
by Bermie Dizon
There are valleys so deep, so dark, that even my words cannot describe them.
For Marites Tipon Santillan, one such valley began in January 2019 when pain tore through her chest from a dissected aorta.
Her doctors advised immediate surgery, but fear gripped her. “I was so scared,” she later admitted. The trauma of past caesarean operations haunted her. She wasn’t ready.
The doctors warned it was genetic. And yet, she chose to go home to Baguio, hoping that medication would be enough.
But fear and hope do not always walk in the same direction.
Three years passed. Life moved on. She buried her fear under busy workdays—leading over a hundred salespeople, serving in real estate associations, and preparing for a government housing summit.
Until October 17, 2022, when pain returned with a vengeance.
This time, the scans showed her aneurysm was about to burst. Again, she declined surgery. But God had other plans.
In His mercy, God had already prepared her son Giancarlo’s successful heart surgery just a week before.
From his own hospital bed, Giancarlo called his mother and begged her, “Mama, don’t be afraid. The same team that healed me can heal you too.”
Something broke through. Her mother’s heart softened.
That night, an ambulance raced from Baguio to the Philippine Heart Center. Marites lay in silence, pain pulsing through her body. Her heart was failing, but God’s heartbeat for her never did.
The surgery lasted ten grueling hours. Her aorta, the doctors said, was like “wet toilet paper,” ready to explode at any second.
It was a miracle she survived. But when she awoke, she could not speak.
Intubated for 29 days, paralyzed from the waist down, and suffering from severe bedsores, she could only communicate by slowly pointing at letters on a folder her husband, Tony, prepared. One of the first words she spelled out was L-O-V-E.
“I was voiceless,” she shared, “but while bedridden, I was silently praying, communing and talking to God, thankful for the miracle that I survived.”
She added, “God is real, even during the darkest and most painful times.”
Although she got her voice back, her body was weak. Yet, the Spirit is strong within her. This is what I noticed when my wife and I visited her in Baguio City a few months ago. Her smile is beautiful. Her eyes were beaming.
Her husband read scripture beside her. They also played worship music using YouTube.
In Marites’ own words: “I realize now, I don’t need to look for Father God somewhere else—He is right here inside me in this journey.”
Her healing wasn’t instant. She is still bedridden. She still faces some daily pain, financial struggles, and physical limitations. And yet, she radiates hope. Not because life got easier, but because God got closer.
Marites now sees her paralysis not as punishment but as a platform.
“I may not be able to walk yet,” she says, “but I can still inspire others to stay strong in suffering. My purpose now is to enjoy my loving relationship with my Father God, and share it with others.”
She reflects: “The greatest lesson I’ve learned is that God is omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent. He never left me. He held me in the hollow of His loving and mighty hand.”
Indeed, the heartbeat of the Trinity—Father, Son, and Spirit—resounds in her life.
Suffering may silence our lips, but it cannot silence God’s presence. Even in the darkest nights of the soul, the Triune God holds us, speaks to us, and lives in us.
Like Marites, may we open our hearts and find that the God we are seeking has already made His home within us.
Bermie Dizon is a retired pastor of Grace Communion International (GCI), Glendora, California, and a former writer for USA Tribune for nine years. He is also the author of the book “God, In Every Step,” which is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other outlets.
+ There are no comments
Add yours