Writing

Writing

sâmbătă, 24 decembrie 2016

The Story of Almah - Daughter of The King, Chapters 2 and 3

2nd Chapter

“Still here?” J asked on a friendly tone. “Nah… again here.” Almah replied. “How come You only come to me when I’m doing laundry?” she asked. “Your mind is more clear. And you pay more attention to me. I don’t know… laundry makes you think better, so I prefer to come to you in moments like these. So things got better, huh? You melted Grinch’s heart?” – “I don’t know if I melt it, but yes, things are better.” Almah said with a smile. “Yet you’re still concerned.” J added. “I’m iffy.” – “Is that even a word?” – “Actually it is… I’m having mixed feelings. I’m happy things are good with Joe, but that doesn’t mean they are right.” – “You’ll figure it out when the time comes. Just remember, my birthday is still about Me.” J concluded with a smile and kissing her forehead like always, left.
Almah was the youngest and wildest sister of J. She did not choose to be a princess. She was born one, but there was something in her personality that made her rebel against this faith very often. She lived in the happiest Kingdom of all and her Father was the best and most powerful King, but even though He wished all people would live in His Kingdom He would never force anyone. That meant that the only way for the Kingdom to expand was by sharing the experience of its inhabitants with the rest of the world. And Almah had been born to do that. It was her mission to let the world know that the best place to be was in the Kingdom. And although she believed it with all her heart, accomplishing that mission was something she felt she was failing to do.
“Come, let’s take a walk.” Said a familiar voice. “Coffee?” – “Always” Almah replied taking the paper cup from her companion’s hand. “So, how are your preparations going?” – “Behind schedule, of course.” – “What’s missing?” – “My perspective?” – “Ha ha ha… well, only you could know that.” – “I got your first two letters yesterday, you know.” – “Oh, cool. Kids still asking for a bunch of Noriel stuff to increase your anxiety?” – “Not these ones, you’ll enjoy these, they have drawings.” And taking two letters out of her purse, Almah gave them to him. “Remember what I told you last year?” – “Yeah…” – “Did you do that?” – “Melchior…” – “I’m serious. I was serious last year too.” – “I know.” – “So?” – “So I didn’t find what I was searching for, but I managed to lose what I thought I had, too.” – “Good.” – “Good?” – “Good. Losing what you thought you had is the first step to finding what you need to find.” Almah stared into Melchior’s eyes, her old wise friend. “You’re going out again, right?” – “Yes.” Almah said on a serious tone. “Be careful. Compromise in faith is never good. Yes, I know, people will say we are fanatics. But it’s not about that. Compromise in faith makes you crippled, divided. You have one foot here and the other one outside. You coming and going in and out of your home would be nothing bad, if your heart would not be divided. But your heart is divided. I can hear it break inside of you right now. I see how your eyes are tired and your mind is tired, because you cannot make your own mind - it’s tossing and turning caught between two worlds. You want to be happy, but you also have to stay true to your identity. And, like it or not, you’re a princess. You were born to be a messenger to your Father, to this Kingdom. You tried many times to escape this, but this is who you are. And going out there and denying yourself, that’s what’s breaking you.” – “I’m sorry, where’s Balthazar? He gave me pistachios.” Almah asked while trying to smile. “Everybody here wants what’s best for you, Almah. And even if it doesn’t seem like it, we do want you to be happy. All of us. And especially Your Father.” – “I know. But I still feel stuck.” – “I’m afraid you’ll be feeling like that for a while. You’ll be feeling like that until you figure out deep inside of you what you want and make a decision. The right decision will make you free.” Almah nodded but was incapable of saying anything. “Be good if you can.” Melchior added.
Almah headed outside. The Kingdom didn’t have clear borders. And it didn’t have any fences. It was open for everyone to come in and out as they wished. Some lived right at the joining point between the Kingdom and the rest of the world. Some lived in the man’s land, but very close to the Kingdom. And some, like Joe, lived a bit further away. Joe was a good man, a righteous man, one that sought justice and peace. He had a big heart, and like all men with a big heart, he was disappointed by something and he never talked about it. He was intelligent, and like all smart men, he was skeptical about the Kingdom. For intelligent men don’t want to listen to somebody else, even more so, they don’t want to listen to a King. Almah had to stray far from her home to meet him, passing through all sorts of areas. Usually, she would leave her true identity behind and go as one of the travelers. Some knew who Almah was, some always wondered. Almah, herself, always wondered. She felt good in the world. She connected to so many different people and she loved all of them. But as she was walking the long distance to Joe’s house she would always wonder if she could ever get used to living so far away from her home. If she could ever settle for not being who she was meant to be. If she could ever forgive herself for giving up her heritage. All these thoughts roamed around her mind. She liked the world. She loved Joe. She loved his house. But a still small voice always reminded her that she wasn’t home.
“What’cha doin’?” J asked on a cheery tone, appearing out of nowhere behind Almah. “Just because You can resurrect people doesn’t mean You have to scare them to death.” She replied while her heart was pounding. “Haha, good one. What are you baking?” – “Nutellotti.” – “I suppose that means they’re made with Nutella…” – “D’ooh!” – “Sounds good. What’s wrong?” – “I’m behind schedule… I didn’t get everything done yet AND I never know what cake to bake you.” – “I like everything you’re baking, you know that!” – “Yeah, but it’s Your birthday and…” – “You’ve been away for long and you want to make it up to me?” – “Yeah, something like that.” – “Al, relax. The only thing that matters to me is for us to spend this evening together.” – “How are things around there?” Almah asked while her hands were molding small balls from a very brown dough. “You know, same old. I had to prevent Nick from a meltdown.” – “Freaking out over the Santa Clauses?” – “Get a saint with OCD to face one of history’s biggest inaccuracies… How’s Joe?” – “Busy. Cleaning the house, stuff like that.” – “Did you invite him over?” – “You know he wouldn’t come.” – “D’oh, but it’s important that he knows we love him. And we care about him.” – “I don’t think he believes that.” – “Then show him.” – “What?” – “Show him our true nature. Show him that he’s important to us. Al, you’re my favorite sister. I wouldn’t give you to just anybody if I didn’t have a plan, wouldn’t I?” – “What? J…!” But J already turned and left the kitchen. J was just like His Father. He never revealed His plans completely, and most of the times, His plans were very different from what anyone would imagine. Almah continued her baking and her feelings about this Christmas were getting more and more mixed up.
            
