, like when the train master had to stop and move backwards to hitch more railcars filled with the cut sugarcane, and when the train master can continue to move forward. At night, this man’s work included a lantern with which he signals the first rail car.
Possibly, that night they had all the rail cars hitched, and retained the empty ones. He probably dozed off. While in that state, so the story went, either he had a fatal cardiac arrest or was bitten by a poisonous snake. I did not listen to the stories, only bits and pieces.
We did everything to revive him (DOA), but all was in vain. At the Saint Paul School of Nursing where we received our training, our instructors emphasized to us as would-be professional Registered Nurses, to be impersonal with our patients, for we were dealing in life and death situations. We must not be emotionally involved but maintain professionalism.
Hence, when the body of this young man with a wife and children was readied to be transported to the morgue, I was shaken with unexplained emotion, possibly out of pity for his loved ones, having to die at a young age – whatever it was, I nearly burst into tears. To hide and stop the tears flowing and avoid making a fool of myself inside the E.R., I went to the Nurses’ Station of the E.R. where there is a cubicle with our personal bags on the table, and across that small space was a tall, metal cabinet, whose key is held by the night shift E.R. Nurse. I think there were four shelves containing medicines, oral, injectables, etc.
You see, if you are an E.R. nurse at Saint Joseph Hospital, you’re not only that, but you also function as a pharmacist (who goes off duty at 5:00 PM together with their minions), and a telephone operator, making quick decisions when or when not to call for help from your night shift head nurse or supervisor.
Sometimes, there may be twenty, thirty, or fifty military men going into the hospital to rest, sleeping along the steps, sitting in the hallways of the E.R. after an encounter with the rebel groups of the NPA [New People’s Army]. We had to take all their blood pressures ranging up to 150/100.
Going back to the cubicle to stifle my sobs, suddenly I smelt sweet perfumed flowers right in front of me. There are pine trees and mango trees round about, with some flower beds and margaritas or well-trimmed acacia trees, too. No kalachuchi trees, no rosals, no medianoches, azucenas, or any sweet-smelling flowers.
I brushed off my misty eyes, controlled myself and smiled my thanks to the spirit of the deceased young man who appreciated my sympathy, thus presenting me with a bouquet of sweet-smelling flowers which I couldn’t see. Then the sweet smell slowly dissipated. He’s gone. Silly, isn’t it?
I dreamed that I was riding a train with Bishop R. Villegas of Victorias Second Ward. My baggage was beside me, together with my umbrella. We did not speak. Then, the train stopped at the station, and before us was a house. Bishop Villegas brought my baggage in and left me alone where he rode back with the train. As we were waiting for our turn, I looked around and spied Sister Nida I. Antonilla, and her daughter, Merry Christ (now the wife of Brother Juan Furiscal, a returned missionary and second counselor to Victorias First Ward’s Bishop). We smiled shyly to each other, but did not come near or talk together. Then, I woke up.
I dreamed I was in my white night gown. I was inside a house. I chose the white bed with a mattress near a window with a white curtain being blown inward by a gentle breeze. To my dismay, I was asked to vacate the place and assigned to almost the same bed further back and against the wall without a window. Then, I woke up.
I dreamed I was walking barefooted up a hilly path. It was nighttime. To my left were dark, tall trees. I was exhausted and much too weak from walking, and I felt faint – without my destination in sight. Then, I spied a flatter ground to my right. The ground was bare. To my relief, a house or an inn came into view, but before I could reach it, I fell in a dead faint, but not unconscious. There was no one to call for help, which I badly needed. Then, all of a sudden, Elder Vatu (he is a Samoan and huge, his name is much longer and means king of the town) and Elder Pacunla came into view and saw me. They took a large, white sheet and possibly placed me in the middle in my semi-conscious state. Both took hold of two ends of the sheet and brought me inside a room where they placed me in a white bed, with white linens covering the mattress. Then, I passed out.
