Russian Orthodox Moms tea room: Doubts

Russian Orthodox Moms tea room: Doubts: This must be something that comes with a certain age. I started questioning a purpose of my existence. The first two decades of my adult ...

Russian Orthodox Moms tea room: Sorrow, sorrow…Russia has always been a land of ...

Russian Orthodox Moms tea room:

Sorrow, sorrow…Russia has always been a land of ...: Sorrow, sorrow…Russia has always been a land of sorrow.  Perhaps, it is history or maybe just an ethnic feature of people.  Whichever ...

Sorrow, sorrow…Russia has always been a land of sorrow.  Perhaps, it is history or maybe just an ethnic feature of people.  Whichever it is, sorrow has always been a vast part of Russian lives.  It manifests itself everywhere. 

Until I started my life here in US, I didn’t know the difference. Many may disagree with me by pointing out that no other nation celebrates like Russians (since we are known for our excessive drinking), or how brightly-colored and amusing Russian land is… and they would be right.  Russia is indeed a place of many contrasts.  Overwhelmingly exaggerated sorrow is one of them. 

How do I begin to explain this? Let me compare the differences of dealing with a loss. Since I only have experience living in Russia and the US, I will be drawing my examples from these two countries. 

As a child, I feared death.  Now that I am an adult and an Education professional, I realize every child goes through this.  I’ve come to understand, however, that it was not my own death that terrified me, but rather a loss through death and the mystery of what comes after it.  All attributes associated with a person’s dying were scary and dark and made life seem so meaningless, as death was the final result.

I recall burial services in Russia that were filled with yearning, sorrow and the fear of the unknown. It’s mystically tragic and very depressing sight of graves in cemeteries, music, keen and hysterical crying to the point of passing out. The loss of a loved one is being further cultivated, as families continue focusing on the dead, rather than living.

This was the norm until I attended a viewing and burial service of someone I knew here in the US. The drastic difference struck me like a lightning bolt. It was also filled with sorrow and sadness; an inconsolable loss for the family and friends, but it was not death - the departed life was celebrated! The end of his life here on earth, and  his beginning of eternal life in Heaven. This is what made all the difference.  There was hope! And there was faith. 

You see, in the time while I was living in Russia, we lacked that. How could this be happening in a country with overwhelming christian population, in a country that once was called a 3rd Rome because of its dedication to Christianity? Where did we all lose that? Perhaps, it is the result of decades of a Socialist life style, when God was forbidden and the bright Communist future replaced it?  I can only speculate, but as I look back at my life, I no longer have a place for continuous sorrow.  We come to this world with a purpose and only for a period of time before we can go home. It is not a place to feel sad and dark; our lives are precious gifts from God and we must celebrate them every day by doing great things! 

Doubts

This must be something that comes with a certain age. I started questioning a purpose of my existence.

The first two decades of my adult life were spent running in a survival mode. School, college, work, moving across the world, building the family and starting a career in a completely strange country. All these came not without a struggle. And this struggle, this every fight was nothing but an accomplished long list of "to do's". 

These are not the words of regret or remorse of my past, but rather a summary, and end result.

"Faith, instead of cases but reckoned me, O my God..." - from the 8th morning prayer. These words of wisdom have been hunting me. How do I live Faith? 

Russian Orthodox Moms tea room: Adventures

Russian Orthodox Moms tea room: Adventures: So, every morning by the Grace of God I wake up to an adventure. But, most mornings I don't even realize it. Most mornings feel like be...

Adventures

So, every morning by the Grace of God I wake up to an adventure. But, most mornings I don't even realize it. Most mornings feel like beginning of another day full of routines and things to be done. Most mornings start with a wish to go back to bed, with pushing myself up facing aches and pains, with thoughts rushing through my mind of challenges to face in the upcoming day.
And then I stop myself. I stop and listen to Him. He speaks to me. He shows me what this life is really all about. With the view of morning sky from my living room window. With the breath of crisp morning air. With that special serenity only early mornings bring. 
My new adventure begins...