The storm brings maturity. A man with a life story is an authentic, beautiful, and precious soul, one who looks beyond appearances. Today\u2019s world values images behind which there is often an endless emptiness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If you want to kill an audience, post photos of underprivileged children, speak about love, and spread the teachings of Christ. Few wish to be disturbed in their pursuit of pleasures for a discussion about conscience, morality, or meaning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Today\u2019s divided society reminds me of a summer storm, admired with a heart in my throat from the porch of a country house, while my grandmother gathered laundry from the clothesline. I left the German language academy and stopped at a nearby park to celebrate the completion of a beloved project.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Two children sat down on the grass, with their faces turned toward the sky, watching the clouds. From time to time they stand up and throw a frisbee to each other, then run in circles and settle in different spots. They admire the noisy ducks that, gliding, touch the delicate tops of the reeds with their wings and land on the little island, where impatient ducklings are waiting for them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The clouds gather, the sky darkens, and the first drops of rain appear. The children answer their parents\u2019 call through two walkie-talkies, pack their things, and head home. Purity floats in the air, seeping through the slow melody that gently caresses my soul in my headphones and draws a sigh from me:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What a wonderful world, populated by perfect beings with angelic faces, and what a traumatic happiness greets me!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some underprivileged children are forced to perform adult work from an early age, while others continue their studies in the comfort of modern houses, only for it to eventually turn out that they have achieved nothing. But the storm of injustice still strikes those who are already suffering, killing them coldly and without remorse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Truly, if God had not granted me the light of understanding, I would have lost my mind seeing the prosperity of some and the trauma of others. Suffering souls undergo accelerated growth, which is why they leave this transient Earth prematurely. For those comforted by material ease, not even a thousand lives would be enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the countryside, during my childhood, I used to delight in the spectacle of majestic clouds announcing the storm. The yellowish rays that highlighted their frightening shapes fascinated me, and the longing for an unknown love weakened the strength of my outer being and gave it to my inner one. In the distance, thunder echoed, shaking the hills, while villagers and animals sought shelter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Beyond any superstition, there must be an almighty God, I told myself, since people are so deeply frightened at the sound of cracking noises, yet are so little impressed by the truth of which they know no more than what the priest recites to them in church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Human society is built and sustained by artists, while priests, politicians, and bankers destroy it. The dignity of peoples has been trampled underfoot by the very institutions founded to provide them with safety and trust. And yet, this is how it must be, so that man may lose his trust in the diabolical authority of the Earth and seek guidance from his Creator.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Blessed is the one who sees light in darkness, consolation in suffering, and God even in his enemy. He has already conquered the Kingdom of Heaven in earthly life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Truly, perhaps we are divine beings, clothed in corrupt bodies, so that we may know humility and become humble; so that we may know pain and become aware; so that we may know suffering and become profound; so that we may know solitude and become independent; so that we may know freedom and become responsible and wise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We therefore understand that without rain no plant would grow, just as without the storm that breaks upon him, man would not become perfected. Forgetfulness and searching give birth to revolt and shame; self-discovery brings consolation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I have written a book about the storm I have been subjected to throughout my life and about the light I have drawn from it. The Last Gospel vol. 2<\/mark><\/a> is available in pdf and paperback format.<\/p>\n\n\n\n