I was guided by the Spirit to a hermitage at the Living Miracles Monastery. The whole world drops away, as I allow time to pass by while watching the cloud floating by, and the sky changing colors to its content.

The deepest time is in the early morning when the canyon is completely dark and the stars in the sky are shining brightly in the clearest and deepest blue there is. The dim orange light that radiates out of the cabin window down in the campground is the only thing with me in the deepest silence, inside and out. Suddenly this little light down below means more than anything in this world. Knowing that someone is experiencing the same miracle that is indescribable by means of this world, I observe the distance between two people disappear completely. I know this person intimately, just by being able to share the same holy moment that is beyond all senses and all perception.

I finally understand all the poets, why they have to use such romantic words and rhythms, and how this is the only way through human expression to be close to God and His Love. It is the eyes that can see the shining moon and suddenly feel speechless by its beauty. How can I describe it and deliver the miracle that is felt in that moment?

Only God can reach my heart and light it up. Isn’t this enough to know who I am? How can I be anything but a part of Him if he is the only one that makes me feel alive?


When every step you walk,

And every drop of water you drink,

Becomes a reason to be grateful,

It dawns on the mind,

how much has been taken for granted,

And how,

A blind person who covers his eyes with his own hands,

Has been complaining for darkness.

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