The fact of God's help from Maria 28.09.2024

Peace be with you! Christ is in our midst! This is not my first testimony, but it is the most important one for me because it concerns my mother. My mother was a beautiful and very active woman in her youth—a Komsomol member, a party organizer, a brigade leader, a merchandiser with honors. But for more than 33 years, she drank alcohol, smoked since the age of 18, and now, at 59 years old, this life had taken its toll. My childhood was filled with shame—shame for my mother, for her foul language, for her reckless lifestyle, for how she always walked around with a cigarette in her mouth. To say that I lived would be an exaggeration—my life was filled with grief because my parents drank. My mother raised my brother and me alone. My brother became a criminal, was imprisoned three times, and was eventually killed. My mother got together with a man and continued "enjoying life," trying to take everything she could from it. In the end, they lost everything—jobs, respect, even their human dignity. For 26 years, my stepfather beat her mercilessly, leaving her with a broken body and ruined face—he knocked out all her teeth, broke her nose, once beating her so badly that the skin on her face was hanging loose. But she still stayed with him, drowning everything in vodka. When I was 10 years old, my mother told my brother and me, "I gave birth to you, now live as you want and let me live my life!" And we each went our own way. My brother was killed—stabbed by my stepfather. My mother witnessed the murder, but after my stepfather was sentenced to only nine months in prison, he was released, and they happily continued living together! The years passed, time ran on… I grew up, now I am 38 years old, and though I have moved forward, the scars remain, the pain lingers, my life was completely shattered. But in 2016, I began praying with Bolgar, and my life changed forever! There are no words to describe everything that happened to me before and after. The facts speak for themselves. I could write endlessly, but I will keep it brief. When I came to God, He revealed to me all my sins and filth, but at the same time, He also showed me all the times He saved me, sent me angels, and guided me. God had always been with me. The Lord took a needle and thread and sewed up every wound in my heart. He removed all my childhood scars, all the bitterness and resentment I had held against my mother, stepfather, brother, and many others. When I started praying—for myself, for my family, for the living and the dead—I was bedridden for a week. I went through withdrawals like an addict. A foul stench emanated from me, my hair turned into a tangled mess that I couldn’t even brush through, and I suddenly developed a whole bouquet of illnesses. But I never turned to doctors—I simply trusted in God and prayed. I confessed, received Communion, and repented, repented, repented. I eventually recovered, but the stench continued for three months. Over the years, I forgave my mother and everyone who had wronged me, and I felt an overwhelming desire to pray for them. I wanted to find everyone, embrace them, ask for forgiveness. The Lord showed me everything—from early childhood, every wrong turn I had taken, every person I had hurt. On January 1, 2019, I began praying for my mother and stepfather with the Akathists to the Mother of God before Her icons "The Inexhaustible Cup" and "Seeking the Lost." I begged all the saints to help my mother stop drinking. A year passed, there were some changes, but also many relapses. My mother had been registered as a cancer patient since 2012, classified as a third-degree disabled person due to lung cancer. But in 2020, she lost her disability status and her pension. She lived in a small village—no job, no pension, no money for alcohol. My stepfather went blind, yet still demanded alcohol, cigarettes, and food. He never worked a single day in their 26 years together—she supported him all those years. On May 25, 2021, I received a call: my mother had been severely beaten by my stepfather. He had beaten her over the head with a rolling pin and strangled her with it—all because she didn’t bring him vodka and cigarettes. When she realized she couldn’t fight him off, she pretended to be dead. That was the only reason he let go. The moment he turned away, she jumped up, pushed him aside, and ran to the neighbors. They took care of her for two days, but on the third day, half of her body became paralyzed—her face, arm, and leg were no longer functioning. She was covered in bruises, barely alive. We arranged for an ambulance and sent her to the hospital. When my stepfather found out she was in the hospital, he immediately hanged himself. This is how God acts through prayer. This is how demons react to prayer. God saved my mother’s life because of my prayers. Now, she lies in diapers, unable to drink, smoke, or curse. I have taken her into my home and care for her myself. I pray every day for God to help me because without Him, I can do nothing. I prayed to Saint John the Baptist with an Akathist, asking him to help bring my mother to God. And by God’s will, on the Third Finding of the Head of Saint John the Baptist, my mother received Communion and Confessed for the first time in 60 years! I cried tears of joy, knowing that one more soul had been saved and brought to God. I prayed to the Mother of God before Her icon "The Queen of All" for my mother’s healing from cancer. Two years of prayer. For nine years, doctors had confirmed she had cancer. Now, they can’t find it. God is with us, and He helps us in everything! Now, in raising my son, I am not alone—I am with God. I hope my story will be helpful to someone. Glory to You, O Lord, for everything! All saints, pray to God for us, sinners!