3rd Chapter

Almah was in her room finishing her make-up when she heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” J opened the door and stopped in front of it, measuring Almah. She was wearing a dark blue dress with a small white wool vest. Her hair was falling on her shoulders and you could see a bit of blue around her eyes coming out from behind her glasses. “You look so pretty!” J said. “You think?” – “Always.” He smiled and walked straight to the table where the nutellotti were placed on a tray. “No, no, wait!” Almah shouted behind Him. “What? Don’t tell me you won’t let me eat them until midnight!” – “No, I just need to add a little something” and she went to take something out of her drawer. “Oh, did I tell you I sent some milk and cookies in Nick’s room? Just to tease him…” and they both started laughing. “Poor Nick…” Almah added. “Here!” – she took one of the nutellotti and put a small candle in the middle of it and lit it. She continued while giving J the cookie: “You’re not just my brother. You’re my best friend. My life companion. You’re the one who’s always there for me, whether I’m doing good or complete shit. You never give up on me, no matter how many times I give up on both of us and all this Kingdom. You always loved me. And I love you first, no matter how far from home I ever get. Happy birthday, J!” J took the cookie, blew the candle and gave Almah a hug. “Wanna dance?” He asked and turned on a song. “Fairytale of New York?” Almah asked surprised. “You like this song?” – “No,” J answered. “I find it very offensive, actually, but I know you like it. And it’s good for dancing. We can play roles!” Throughout the song J would ask her “You really like this?” – “Yes, it’s bittersweet. And I’m used to bittersweet Christmases, You know!” – “Haha, ok, I’ll give you that!” – “Thanks!” When the song was finished, J took Almah’s hand and said “Let’s go, or we’ll be late again!” – “Yeah, yeah, I also have to confess before the Mass starts.” Almah added. – “Oh, trust me, I know you have to confess!” J said chuckling. “Merry Christmas, J!” – “Merry Christmas, little dove!”. J