Maybe they gave me an anointing and a blessing, for the next scene showed me sitting on a long, wooden bench with a long table. Elder Vatu was surreptitiously watching me from a door in another room to see I ate all my porridge. I tried to eat then, without appetite. I don’t know where Elder Pacunla went – probably another part of the house. The house looked old and abandoned. Then, the back door opened and in came Brother Ronald Lee Sipe, Jr., the son of Bishop Ronald D. Sipe of Victorias First Ward. As I looked up at a torn part of the ceiling, I saw a light, which told me that morning had come.
The next day being Sunday, I felt I shouldn’t go to Church because I felt so tired, so worn out, so weak. I did go, despite the illness. I reached Church with the same feeling and mentioned the dream to Elders Vatu and Pacunla.
The second time we went near the bulletin board, I asked Elder Vatu if the Elders have the power to heal me from a distance. He answered, “It takes faith,” and thereafter watched me carefully during Sunday school.
I dreamed that a group of Relief Society sisters went with me inside a big mall. The restaurants were full of full-time missionaries. One of my companions pointed out to me the presence of Elders Lozada and Garlick who intentionally ignored us. Then, we met for the first time three other missionaries whose names I knew when I asked them who they were. Their names were recorded in Ward History, but now I really have forgotten them. One of them is a foreigner and huge, with a fierceness in his demeanor. Or was it that he was just being strict?
We did not eat, but instead inspected some shops. As I was not interested in them, we parted ways and went shopping.
Nanay, Betty Ann, and Vicky with Rose moved on. This time, Rose was sporting a metal-like eye patch with small holes all over it. I said to myself, she has cancer of the eyes.
Then, the scene shifted and we found ourselves in a very long, newly cemented highway. It was very clean, and the grass on both sides of the road was well-trimmed. It was not inhabited, and the land had no houses except a small school building gaily painted, with a flag (no particular country) waving in the air. At a great distance were buildings and houses – a community. They were twinkling with the light of the sun as if they were made of silver.
All of a sudden, my deceased aunt, who had been my guardian, was standing about a meter away from us, smiling. I turned to members of my family [to make them aware] of her presence, pointing my fingers to show them where to look.
As I turned back, she was melting like wax before my eyes, with droppings of this wax-like substance on the road. I came near to exactly where she was standing and pointed my finger at the spot. She became whole again, and I touched her arm, but then I woke up.
My aunt guardian, Miss Maria Javellana Servando, had been a school teacher in Grade Two, Section One, right after her graduation in Grade Six during the Philippines-American Commonwealth, until she retired.
This one was not a dream. I was standing at the back of Victorias Chapel around 4:00 PM. The sun was glaringly hot, and as I looked up at the sky toward the west, I witnessed something very rare and extraordinary. There was an uneven ball of clouds, and in the middle, rainbow colors coming from the core of the cloud were spreading outward for some length of time. I called Brother Alan B. Zulueta’s attention to this extraordinary phenomenon, which I had never witnessed in my lifetime. He, too, was awed by it and was silent for a time, as if pondering about it.
This last experience was a nightmare, sometime in 2014. I dreamed that I woke up in my room. It was pitch black. I couldn’t discern the windows, the walls, my bed, or the door. But this was not what struck fear, enveloping my whole being. I had goose bumps or goose flesh, or whatever you call it. I cried out for help in my distress, for someone to open the door for me. There was no answer, just complete silence. Then, I remembered almost kneeling, saying, “Help me, Lord!” over and over again. I felt an evil presence in the room, but to escape him I had to find the door, which finally opened. As I left the room, I couldn’t find the walls of the long hall, nor the staircase to escape my stalker. I couldn’t see him, and I didn’t turn around, but I could feel his presence and his footsteps. My own feet felt like stones, and as I fled, the running was slower.
At the end of the long hall was a light, or something that appeared like one. I strained my eyes at the unmoving apparition surrounded by blackness, but nearest to him was a light surrounding him. Then, I stumbled and started to fall, but my stalker seemed to tell me he wanted to help me get up. But, before he could lay his hands on me, I righted myself and knew in an instant that Jesus Christ was waiting, for he did lift a hand, just watched me come nearer. Then, I woke up and prayed. I was still trembling with fear in my white night gown from my dream.
