Are you there, God? It’s me, Leticia.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Leticia. I’ve been absent a long time because I didn’t realise the very nature of the world.

I remember telling the world that I wasn’t a Buddhist, but that I did Buddhist things. I chanted the mantra of compassion and wailed. I did loving-kindness meditation every day without realising that this state of ever-love was something I was taught by a Church when I was a kid and too young to understand it or care.

And then I became mother and the entire world changed. I walked through a fire unlike any fire of my life. I faced one of the most significant deaths of Self I have ever encountered, and it spilled out into my world and fractured everything for such a long time – including my marriage. When I re-formed back into a recognisable human being, I embraced art and creativity in new ways. I even published a collection of poetry about how I struggled to come to terms with what I was never told about the sheer beauty of motherhood. So filled with angst was I about how I felt like I had wasted my life despite all of the “achievements” I had made.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Leticia, and I remember you. You were there in the beginning.

Not just the beginning of all worlds and all creations, but at the beginning of Me. At the beginning of every new life. At the beginning of all new works, all new Arts, all new creations, there you are. Sometimes dressed in the shining, shimmering garments of a Muse with a hidden name. Sometimes you whisper ideas of deliciousness, inviting me into pathways I’d never seen, or heard, or known.

When I realise the immensity of what it means to be a Source of all creation, I lose my mind with the scale. Mathematicians may be the only academics who really know you exist. When I know the sheer scale of ‘beginning’, I realise that those who thank the universe forget that the universe ‘exists’ and therefore began somewhere. I realise that those who thank the ‘Source’ are simply afraid of the word God. Without you, birth is impossible and mothers are redundant.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Leticia. I have been afraid of recognising you in public.

The public shames those who believe in God, and champions those who uplift any alternative term. And yet, you called me. You keep calling me to you, and I will always answer.

I remember when I felt so drawn to pray the Rosary that I was physically restrained from doing anything else than buying a set of beads one afternoon. I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t be without it. I will never forget how praying the Rosary restored to me the capacity to meditate after exposure to COVID-jabbed people who were shedding, how it restored to me my energetic body and allowed me to keep functioning. Since then, I have prayed daily and my entire life has changed direction, for the better. Society has dived into a deep hole of blasphemy since the population took the poison, and it is no surprise as to why.

You are there, God. I am Leticia, and I know you, name you and honour you.

Thank you for all you do for me, and long may your light shine into and redeem this darkening realm.

xx Leticia

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