The fact of God's help from Sophia 11.07.2024

Good people, I want to share my story with you. I first learned about God in elementary school during a class called "Spiritual and Moral Education." When I found out that God existed, my soul rejoiced. However, my faith in Christ was born much later. From birth, I didn’t really like myself. I didn’t accept my body. At 16, I had anorexia, which turned into bulimia. Around the same time, I also developed epilepsy. Deep inside, I felt that nothing was accidental. I had questions, and I searched for answers. I didn’t like taking medication, especially the idea that I had to take it for at least five years continuously. So I looked for another way out—and I found it in raw foodism. It helped me a lot, even with bulimia. But six months after stopping the medication, the seizures returned. I enrolled in university to study psychology, but after six months, I dropped out and got into hitchhiking and traveling. At first, I thought I needed to experience the freedom of life before focusing on studying or working. I trusted people. I believed in the kindness of human hearts. I listened to my heart. But still, I lived a very sinful life. Then I met my future husband. Our eyes met—and our hearts, too. On the very first day we were alone together, without friends, he asked me: "Will you be my wife and bear my children?" I was stunned. "What? Are you serious?" I didn’t believe it, even though I secretly wanted it. He repeated the question—very seriously—and I said yes. His confidence amazed me. I also found out that he had read the entire Bible and tried to follow Christ’s teachings. My curiosity led me to start studying the Gospel myself. Unfortunately, at some point, he began to doubt, and now he no longer believes in Christ. I don’t understand how that happened, but I pray for him. A year later, our daughter, Vera, was born. We baptized her because our parents wanted us to. After the baptism, we also got married in church—again, because our parents insisted. We thought that faith itself was the most important thing and didn’t really understand these sacraments. One night, I had a terrifying dream—an apocalypse, a flood. After that, it was as if I woke up. I started looking for prophecies and came across predictions of the end times by Orthodox elders. I also found a book, "Sent by God," about a boy named Vyacheslav. After reading it, I had a revelation—I felt that everything in it was true! I realized that Orthodox faith is salvation, and that we need to confess and receive communion, not just believe. I was so happy! Christ loves me! He led me to Himself! My soul longed for Him, and He helped me understand so much. Even my diet became a way to glorify God. I even thanked Him for my epilepsy—because without it, I might have fallen into even greater temptations (alcohol, drugs). Instead, I tried to take care of my health. Though, I did use weed—I thought it wasn’t harmful. God, forgive me. My soul was filled with grace. I realized my mistakes with my husband and in general, and I prayed with tears. I prayed constantly because I knew He was everywhere. Then, in my spirit, I prayed to God for healing from epilepsy. I believed I was healed and stopped taking medication. Six months later, I had a check-up—they said everything was fine, no more seizure activity. Our relationship with my husband also started to change. I realized that I needed to let go of my complaints about him, focus on myself, our child, and just live, rejoice, and trust in God. But then my deceitful mind started coming up with grand ideas about myself, which, sadly, led me astray. I became aware of my pride—my falsehoods were exposed, and I was shaken. Instead of repenting, I fell into despair. Misunderstandings with my husband began. The grace left, and my mind became clouded. I felt that God didn’t love me in this sinful, angry, resentful, sorrowful state, full of weaknesses. I didn’t know what to do. I thought, I’ll go to church, follow the prayer rule, fight my sins—and then grace will return. But it didn’t. After a long time, I realized all my hypocrisy and was disgusted by it. I saw that I had relied not on God, but on my own deeds. That I had more fear in me than love. When I prayed for someone close to me to quit smoking, I faced strong temptations—stress, thoughts of smoking, cravings… and I gave in. I started smoking again. Then began another battle—I knew it was a sin, but I wanted it. I thought, How can I make it so I don’t even desire it? I silently asked God for this. I realized I couldn’t overcome it by my own efforts alone—I needed help. So I submitted my husband’s and my names for collective prayer. I started praying the Akathists to St. John the Baptist and to the Mother of God "The Seeker of the Perishing" at the beginning of February. Since then, many things have changed. From early spring, I stopped smoking weed—and I don’t even want to anymore! Before, so much energy went into this struggle, but now I feel free. I rejoice more. I confessed and received communion during Great Lent. Hallelujah! There’s still much to work on, but now, through my own experience, I know what not to do and what to remember—faith, hope, and love. I try to feel God’s presence and continue walking this path in His Spirit. No despair, no giving up. I listen to my inner Quiet Guide. Glory to You, God, for everything—for sorrow and for joy!!!