Of all my experiences, what I missed most was the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit. I missed his still, small voice as if he had abandoned me. Do you think he was merely helping me because I was a neophyte LDS?
I left the novitiate of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Paul de Chartres sometime between 1960 and 1961 after one year and a half in the nunnery or convent at Quezon City, behind St. Paul College of Quezon City. That was over fifty-four or fifty-five years after World War Two. The following are two dreams I had at that time:
In the first, I dreamed I was watching an aerial combat between a group of black and silver airplanes, vintage World War Two, up in the sky. Both groups of combatants were without insignia of any specific country.
Examples were the black aircraft of Japan with their Rising Sun insignia, and the Unites States of America aircraft with their lone star insignia. For the latter, on both sides of the star were painted red, white, and blue bars.
I sensed that the silver planes were winning this aerial combat, but before I knew who actually won, the scenery immediately changed.
In the second dream, I found myself standing near a deep chasm. Across this wide gulf, I saw my former Mother Mistress (she’s Irish) standing there. Behind her were hundreds of leafless trees standing on an equally barren land devoid of any form of vegetation. She was looking at me across the gulf that separated us, just as I was eying her the same way. There was no bridge of any kind to cross over. I did not turn around to see if there were trees of vegetation growing behind me.
Then, my dream abruptly closed and I woke up. Although I remembered the details of my dreams all these years, I cannot remember and am not sure of the place where these dreams took place. I placed it probably at Singalong, Manila – a branch of the Sisters of St. Paul de Chartres, where they operate a clinic, pharmacy, and distribute every Thursday cornmeal, possibly from Unicef. Their services were subsidized by Catholic charities and the Philippine Charity Sweepstakes, Or, the dreams could have occurred at Singian Clinic, near Malacañang Palace, where I was admitted for my right eardrum trouble and was later accepted as one of their staff nurses for nine months, and before leaving for Negros Occidental.
Below is my account of the premonitions in two of my dreams many years ago. They were not included with my Victorias First Ward History, because I thought they did not directly concern me. And who will believe me?
In my dream, I saw a man’s hand holding a photograph which he thrust in front of my face and said, “This is my house.” The man’s voice was that of Victorias Third Branch President, Roel Magallanes Casiano, a returned missionary.
The two-story house was painted white with portions like a black ribbon painted from its eaves to the windows and doors upstairs and downstairs. It’s something like this if drawn:
Then, I found myself standing outside a bamboo fence, facing the house shown to me in the photograph. To my left was an American couple talking earnestly to me, but it seemed I did not hear them as my mind was concentrated on the house before me. I don’t know where the couple went, but I found myself alone inside the first floor of the house.
The first floor was devoid of furniture, except for the hammock-like, boat-shaped thing, possibly made from an old automobile part made of chrome which had lost its luster, hence the color looked bronze or maroon. In it lay a very sick, almost dying man. I thought at a glance that it must be Elder Wilcken. Then I woke up. I wrote down this dream and gave it to Elder Wilcken the next Sunday.
I forgot the date of the dream, but weeks or months later, we were jolted out of our senses when Branch President Roel Magallanes Casiano suddenly had a fatal cardiac arrest as he slept beside his wife in the Tayson house. I even forgot the date of his death, but he was buried in the Victorias Veterans Cemetery.
Brother Roel’s wife, Sister Rozel Faj Tayson-Casiano, also a returned missionary, was probably around twenty-seven years old and seven months pregnant with their first child at the time of his death.
She told me some days or weeks after his burial that she received a call from an American company seeking him about his acceptance to work in America. When told that Brother Roel had died, they were shocked and told her he had been in their office in the USA to follow up his application.
Brother Roel M. Casiano was a hard-working man in his branch, a singer (tenor), and a great cook, who loved the members in his care. He was seventh place in the Philippines National Board Exams for Nurses. He put his teachers at Riverside Medical Center College of Nursing into a flurry by his hard questions. He was always in the school’s library doing research work in nursing, of his own accord.
Years later, I must humbly admit that the dying young man I saw in the white and black house was not Elder Wilcken at all, but Brother Roel himself who showed me the house in a photograph, and whose voice said to me, “This is my house!”