joi, 22 decembrie 2016

The story of Almah - Daughter of the King



            First Chapter

It was the 22nd of December and Almah was sitting in the middle of the laundry room. She had just taken her first half of a Xanax pill and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Clothes were scattered all around and the washing machine was waiting suffocated to be emptied. J, her Brother, walked in. “I did not expect to see you here.” He said. “I told You I’d be home for Christmas…” Almah replied without looking Him in the eyes. “Al...” J started while kneeling down beside her. “This is not how it was supposed to be.” Almah said, and her eyes got even fuller with tears. “If anything, I would have never thought you’ll flood the laundry room with tears…” J said. Almah smiled but her crying got even worse. “This is not how it was supposed to be” she said again. J continued on His joking tone: “By now, you should have known that things in this Kingdom don’t go as people planned them. We do have a King.” – “And His first born Son has a very fine sense of humor” she replied. “Al…“ J continued, “every year you try to make this big fuss about my birthday only to get here 3 days before and freak out on everyone for everything that didn’t go according to your plan. I hate to ruin this for you, but My birthday is actually about Me.” This time Almah was really laughing. “Yeah, I figured… but then explain to me, why does everyone feel the need to make such a big masquerade about it when they don’t even have a clue who You are?” – “Why does it bother you they do?” – “It never bothered You?” – “Why would it bother Me? Most of them do good. They try harder. They care about the others. They do nice stuff. They don’t do it for Me, but I’m not jealous like that.” J concluded smiling. “Well, I found Grinch. And trust me, he couldn’t care less about You and apparently about me either.” “Al, you know that ain’t true.” “Ain’t?” Almah repeated with a disapproving tone. “Did you go visit your bros in the Bronx?” she asked while laughing. “That’s all you got?” J replied. “Yeah, well, you’re the Big J.C.” and she put out her tongue. J rolled His eyes, took a deep breath and continued: “I was telling you that what you said IS NOT true. Joe’s a good man, and you know that. But “each shall seek its own kind”. “You’re seriously quoting Fiddler on the roof to me?” Almah asked while taking a pause. But she knew very well what J meant with those words. Each shall seek its own kind. In other words, a bird may love a fish, but where would they build a home together? J got up from the floor and started folding the laundry. “I know you wished for a different Christmas. Last year you wrote me a letter that you’re skipping my birthday.” – “But I changed my mind afterwards…” Almah interfered. “Yes, you did. Though I know you did it more for the Three Kings than for me” J winked. “Shut up.” Almah said with a smile in the corner of her mouth. “Stop interrupting me, I had something to tell you.” J resumed. “You wanted to skip my birthday last year because you were sick of coming alone. This year you hoped you’ll have a perfect Christmas with Joe. But turns out you’re dating Grinch, haha… you gotta love our Father’s humor” J said while turning to see Almah’s reaction. “Yeah, I love it, don’t I?” she said while trying to keep a straight face.” “Al, you know very well that the problem is not that this Christmas is gonna suck for you just like all others. And I can’t believe I’m saying this! The real problem is that you’ve been away from home for too long. You don’t know who you are anymore. You don’t know where you’re going or what you want to do in this world and in this Kingdom. You are not happy. Al, you went out to find your happiness and although you had it for a little while, now it’s gone. And you feel lost. And that’s ok. But if you want to be happy this Christmas you have to trust Me. And you don’t really trust Me, don’t you?” J looked Almah deep in her brown eyes. They had the same eyes. He kissed her forehead and said “I have to go now. I’ll see you later.” And Almah went on with her laundry going over and over the last words J said to her. She didn’t trust Him. Why couldn’t she trust Him?



vineri, 5 august 2016

Me before you.

