I share my experience with the two-week pilgrimage to Compostela, several years of paths to health and a life-long journey to God. I help those who want to go on this pilgrimage.
I feel like my life began several generations ago. One day in the 1940s, when the quiet world of a small house in western Poland was interrupted by the loud entrance of a Nazi commando. They grabbed my grandfather, took him far away and never let him home again. My three-year-old dad sat in the lap of his nanny and watched as his security, his protector, his paragon of masculinity disappeared into the distance.
That’s how trauma is born, one that is passed down from generation to generation. I’m the third generation that lives with this trauma, sickness, fear, shame, and guilt. Identifying the trauma, understanding it, accepting my roots and my life’s path, finding healing— that all took me a very long time. And none of it was possible without a deep faith in God—a gift I did absolutely nothing to deserve. In 2017 I was 45. From that moment on I’ve been able to honestly say: I love my life.
I’ll share what is most important to me:
My faith in God, who is my loving, caring dad and my trust in Jesus—my friend through life and death, who leads me to Dad.
I share the insight that the body and physical health are unusual gifts from God that I can take care of myself.
I share the realization that trauma—harshness that brings us pain—is a meaningful part of life. And that life in all its colours and variety is the most precious gift from God.