I dreamed I was inside a small, white building, standing near the opened grilled door. The walls were white. The only person inside besides me was a fiftyish or more American woman dressed in a violet, gold, green, and blue, satin gown. We did not exchange words – just the two of us and nothing else inside what one might call a house.
I peeped out of the opened grilled door and saw a procession. First came a white hearse with sitting beside the driver. President Hinckley was all in white. He was smiling and waving to some unseen crowd supposedly lining the street. Behind the hearse, the [+ Quorum of the Twelve Apostles+], also in white, was following the hearse on foot. Their faces were solemn.
When the hearse stopped in front of this small building, President Hinckley alighted while the apostles stood outside. President Hinckley then stepped inside and I stepped back a few paces. The woman I described followed him down the stairs with railings winding downward. I came near the railings and looked down where they went, but only darkness met my eyes and I could see them no more, because there was no evidence of any light down there.
Then, I woke up.
The strange part of my dream was the woman in her attire. Why was she not in white like me? Did the colors symbolize something, like organizations, countries, continents? I am in total darkness.
I know that in the dream, I am just a mere onlooker or spectator of this great event. Yet, why me?
President Gordon B. Hinckley died months after the above dream. I also believe that the small, white building in my dream was a mausoleum!
I remembered President Hinckley’s [+ speeches+]. He uses short sentences, not longwinded and complicated ones.
A recent dream I experienced in the early morning hours of October 7, 2015. I could not make head or tails of it:
I dreamed I was in a larger version of our Sacrament Hall in Victorias City. The hall was full of worshippers, some standing. In my dream, I was lying behind the sacrament table, either on a wooden couch made strong by rattans or a wooden bench. I was sick and resting.
Along came Sister Melanie C. Pasco holding a box, followed by Sister Juliet H. Betita. The contents of the box were opened before me and out came various sizes of used shoes, mostly beige color, dirty white, and a newer sandal in black and white charol placed across in two stripes with a black belt behind the ankle to keep it in place. This one I liked, and it fit me – with Sister Melanie holding me up on both feet.
But, alas, all the shoes were meant for the right foot only! All of them were missing their pair for the left foot.
Then, I woke up. Truly, a very strange dream.
October 28, 2015, early morning hours, I dreamed my deceased aunt and guardian, Miss Maria Javellana Servando, together with my deceased father, Brother Sergio Servando Adeva, appeared to me in a dream. I was surprised and exclaimed to them, “Why are you here? Where have you been?”
One of them answered by answering the second question: “We have been visiting with your mother.”
They did not answer the first question.
Then, I woke up.
By the way, my mother’s name is Sister Demetria Escotivo Jaranilla Adeva. She died June 9, 2014, thirteen days short of her ninety-seventh birthday.
My aunt guardian and my father were first cousins. My father was the first branch president of Victorias with Elder Goodrich and Elder Gamble as his first and second counselors. Both were fulltime missionaries.
Why did they not answer my first question? Were they on a mission to fetch me? I’m turning eighty years old November 3, 2015, and I am not too good, health wise.
If my aunt guardian together with my father visited me in a dream, where was my mother in the spirit world when they visited her? Spirit prison?
My aunt guardian died single and a devout Roman Catholic. She prayed endless novenas and rosaries, attended daily Mass before going to school to teach Grade Two pupils. She was cruel in the Spanish kind of way. I suffered much from corporal punishment from eleven or twelve years old until I reached third year high school. Yet she sent me to school and took over when my grandmother, Miss Socorro Ascalon Servando died when I was in Grade Five.
She, my father, and I were her adopted children – my aunt guardian an orphan, my father orphaned from a Protestant father, Sulficio Adeva, who worked as Victorias Town Treasurer during the administration of Mayor Policarpio Villanueva Ascalan before World War Two. He died when a bolt of lightning struck him in the old municipal building as he went back to his office to get something he forgot at the height of a thunderstorm. He opened the window of his office and the lightning struck him. A nearby tree was also struck.
