You give me so much God. Every day, every hour, every minute, even every second, I should thank our Lord Jesus Christ for all the graces that have fallen on me, that in his infinite graciousness he has showered on me. I don’t cry when I’m unwell in a human way, I don’t complain when the misfortunes of this world batter me like a whip. Of course, this is not always the case. Sacred is your Name, and mine is that rejected in the hell of the world for sin, that human rubbish.
Sometimes I see ready-made solutions to a problem and I wait for you to give them to me Lord. But You do not give them. You wait for me to wake up, to see for myself that this is just an excuse to do nothing. I snatch hours from sleep, moments at work, working for you and think sometimes why I can’t write, work for you all day . Then you give me unexpectedly a day off from human work…. and I won’t do anything.
Sad but true, because you Lord Jesus Christ know that these moments snatched from the world are pure devotion to you. Independent of human needs, money, life …
Lord give me wings ! The unconscious soul cries out.
Why do you need wings ? If you had faith like a mustard seed you would move mountains . Why do you need wings? You have everything, but do you lack faith?
Curled up, alone, like a dog, chastised, rejected. The world laughs, scoffs and mocks :
Who are you…
How dare you…
Hell is waiting for the likes of you …
You don’t let me die you just make me live. Maybe one day I will find what I am looking for. A faith based on truth, not on human beliefs. I will not live to see the conversion of many , but I will see them wake up. Shorten this time, Lord, I beg you, I pray.
I would like to sit in the last pew somewhere off to the side, pray and see people make the Sacrifice to God again. To see that and to die . This is the hope that allows me to live .
You are so close. Thy love washes my soul, but I a wretched creature want like Jonah to flee to Spain. Lord God point out one who understands your so simple message and my soul will be filled with hope again ….
I know this is not a time of complaint and death. This is a time of struggle and resurrection.
It is blasphemy to say- I am alone, because You are always with us and the Mother of God guides and protects us.
However …
I am sad, God, until death
Arkadiusz Niewolski
Catholic during the Great Apostasy 
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