duminică, 30 august 2009

About His Icon

I've started crying when I'd seen His icon from Sinai. And I've wanted so much to have it. Surprisingly, I've had a hard time finding it.. What I'd like to emphasize is that His blessing hand looks normal in His other various “representations”. There is nothing in there to draw your attention ... You'll understand what I mean ...

During one of my depression crises, I've punched the wall! Violently! I've painfully collapsed in bed with my fist open and reddened… yelling and arguing with Him. But during my suffering, I could not help staring at the icon. Then I've become speechless! His hand in my icon is reddened. His hand seems bloody! I do not know why there is such a contrast but the color is very saturated in that spot, and His hand seems bloody.

It seemed to me that He was crying and telling me: “I feel your pain"! He has felt my pain. My punching the wall has been rebellious and spiteful. It has been desperate! But I've hurt Him! It hasn't been my fist punching that wall, but His.

Ever since then, I have never punched anything and I've been looking at His hand, hoping that it's healing. That it's recovering! But that red spot is still on the icon for me never to forget … In fact, I do not remember the icon in a different way. I want to believe that this was His way of telling me that what hurts me it also hurts Him, that He feels my pain and that I am very important for Him in my suffering.

About my Mother

This image of my mother holding my hand on our way back home, in a summer afternoon. Her silk daisy-flowery dress was waving in the wind and it seemed to touch and tickle me. We were walking with the sun in front of us and the wind was blowing in our faces. She was laughing! She was wearing some delicate navy blue sandals with high heels. She was so beautiful and smooth. She was holding my hand and while I was walking, I was looking at her. I kept looking at her! As long as she was holding my hand, I wasn't caring on what I step. I was so proud and fond of my mom. As long as she was holding my hand, nothing bad could happen.

About music …

Yann Tiersen is a crazy beautiful and extraordinary French musician. While listening to his music, I can ride a bicycle without holding the handle bar and I'm convinced that no car will hit me. There is no way this could happen! It's my street ... It's my one-way street, it's my childhood bicycle, it’s the way to the sea and towards the light and I have the power to pedal towards it.

I downloaded a movie with and about Arvo Part yesterday. In my heart, this was my Christmas gift for you. It says in the movie that every blade of grass has the value of a flower. What a miracle! Each musical note has a value by itself. I understand that there is God in every person now. It makes sense now. I understand what it means to have a calling to be God.

Chagall is the equivalent of Yann Tiersen in painting. I've identified myself in his paintings. I am the one who is flying, I am the one flying over Paris in a bride dress, it's me who he is holding so tenderly in his arms and it's me all the violins in the world are playing for.

About myself

I know that somewhere deep down in my soul, there is something precious and valuable. It's a crumb of divinity. I am not scum. I am not a creep as my mother used to call me. I am a human being who wants to grow and who wants to be good. Who struggles to be good.

His hands have cured all my vices which I've considered impossible to get cured. There is no “I can't do this”! I've stopped smoking cigarettes or other herbs, I am trying to get rid of “intellectual masturbation” (it is easier with the bodily one). It doesn't seem that hard to refrain from bodily relations. I'm fighting the filth around me with a power that it is not mine. It is His! It is very easy because I know I do everything for Him. He has showed me how beautiful and delicate His world was. He made Yann Tiersen and Arvo Part so crazy and so delicate and their music is made by Him for Him!


He has given me my grandmother and He has wanted me to live with her in an insane family for me not to become insane and to commit suicide and to give me a benchmark of normality.

He has given me D. to give me a reason. It was for me to see that by and through D., by holding his hand, I can reach Him. He has given me D. to protect me and to take care of me. Because of His abundance of love, he has given him to me. I would have never reached Him with R. How could I have lead a stranger to Him when I had not known the way? I've broken up with R. not because he had not been loving me. I understand now. We would have been happy for a while, but we would have gotten bored quickly of each other. One cannot build anything on sand ...

The human love is so uncertain, so fragile, so unsafe. It is so temporary.

I would have never confessed. I would have never yearned for the Eucharist. I would have never met Father …

No, I would not have reached Him in another way! And…especially, we would have never met, Sister, in that store on the outskirts of Iasi, on that sunny day, where I had not been since then ... I would have never looked for myself, deep inside me, on Wednesday, December 17, 08, at 8:38 am, knowing that my Sister is at the other end of this invisible thread ...

The greenest M.

My beloved and green girl,

Thank you for your tears, for the music and for your love!

Thank you especially for the confidence to go along with me through all this birth from pain. Yes, I feel more deeply the sharing of these birth pains. I am reborn in a deeper and more real manner with each and everyone of you that dares to go through your souls' customs, although I do not remember a thing about myself.

Let me kiss your hands and I ask you to forgive me for my helplessness or all my oversights, because they come from a human being with a soul still to be cured.

With love and gratitude,

Mother Siluana

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