Lord, I pray for my book, that it may find favour with all Your children, the non-believers and the Christians alike. Lord, that I may not miss a single opportunity to make Your work shine. Lord, that every soul whose eyes touch my book, may reap greatly of Your blessing through it. Touch my reader, oh God, and let Your words refresh minds and hearts. Amen. |
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I get wiser each day. And what’s the point of living if you don’t? What really gets me about life though is no matter how wise you become you will never have all the answers to all the questions. You can have most, though. Most is better than more or lots or little… But it’s so human it makes me sick. These categories, measurable categories, the concept of time, space, big, small, choice between A and B – never between minus infinity and plus infinity, cause hey! Humans don’t function like that. We drown when granted true freedom. Lack of limits to us is like spilling the milk on the floor – we’d rather have a jug, thank you very much. Nice and enclosed.
Sometimes, when I pray, God really speaks… speaks so much… speaks faster than my own thoughts – now there’s something new! I crave anyone tell me what in the universe is capable of racing faster than your thoughts! But moments like that I really feel like there is not a single question I cannot answer. Because behold, the Lord is talking. I can plagiarise what I hear Him say and give you your answers, yes, all of them, to any questions. I feel unlimited, but not drowned. I feel free, wise, good, loving – all that you think God is and I partake of, through prayer. Other times though… I feel like I just talk to emptiness. No, I have no doubt God hears. But He wouldn’t come. So I just recycle my questions in my head over and over… and response? Silence. More recycling. Maybe it’s the wrong questions, I ask myself? Maybe it’s only certain “reverend” questions that God agrees to answer? But then I remember how easily God deals with me when He wants to answer, and I realise – ain’t nothing that God won’t agree to answer, cause everything that exists God cares about. Little and big – to Him there is not difference, He is no human, He is not limited in these wretched concepts we have to make our lives easier. Yet my prayer feels like it’s between me and me. I feel like I just fill in the blanks myself. I used to get desperate at moments like this. Angry with God, yes. How useless is that? Your anger can do so little to God, your anger can’t even offend Him! Your blasphemy cannot offend Him. Your curses cannot offend Him. Your disbelief cannot offend Him. He is so monumental it’s ridiculous. Yet, you come to God on His terms, you tell Him “I love You, Lord, though I really don’t understand what the heck is my life anyways”… And technically you know, not even your love can do anything to eternal God. Your praise, your blessings, your sacrifice and your prayers – what are they to the Creator of Heaven and Earth? Yet somehow – you just feel it, and you feel so subtly – God smiles on you. Not as in, miraculously transforms your life into the big fat celebration of joyey joy and happy happiness, pours some golden coins from Above and sends Jesus to kiss you on the forehead, no… He just smiles to you, like He actually noticed you. You cannot see it… you only know it because inexplicably you start smiling without even realising it – and hey, a second ago you were in a powerless mess, so you know it is not YOUR smile, not of you, not from you, maybe even against your will entirely… You just want to smile, cause you know God smiles. Ultimately, how we feel in our communication with God can only be summarised by one word – powerless. Unconditionally, infinitely powerless. Yeah, sounds very unattractive – human beings, though limited in every single direction and in every single way (we don’t even have wings to fly! Laughing stock for the lowest angels!), we still like to feel like we matter a bunch. Let me tell you though, those people that like to matter something, won’t matter it. And those that realise their powerlessness end up carrying themselves like the rulers of the earth, minus the arrogance. You know why? Well, think about it. If you come to the presence of God – the presence you fight for, long for, strive for, pray for, break for, crash for, dash for, cry for, scream for….and get there… and feel infinitely powerless… How will you look at the rest of the world, which is nowhere near even as much as starting to come close to God? That’s right – they are infinitely powerless, but compared to you. And it doesn’t make you want to pride above, cause hey! You’re powerless as well, or have you forgotten that already? Ain’t nothing to brag about! You can’t help but want them to find God. Touch the sky with you. They refuse. Not cause they’re not curious, but because they anticipate tomorrow’s bitterness through today’s scepticism. You don’t enjoy their powerlessness, no you never! You know why? Cause you’ve been there, Christina… Whoops! Why am I suddenly referring to myself in second person? As if I observe myself. Guess it makes the two of us – God also observes me. Not that He should bother, but for some reason He really doesn’t want to miss an opportunity to smile to me again… Just one smile of the Lord is worth all the abuses from the world… I’ll turn it into a song, I guess. I got saved as a youngster – in my mid-teens – back in my home country of Russia. It happened when I suddenly realised I was not God. You know the theme that people play in their minds that they’re believing in themselves? That was the concept I was severely disappointed in. Not that I felt I was bad, I just wasn’t God.
God has a sense of humour, but I was a toxic mocker. God answers prayers, but I only answered rhetoric questions. God is wise, but I was refusing to learn any more than my teenage self already knew. At the end of the day, I just had to admit it – I needed the real God. And mighty Self did not qualify. I left Russia to study at university in England, and London became my abusive love. The one that shuts all the doors in your face, and you still love it. The one you hate with all you have, and still love it at the same time. The one that tells you it doesn’t need you, but you still don’t leave, cause you know it does. Through good and through bad, London is my land, it’s where I know I belong. I studied Japanese, and my fascination with Japanese still haunts me throughout my life. It is an influence that never stops. Even after remembering “konnichiwa” becomes an effort, Japan still lives in you. I lived in Japan for one year (the infamous earthquake hit that year), and coincidentally it was the most amazing year of my life. Or at least the most exotic one. And these are the things I write about – God, London and Japanese. Chances are, you’ll know me much better through my books than my own bio. Be blessed, remember God cares for you, and don’t hesitate to e-mail me. I’m not on any social networks – but make the most of this website if you’d like to know me. Read more posts |