I've waited 2 months to see Me before you. As in I waited a month for it to appear, and another to have the courage to watch it, because I already knew the ending and I knew it would give me all the feels. First I saw the trailer: a love story between a caretaker and a man with disabilities (after Mozart and the Whale and Adam, I was looking forward to a new production). But then I found an article (SPOILER!!!) that emphasized on how the message sent by this movie might be very wrong for society (the protagonist decides ending his life in favor of living with a disability). Maybe I'm not entitled to talk about it, but I definitely need to. I've met amazing women in love with men with disabilities. I've read their stories, shared their struggles. They are by far the strongest, bravest, most powerful women I've ever met. I've cried for them. I've worried for them. And I've empathized with all of their stories. 
So let me tell you a little something about my own story: I can't put on a red dress and make it all better. I can't put on a green dress, a blue dress, or no dress, for that matter. I can't do anything to make it better - but I did succeed making it worse (but that's a different topic). I don't have to change. I don't have to learn and I don't have to do anything, because the truth is, I can't. The life of someone with a disability is not mine to fix. I can't fix this, because I don't have to. All I can do, all I did (and it seems I still do) is love. And yes, it did change me. It took my life and spin it completely until I didn't even know who was starring back at me in the mirror. And I read books. I joined a support group. I learned. I wanted to do my best to adjust and adapt. I tried to figure it all out. I tried to be the best version of myself because I thought that if I will make it my life's goal to do better, to make it better, I will prove that happiness is real and possible, I will prove my love is real. And I'll share with you a little secret: it was all about me. I grew. I loved. I cried and despaired. I learned. I know so much about it that all I want is to become a professional and my life will never be the same again. But it's still all about me. I made myself better. And I made myself stronger. And I loved. And maybe I still love. And maybe I'll love until the end of time. But the other one's life is his own life and I was nothing but a pit stop. Maybe I helped, maybe I didn't. Maybe I made it better, maybe I made it worse. Maybe I'll never know. But it's "me before you". I remember the girl I was a year ago. I see another girl in the mirror.  And I'm thankful. 
There was literally nothing I wouldn't have done to make it better. But one day I realized the only way to make it better was to do nothing. To let go, to give up, if you will. Yes. I had to bite my heart and eat it up and give up. Because I realized it wasn't about the other, it was about me. I wanted the other to be happy so that I could be happy with him. I wanted the other to feel better so that I would feel better with him. I wanted good things, wonderful things, never-ending love and happiness. But implementing those was not my job. Creating those was not in my hands. I chose to love because I wanted to. I chose to wait because I wanted to. That was my resolution. But the other's decision to live, to try, to fight, that is not my call to make. To live and let live, to love and let go.
And most importantly, to be thankful. Very very thankful. Having someone with a disability in your life is the closest you can get to loving without any conditions, without any measure, without any expectations, to love beyond the power to love. It changes you, it transforms you, it betters you in every way. But what you give to the other, how it affects them or how it transforms them, that is theirs and theirs alone. You have no credit, you have no call. 
It's me before you. You made ME better. What I have given you, only you could know. But the only thing I have left to say is: thank you. You weren't just the North of my life, by which I sailed. You have been the Northern Lights: the most beautiful thing I've ever encountered. And I am forever grateful.

