During my early adulthood, I joined the POSH Ministry of one of the largest Catholic organizations in Manila. POSH stands for Pray-Over, Shepherding, and Healing Ministry. It was a division of the Intercessory Ministry, where we laid hands on people, prayed for them, and gave counsel. Essentially, we were the prayer warriors.
Being part of that ministry made me grateful to witness miracles that I never would have if I were just an ordinary churchgoer. As part of our initiation rites and as true disciples of Christ, we were taught to speak in tongues.
To recap the event in the Bible: during Pentecost, the disciples were afraid to spread Jesus’ teachings. Then the Holy Spirit inspired them, and they began to speak in tongues—languages they themselves did not know. This is a spiritual gift from the Holy Spirit that enables believers to praise God, build themselves up spiritually, and step into God’s mission.
So there I was, one of the people in the room, very afraid that I might not be able to speak in tongues. At the time, my job was to solve production issues in our system, and my logical mind couldn’t comprehend how I could speak in languages I wasn’t familiar with. I wasn’t even very confident in speaking fluent English back then, and now I was expected to speak other languages too. I was terrified. What if I couldn’t fake it, and they found out that I wasn’t a true disciple of Christ? It would be so shameful.
Inspirational messages were spoken, followed by praise songs in English. Then we were taught to let go and allow the Holy Spirit to take over. As the singing continued, some people began speaking in other languages. Then more and more people started speaking in different languages as well. The entire room was filled with languages no one could comprehend—Mandarin, Hebrew, Latin, and others. I was so amazed to witness this, yet at the same time, I felt ashamed that I couldn’t do it.
Then, someone noticed me and walked over. She told me to relax and just let go. I told her I couldn’t. She reassured me that I just needed to open my mouth and let my voice hum a song. So, I did. To my amazement, I began speaking in a language that my mind could not understand. I wanted to stop. I wanted to close my mouth. However, I couldn’t control my jaw, my vocal cords, my throat, my larynx, my mouth, or my diaphragm. It felt like my soul was communicating with God, and the message was encrypted in such a way that even my conscious mind wasn’t allowed to comprehend it.
It lasted, I think, for about 30 minutes—30 minutes when I was completely out of control. For 30 minutes, the Holy Spirit possessed me. That was my first experience of a firsthand miracle.
Few more activities..
Another memorable experience was during a healing session through the laying on of hands. A person would be healed when someone laid a hand on their forehead. In one event, someone would place their hand on your forehead, and you would fall to the ground—slain by the Holy Spirit.
I lined up to receive this healing, but I was nervous. There were many people there, and I wondered, What if I don’t fall? I never practiced pretending to fall. When it was finally my turn, our leader laid her hand on my forehead, and I noticed a different kind of vibration from her touch. I didn’t need to fake anything—because the moment her fingertips touched my forehead, I couldn’t help but fall to the ground. The energy was so overwhelming that I was filled with deep gratitude and began to cry.
There were many more miracles I witnessed during my POSH days. My logical mind couldn’t comprehend them then, and even now, I still can’t fully explain them. So yes, I truly believe there is a higher power.
Since change is the only constant in life, I eventually had to bid farewell to my POSH family. I, too, had laid hands on people, but over time, the practice became energetically draining. Balancing a corporate job during the weekdays and dealing with issues that required a logical mindset made it difficult to sustain my spiritual work.
Though my beliefs have evolved since then, being part of POSH remains one of the most cherished memories of my life as a Catholic layperson.
Remote Viewing….
When I took a course on Medical Reiki, there was an activity called “Remote Viewing.” It is said to be a psychic ability—where, in a meditative state, your mind becomes a window, allowing you to see what’s happening to a person or in a certain place at that very moment. It’s like watching through a CCTV—except the CCTV device is your own mind.
I was paired with a classmate whose name I can no longer remember. Our teacher asked us to describe each other’s homes. We entered meditation, and through the stillness of the mind, we began to see. I could not believe what unfolded before me—I saw her house as if I were standing right there. Afterward, we shared what we saw, and she confirmed it all. We were strangers, yet somehow, we had connected beyond the boundaries of sight and distance.
I was both fascinated and humbled by this experience. Still, I realized how dangerous this ability could be for my mental health. It could take my “research” or, let’s be honest, my stalking skills to an entirely new level. Thankfully, by then, I had learned that genuine connection grows through shared time and experiences, not through peeking into another’s private world. In the past, my relationships suffered because I was too good at uncovering things. My detective skills were so sharp that someone could know only my name, and yet I already knew their whole family. It was unfair, really. Relationships should be equal exchanges—if you know one thing about me, I should only know one thing about you. Balance keeps us sane. So, I I swear I never practiced this technique again.
What I want to share is this: we are all more than our five senses. The world has made us believe we are limited—that we can only touch, hear, see, smell, and taste. But we are so much more. I was never fond of sci-fi movies; I’d rather lose myself in a medical drama or a heartfelt K-drama. Yet, after experiencing these things myself, I began to question science—and the stories the world has told us about what’s possible. Society has conditioned us, using fear and even religion, to dismiss the unseen. Anyone who dares to believe in something beyond the ordinary is often called “crazy.”
But what I experienced does not make me better or more special than anyone else. I am simply a soul courageous enough to explore what others call taboo or unconventional. With openness and practice, the so-called psychic powers we see in movies can be awakened—they are not reserved for a chosen few.
By the way, healing through the laying of hands in Catholicism is what others know as Reiki. I am also a Reiki practitioner, if that’s worth mentioning.
We are all beautifully unique in our own ways, and no one has the right to judge another soul. Some are empaths, deeply attuned to the emotions of others, absorbing them like gentle sponges. Because of that, they can easily become overwhelmed or even depressed. Yet, the world labels them “difficult,” not realizing their sensitivity is a gift. Others are connectors—through their energy, they draw like-minded souls together. Some have the ability to shift the energy of an entire room: when they are sad, the space feels heavy; when they are joyful, the air itself seems to glow.
Some gifts are born within us; others are refined through time and courage. In truth, we are all both extraordinary and ordinary—divine sparks wrapped in human form.
–G.A.