If my aunt guardian had been a , she would have been a perfect LDS – no vices, industrious, a product of the Philippine-American commonwealth. She had a unique penmanship which I never saw anyone imitate. Honest, truthful, conservative to the point of British stiffness. Prayed on her knees from the door of the church to the front of the railing facing the altar. Always kissing the cross with Jesus nailed to it, and that included the Virgin Mary and her favorite canonized saints.
These are all what I can recall. I never knew that in dreams and visions, the disappearance of windows, walls, etc., as in my testimony and conversion story can be important, although there were little details I forgot, jotted them down and included them in the narrative when I was Victorias First Ward Historian, beginning from the administration of former Bishop Lloyd Solis Bancairen. So, of my “out of body experience” and here for the first time, I mentioned the disappearance of walls, dresser, cabinets, and other items in my room.
There is something of importance to me upon reading the short book, , by Ilyan Kei Lavanway.
Years ago, in our Sunday school class, we were discussing the deluge in Noah’s time, and the covenant God made through him that whenever we see a rainbow in the sky, it is a sure sign that God will not send a deluge (flood) to the world – and he has kept his promise.
Yet, when did you last see a rainbow after a rainy day? The last time I saw one was in 2014 at Sister Nena G. Mentor’s house at Osmeña Avenue.
24 November 2014
To Sister Daisy A. Delfin
Victorias First Ward, Cadiz Philippines Stake
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Osmeña Avenue, Victorias City 6119
Negros Occidental, Philippines
Dear Sister Delfin,
I have enjoyed reading and publishing your conversion story and your extraordinary spiritual experiences. I know you had a few questions about the possible meanings of some of your experiences.
I have no authority to interpret dreams or visions. I can only offer a few personal thoughts. The [+ Patriarch+] may have more accurate insights, and may have permission from the Lord to help interpret dreams and visions, according to the Lord’s will.
The best place to start when seeking understanding regarding dreams and visions is the scriptures. That includes your own . Your patriarchal blessing is personal scripture intended specifically for you.
While searching the , seek the Lord’s guidance through prayer. He knows all the answers, but often he wants us to search and wait on him. Many times, the meanings only become clear as we continue faithfully along our eternal journey. But, I am sure you already know that.
Here are a few of my own thoughts:
Your account of descending the stairs into darkness, followed by the American woman dressed in multicolored attire most struck my attention. Often, the scriptures portray the Church as a woman, symbolized as the bride, with Christ being the bridegroom. The multicolored attire worn by the woman you saw may represent the citizens of the many nations that have not yet opened their borders to the preaching of the gospel.
The fact that you and the woman were the only ones present until the arrival of President Hinckley might suggest that you, your missionary efforts – both in mortal life and in the spirit world – and your righteous example, were significant influences in bringing that woman – the peoples she represents – to a place where they might attain further light and knowledge by following the prophet.
The fact that the woman was American might represent the United States of America as being the nation established by God for the purpose of allowing the restored Church and the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ to take root on Earth in the [+ last dispensation+] and spread forth to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people.
The small, white building with the staircase inside could very well be a temple or a mausoleum. A small temple might symbolize the relatively small number of laborers in the Lord’s vineyard, and the only means by which the ordinances of the gospel can be carried to the dead. A mausoleum would be symbolic of death. Perhaps the small, white building had just such a dual meaning.
The staircase descending into darkness may represent access to spirit prison from paradise, and the path by which the spirits in prison that accept the vicarious ordinances done for them in the temples can ascend out of darkness into paradise. President Hinckley descending those stairs into the darkness may represent the prophet bringing the Church (the woman following him down the stairs) to the spirits in spirit prison who died as citizens of the nations that had not yet permitted the preaching of the gospel within their borders.
I think the fact that you were dressed in white, and the fact that you were present in the scene, suggest you were much more than a mere spectator. You are “The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to walk in” as spoken of in .
Your missionary efforts in mortality and your future missionary efforts in the spirit world are – and will be – instrumental in facilitating the continuation of the great event you witnessed. You stand shoulder to shoulder with prophets and apostles in the great work of salvation.