sâmbătă, 9 aprilie 2016

La 7 km de Ierusalim

La 7 km de Ierusalim e titlul unui film pe care l-am revăzut de curând. A stat la baza ultimului meu articol în engleză, deoarece se centrează pe întâlnirea (în zilele noastre) dintre un jurnalist și Isus Cristos pe drumul dintre Ierusalim și Emaus. Și relația lor e foarte simplă și constituită în aparență din lucruri mărunte (ca Isus Cristos care bea din doza lui de Coca-Cola) :).
Acest articol se presupune a fi o invitație la catehezele pe care le-am început de joi în biserica Millenium din Timișoara, în fiecare luni și joi de la ora 20.00. Care e scopul catehezelor? În primul rând ca fiecare din noi să se întâlnească cu Isus Cristos. Personal. Așa cam ca și în film. La început la o plimbare, apoi treptat pentru a ne înțelege istoria noastră personală. Pentru că e mai important să ne înțelegem viața noastră și de ce Dumnezeu permite ca drumul nostru să fie cum e, de ce suferim, de ce suntem singuri sau într-o căsnicie care ni se pare că se duce de râpă, de ce moarte sau boală, și toate de ce-urile pe care ni le punem atunci când nu putem dormi și devenim prea mari pentru a număra oi. E mai important asta, decât răspunsuri teoretice la problemele lumii sau filozofii teologice. Până la urmă, întrebarea e: de ce să te întâlnești cu Isus Cristos? La ce-ți va folosi?
Eu nu am obiceiul de a trâmbița cu credința în stânga și în dreapta și nici nu mă simt comfortabil a chema oamenii la Biserică. Nu vreau să intru cu bocancii în sufrageria nimănui. Am câțiva prieteni care știu cine sunt și știu unde mă găsesc dacă au nevoie de mine. Dar cu catehezele astea e puțin altfel. În primul rând că fac parte din echipă și nu aș vrea să vorbesc singură cu biserica goală. În al doilea rând, din cauza unui exemplu pe care mi l-a dat cineva mai demult: să zicem că pleci într-o călătorie pe mare și se apropie furtuna. Tu ai barca ta care e foarte solidă și ești convins că nu se va scufunda. Celălalt e în altă barcă care nu știi dacă e suficient de solidă pentru a supraviețui furtunii. Ce faci atunci? Nu-l chemi în barca ta?
Bine, eu nu vreau să conving pe nimeni că barca mea e mai bună. Nici că barca lui nu e bună sau nu e solidă. Dar dacă cineva simte că barca lui nu ține prea bine, că ia apă, sau poate chiar s-a scufundat, eu am experimentat că barca mea nu se scufundă și îl pot ajuta să ajungă până la mal. Nu am pretenția ca cineva să se mute la mine în barcă sau să renunțe la barca lui. Ci doar să ofer o mână de ajutor până trece furtuna, doar să împrumut o vestă, o șurubelniță, o ancoră, ce-o fi nevoie.
La asta mi-a folosit mie Isus Cristos. Mi-a construit o barcă care nu se scufundă și care mă trece prin furtuni. Și o cârmuiește El însuși, că eu de fiecare dată când am încercat să trec la cârmă am luat niște stânci mari și dure în brațe. Și a avut săracul o grămadă de reparat. Și la barcă, și la mine.
Și să ne înțelegem, nu sunt un copil model. Sau un creștin. Sunt aceeași care de Crăciun i-a scris lui Isus Cristos o scrisoare în care-i spunea că nu vrea să meargă la ziua Lui pentru că nu vrea să sărbătorească Crăciunul singură. Dar în același timp, îmi place de Isus Cristos. În felul ăsta omenesc și sentimental, așa cum sunt eu capabilă, îl iubesc. Pentru că Lui pot să-I spun „Mai bine țip la Tine decât la alții!” sau „Știu că nu e vina Ta că mă doare, dar te rog stai cu mine în noaptea asta până trece.” Și îmi place să știu că El e cu mine, chiar dacă mă simt de multe ori un eșec. Chiar dacă sunt singură și simt că va trece multă vreme până voi fi fericită. Pentru că mă bazez pe El. Mă bazez pe iubirea Lui. Mă bazez că mi-a promis că voi fi fericită și voi experimenta Raiul pe pământ. Că nu e vorba de a ajunge în Rai când murim... sincer, asta e o idee insuficientă. Isus Cristos e mai mult decât atât. O relație cu Isus Cristos chiar e frumoasă, chiar merită. E un om pe care merită să-L cunoști. Chiar dacă nu ai avut nicio legătură cu El, chiar dacă nu vrei o relație cu El. Merită măcar să-L cunoști și să bei o Cola cu El. Nici eu, nici El, nu-ți cerem mai mult. Luni și joi, de la 20.00. Biserica Millenium din Piața Romanilor nr. 2 (lângă Piața Traian). Măcar o dată. :)

duminică, 27 martie 2016

Daienu - the Easter post

Every year for Easter we sing a song called “Daienu” – it tells the wonders that God has made with His people, and after each one of them it’s said “That would have been enough, that would have been enough, daienu, daienu, daienu.” – meaning that if God had done only one of the wonderful things He did it would have been enough. But He always surprises us with more miracles.
So, I too like to think about all the wonders God has made with me. And not just the big miraculous things, but especially the small ones, the moments we spent alone, the moments when I know He was there and He sat right next to me, like the loving husband He is. Like 2 years ago when I took a trip along the Inn to a small German village and there was waiting for me a Church full of sunflowers, which are my favorite. Only He could have done that.
So I sat yesterday, before leaving for the Easter Vigil, in front of my Beloved’s tomb. And in those silent moments of gratitude for His love and His death, I thought of all our beautiful moments from last year. The big ones, and the small ones… especially the small.
·When we held the catequesis in the Church and had to preach His word
·Every time we went to 1 Mai and sat on our favorite bench watching the Sun over the meadow and talking about my life
·When I was crying before my final exam and He sat with me and then walked me home
·When I left for Chisinau, scared and terrorized and He stayed always by my side, waking me up at 6 am and helping me study
· When we were in Israel, and I got my purity ring saying “I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved is mine” and we sat together in the chapel of the garden where He met Mary Magdalene
·When in Israel, on mount Carmel, He was the still small voice in the wind and He colored the entire horizon in blue, just because it’s my favorite color
·When He was holding my hand through the hard sleepless nights
· When we sat on a rooftop in Jerusalem, feeling so close to Heaven we could almost touch it
· When we visited Sibiu alone and enjoyed our time together
· When we were in Venlo and sat by the river in the sunlight and He made me feel I was beautiful to Him
When He helped me finish a special gift for someone we love
 When He renewed my strength, my faith and my hope
·When He made me feel I belong with Him and He will never let go of me
· When I read Him the whole Song of Songs on Christmas Night
·When He understood I need to wallow and encouraged me through my days of tiredness and depression
 When He told me it’s ok to let go, and reassured me He will make everything good
·Every time I feel sad and hopeless and He makes me laugh or smile about something
·When He told me I had done everything I could and sustained me through the hardships
· When I sang to Him
· When I would put Benedict to sleep and fantasize about my future wondering what He has in mind for me
·When we discovered Arad together and prayed in the Maria Radna Basilica
 And so many cups of coffee that I drank in my flat thanking Him for providing for my every need so that I could enjoy the sunlight going in through my window


