I know it might sound kinda crazy but it doesn’t make it less true.
I had my first God experience at the early age of 8 years old. Whenever I would be in bed I would say my prayers, for all the people in war, for all the people in pain, for all the people that were sick, for my mom, dad and all my beloved plastic ponies. I prayed and asked a lot from God.
So then I felt sorry for God, all of these people all over this world asking God for all of these things every.single.day. The man must be tired, exhausted and way to busy to ever ask something for himself. So I said a little prayer for him. What happened next blew my eight year old mind.
The exact second when I prayed this prayerful God, I saw a hand, covered in white light. He was gently laying his hand on my shoulder, like a father would. I was not afraid, it felt soft, loving yet very powerful.
This experience stayed with me, yet I hid this experience from my friends and family, for not to let them think I was any weirder than I already was. I told myself I probably imagined it myself. Yet after that very day, I started praying for God every single day there on after, but now for a whole other reason;to see his hand again. I never saw or felt it again.
I have been interested in Christianity, visited several different churches yet did never find my groove in it. I did not understand the bible, why God was this cruel?, it didn’t feel right to me. And the answers I got as: “this are the mysteries of religion” never came close to satisfying my questions.
As a God that uses cruelty to get rid of cruelty made and still makes no sense to me and I could also not believe people who do good things all of their life and do not believe in God can ever go to hell.
So somehow, despite my own grand memory as an eight year old, I decided:
God does not exist.
Life went on and I started to suffer. I found myself in a deep dark cloud of depression for about 10 years till something remarkable happened to me, again.
I learned in therapy that writing could be a good idea, getting all of my emotions out there, on paper, made me feel like I had less of heavy emotions to carry with me. I had a lot of questions, like would I ever get better, why is life so fucked up? And why does it all hurt so damn much? little did I know or expect, something would write me back.
This was a very surreal experience the first time around, like my hand got taken over and the words just poured on out. No matter how crap I felt and how much I cursed at life on paper, something would write to me that it would all be Ok, I would get trough this and I was loved, for all in eternity.
I just wrote it off as an illusion, yet it happened to me again, and again and again…
It is only now, about four years later since this started happening to me, that I actually dare to write about it, out loud.
Call him God or call her Love, it is all the same, yet it is always here, for all of us. Always leading us back to the path, the path of love, the path of forgiveness, the path of reality behind the thick cloud of illusions this world is currently covered in.
And so I learned, God is not cruel, he is LOVE, and he is not truly a he but something combining feminine and masculine energy, as he/she is one, beyond the duality of this world.
If we dare to truly listen, Love will show us, again and again, there is no thing to fear. There are no laws we have to abide but Gods’, and Gods laws are endlessly beautiful. What you give out, will come back to you and what you teach, you will learn.
No matter how many times you forget the path to him, love will always lead you back.
Dare. Listen. Share. Receive.
It is time to live in peace,
PS. I do not think I am anything special for talking to God, as I deeply believe all of us can if we truly want to. He is always here and will be happy to talk to you, help you and support you. No matter where, no matter when. Ask and God will answer, with Love. And he/she might not always answer in words or vision; intuition or inspiration might “just” be another way God is talking to you, every.single.day…