Remember, in the temples, Sisters are stationed inside the Celestial room to welcome all who enter. That is no small assignment. It is an exalting assignment, indicative of the holiness and power and trust given to the righteous daughters of Eve.
Your account of the larger version of the Victorias sacrament hall filled with people may, in part, represent the growing membership of the ward, and the fact that soon, the building will literally be expanded to accommodate more worshippers.
The fact that you were resting behind the sacrament table may represent the fact that you rest on the of your Savior, and you rely on his to renew your spirit in these times of tribulation and so many ills.
Perhaps the used shoes represent the lives of so many people, worn out through the trials of mortality. The fact that they were all shoes for the right foot might indicate that the people who walked in those shoes chose the right path, and stand on the [+ right hand+] of the Savior.
The fact that all the shoes were for the right foot might also represent that only the gospel and its covenants can protect us as we walk through our eternal journey. The implication that the left foot remains unprotected might refer to others – those who walk in the ways of the world, not being clothed with the gospel.
The fact that you found a newer sandal that you liked and that fit you may represent the fact that when you found the restored gospel, you liked it and it fit you. Truth is as clear as black and white.
Sister Melanie C. Pasco holding you up on both feet might represent that you are loved and sustained by your sisters in Christ, and you have walked with them, having your feet in the [+ gospel of the Lamb+], secured – sealed – by temple ordinances and personal righteousness, so that the gospel and its eternal blessings cannot be removed from you.
“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings; that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good; that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth.” (See and )
Regarding what the might look like: You are correct that the Holy Ghost is a personage of spirit, and is male. If we could see him, we would see that he is a man, a male human spirit.
“The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man’s; the Son also; but the Holy Ghost has not a body of flesh and bones, but is a personage of spirit. Were it not so, the Holy Ghost could not dwell in us.” (See [+ Doctrine and Covenants 130:22+])
Regarding the nature of our spirits in general: Your spirit actually looks like you in your perfect form, like you would look in the prime of your youth, whole and complete, without any visible flaws. I believe each person’s spirit looks like that person in their perfect form, in the prime of youth, and that is what we will look like when we are resurrected.
“The spirit and the body shall be reunited again in its perfect form; both limb and joint shall be restored to its perfect frame … Now this restoration shall come to all, both old and young, both bond and free, both male and female, both the wicked and the righteous; and even there shall not so much as a hair of their heads be lost; but every thing shall be restored to its perfect frame …” (See )
I believe the more Christlike we become before our resurrection, the more we will have the beauty of the image of his countenance reflected in our physical appearance when we are resurrected. In other words, I think physical beauty among resurrected persons is based less on mortal genetics and more on personal righteousness, on Christlike attributes acquired through faith, hope, and charity. The most righteous will be the most attractive to look at and the most pleasant to be acquainted with.
Regarding the feeling of missing the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost: Don’t despair. Elder Bednar explains:
“As we gain experience with the Holy Ghost, we learn that the intensity with which we feel the Spirit’s influence is not always the same. Strong, dramatic spiritual impressions do not come to us frequently. Even as we strive to be faithful and obedient, there simply are times when the direction, assurance, and peace of the Spirit are not readily recognizable in our lives. In fact, the Book of Mormon describes faithful Lamanites who ‘were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not’ ().
“The influence of the Holy Ghost is described in the scriptures as ‘a still small voice’ (; see also ) and a ‘voice of perfect mildness’ (). Thus, the Spirit of the Lord usually communicates with us in ways that are quiet, delicate, and subtle. …
“In our day the Book of Mormon is the primary source to which we should turn for help in learning how to invite the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost.”
“That We May Always Have His Spirit to Be with Us”, General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, April 2006. Web. 20 Jul. 2015. <>
Regarding your dream about the aerial combat: I imagine it is symbolic of the ongoing battle between good and evil that began in premortal life in Heaven (symbolized by the sky in which the aerial battle was taking place) and continues on Earth among both the living and the dead (symbolized by the old airplanes operated by mortal men). I suppose the silver airplanes represented the cause of freedom and righteousness, and the black aircraft represented the evil hosts of the adversary.