My Lord is my Beloved. He died for me and resurrected for me and He is my first husband. He will make everything good, even if I don’t see it or understand it yet. One day, when I’ll look back at all we’ve been through I’ll see crystal clear that His plan is perfect and all that He does is wonderful. I am thankful for every moment we spent together, even if I let Him down so many times, even if I lost my hope and my faith, even if I didn’t accept my troubles and my pain, even if I shouted at Him many times. My sins do not surprise Him, it is His love and forgiveness that surprises me. Thank you, my Beloved, may this year make my love for You grow more and more each day!

miercuri, 6 ianuarie 2016

Melchior, where or how do I search for God?

I wrote in a previous post how I love the Feast of the Three Kings. And I do. This year though a lot of work and stress gathered up and since I had to postpone my own work to prepare for the Feast I experienced a bit of frustration and anxiety. But once I let go of that and realized that my contribution to the Feast was helpful to a lot of people I was really looking forward to meeting the Three Kings (yeah, they actually come and they barely speak Romanian so I'm their translator). And since it's my third year as the Kings's translator I too, just like the kids, write a letter to the Kings. Tradition says the letter should contain a narration of an event of the past year in which I experienced God's love and that I should also ask for a special grace and a gift.
I'm not gonna tell you all that I wrote in my letter. But after the kids met the Three Kings and spoke with them it was time for the adults to approach the Kings... not many adults were willing, which is quite weird - why we grown-ups have such little faith. But since I was there translating and I had written a letter (which, with my lack of faith I left at home for I feared actually showing it to the Kings) I asked the Kings whether they wanted to talk to me too. And Melchior asked me what did I ask for in my letter. And I said I wished for grace to see the will of God. And Melchior asked me again: "Do you seek God?" and I hesitantly replied smiling for I was very off-guard: "I try... I think so, yes..." but Melchior asked me once again: "Do you seek God seriously? Seek him, with seriousness, and all other things will be given to you." And as I tried to smile and nod "Yes" he kept on repeating "Seek God, seek Him, seriously." And he said that several times and I kept feeling smaller and smaller... There I was, the translator of the Kings, always smiling and joking and amusing, looking like one who does not search for God with seriousness. This fact makes me feel very small and altogether outside of faith. Like one who does not know God at all. And as I came home I kept replaying the scene in my mind "Seek God. Do you seek God?" - "What should I have answered? Do I seek God? I think, I mean, I don't know, I try to do His will, but I don't know what it is, so how do I know? How do I search for God?"... Truth is, I don't think I searched for God much. I think I kind of took Him for granted. He's here, he's always with me, we're in a relationship, why would I search for Him? But if I'm in a relationship with God how come I have no idea what He wants from me and my life? How come I always feel this foggy, like nothing's really clear to me and I'm never quite happy? How come I have no idea which way my life's going and if I'm doing the right thing and going in the right direction at all? Maybe it's because I don't really listen to God. I'm not really trying to find out His will. I'm just trying to see if His will is going to be doing mine. If He's going to do things my way and grant me my wishes. And that's not searching for God. And that's not faith. So now I ask "Melchior, where and how do I search for God?"...