The lack of insignia on the airplanes may represent the fact that the battle between good and evil knows no boundary. It is not limited to any particular nation, nor is it limited to the hosts of the living or to the hosts of the dead. All are battling for Christ or for Satan, whether we are in the flesh or in the spirit world.
As the scene of your dream changed and you found yourself at the edge of a great chasm, I suppose that might represent something similar to what Lehi saw in his dream.
In your dream, the chasm may represent the gulf that separates the wicked from the righteous, or it may represent the separation between those who have embraced the gospel and those who have not yet embraced it. It may represent the divide between spirit prison and paradise within the spirit world.
If it is a reference to the spirit world, the spirits of people of other faiths, those who are without the fulness of the restored gospel, are in a spiritually barren and desolate state, a spirit prison. They cannot cross the gulf to enjoy the company of the Saints until someone does their temple work for them, providing a bridge for them to cross the gulf to join the Saints – to join you – in paradise.
Regarding the unanswered question as to why your deceased aunt guardian, Miss Maria Javellana Servando, and your deceased father, Brother Sergio Servando Adeva, appeared to you in a dream: I don’t know, but their answer to the second question you asked them may give you a clue to the answer for the first question.
They told you they had been visiting your mother, Sister Demetria Escotivo Jaranilla Adeva, who died June 9, 2014 (a little over a year ago). They did not say why they were visiting you, but the fact that they told you they had been visiting your mother may suggest she is ready to accept her temple work, and she wants you to do it. That is probably why they appeared to you – to lead you to remember your mother in time for you to do her [+ temple work+].
The Church’s policy is to wait one year from the date of death before doing temple work for a deceased relative. I think it is no mere coincidence that you had this particular visitation a little over a year after the death of your mother.
Assuming your mother died without being baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and assuming she has not yet had [+ temple ordinances+] performed for her, or has not yet accepted them, she must be waiting in .
My wife has had many dreams about her own deceased relatives, and as soon as she does their temple work, they stop appearing to her in dreams.
Regarding when was the last time I saw a rainbow: I don’t remember, but I think I have seen one sometime this year (2015). I definitely saw one during 2014, when we were visiting Compuestohan with my wife’s sister who now lives in Bacolod City.
do represent the Lord’s promise to that he would never again destroy the inhabitants of Earth by global flood. The global flood was Earth’s baptism by immersion in water. It only needed to happen once.
I believe all planets inhabited by Heavenly Father’s children must experience a global flood – a baptism by immersion – in the process of filling the measure of their creation, which is to become exalted worlds to be inherited by the meek among their inhabitants.
I think there is a [+ prophecy+] that says that in the year of the Lord’s Second Coming, there will be no rainbow seen anywhere on the earth. I can’t remember where that prophecy is written or exactly how it is worded, but it seems to imply that there will be a severe global drought in the year of Christ’s return.
Drought and accompanying famine have often been consequences of wickedness. Global wickedness preceding the Second Coming of Christ will be worse than it has ever been in the history of the earth up to that time (I believe the wickedness during the final battle after the millennial reign of Christ will surpass the wickedness preceding his Second Coming).
Drought turns an environment into a tinderbox. A global drought would make the earth primed for rapid, violent burning.
There are many prophecies yet to be fulfilled before the [+ Second Coming+]. While no one can put a date on the Lord’s return, we can watch the signs as that day draws near. It is my personal opinion (not doctrine) that we are about fifty to seventy years from the Second Coming. But, I may be completely wrong in my thinking. It might be much sooner. It might be a little bit later. Whenever it is, it will take the wicked by complete surprise, and it will be a joyful and long awaited day of rescue for the faithful.
Your brother in Christ,
Ilyan Kei Lavanway
Join Sister Daisy A. Delfin on a spiritual journey of awakening as she recounts a few of her unique personal experiences in her own words. Daisy recalls significant spiritual events in her life, extending from her childhood into her golden years. Exercising great faith and courage, Daisy invites readers of all ages and beliefs to view life with a renewed eternal perspective, adding a little more to that which they may already know.