If there's one lesson that my father would constantly push down my throat every chance he got and punish me if I didn't swallow it, it'd be this one. To always have God involved. On the surface this is an excellent teaching, but it get's tiring and bothersome after you get it pushed down your throat every single day. Every single teaching that he told me, he'd accompany it with this one. Now, this doesn't mean I don't agree with it or take it as a useless teaching, no, otherwise I wouldn't be writing about it. I'm only telling you this so that I can humble my father a bit in this book as I don't want him to be seen as a God or deity.
Anyhow, in everything you do, you must have God involved. My father taught me that no matter what your goal in life is, no matter who you are, no matter what you are, if God isn't involved, it is totally and utterly futile. Now, I must admit that I don't follow this teaching at this current moment. I don't involve God in everything and before I continue teaching you, I'll give you a prime example of why you must have God involved in everything.
Now, if you can remember from the past chapter, I was in love with this girl named Fiona (for her privacy's sake I won't say her real name). Now, at this time I was incredibly religious and did in-fact include God in everything. Yet, I met her and saw her beautiful, grey eyes, her chubby, little nose and her round chin and fell in love. I talked to her almost everyday and I failed at following my father's other teaching; to never trust someone blindly at least. I gave her my entire heart and didn't once think about God. I avoided and dismissed all the red flags- not just the religious ones but also the logical red flags. I dismissed my father, my God, my family and my friends for her as I thought it'd be worth it in the end. My plan was to run away with her forever and never look back. If I am being honest, I had a deep resentment for my father as he never really approved of her (and a part of me still blames him for ruining the good times her and I had). However, every high eventually has its drop. All the ignored red flags eventually came back and lies on lies were discovered (along with her parents being rough). I tried to speak with her and resolve it but my trust, my ego was so hurt and betrayed that I couldn't bring myself to reason with her. I demanded her to have no privacy and be completely open and I kept trying to mould her into the girl I wanted her to be when all along she was a liar. Eventually, we broke up and I was dismantled. I was completely discombobulated. I cried every-night on my pillow mourning a girl which never existed, mourning a facade. And- to be completely open and genuine for the book's sake- I still do. If- only if- I had involved God in this relationship and noticed the red flags sooner, if only I had listened to my father more in depth and took his advice more seriously, then my pillows wouldn't be soaked every-night and my mind wouldn't be infected with these beautiful night terrors.
If there's one thing that'd I want you to absorb from this story, it's that anything that doesn't have God involved in is futile. No matter how hard you try to make it out to be something it isn't, it always fails. God has the power to change people, God has the power to make the impossible possible, he has the power to move a poor, violent, dirty family from the tip-top, pinnacle of shame of the village to the boot of gold of the village. Yes, my father attributes his transformation to God- and to his own strong, powerful, 'ambitious' will he says. He says that if it wasn't for God, we couldn't have survived in England. I won't go into exact detail into what this means but know that at a point in given time, we would've been forced to flee back to Romania but we never did and we stood our ground because my father had faith in God and involved him. My father tells me that if I don't involve God in my life then I'll find myself dead mentally and spiritually. He says that whenever there is no hope in doctors, in medications or in people, there's always hope in God. When my father had a falling out with his friends, he went to God. When I broke my arm as a child, he went to God. When my grandmother died, he went to God. And even now, when his mental health is deteriorating, he still chooses God. This doesn't mean he avoids doctors or medications, no in-fact he says that they are a tool of God. Anyhow, if my father could choose one teaching to keep out of the hundreds, he'd keep this one.
Now, as religiously passionate my father is, he is somewhat blind. As I'm sure you can tell, both me and my father have intense pride in ourselves and our family and we want to be 'better' than everyone else. Now, this isn't necessarily wrong however it is sinful. Our pride, in my opinion, will lead us to our demise and I understand it is contradictory to every teaching but I do want to be humble- in the sense that I don't always boast- but sometimes, I can't help but be proud of what I am. I know- not think or believe- I have this pride from my father. Since I was a child, my father idolized me as a 'golden son'- along with his constant pressure to be the best of course- and made me somewhat of a ruler over my siblings. To this day, I don't know if that was the right thing to do or not yet I am grateful he did so because even though I was a weak, fragile child, the fact he idolized me so much made me into the strong, slightly-older, person that I am now. He essentially planted a seed in me and it grew into pride. Now, here's the contradictory part. My father also planted a seed of faith. And intense pride and intense Christianity at the same time isn't the best thing. You see, instead of allowing one of the seeds to grow fully, they intertwine with each other and constantly battle, hence neither come out and grow fully. If I could choose between the two, I'd choose the faith seed- key word could- yet I can't, to this day I still choose my pride. And I must admit it is my father's fault. As grateful as I am for the things he made me, I am not grateful for the constant amount of religious pressure he put on me along with the pride he put on me and then expecting me to be a holy saint, completely disregarding the pride he instilled. However, the funny part is that when my pride acts up, he is proud! He is proud of my pride and disappointed in my faith!
Anyhow, the main point is to not be like me and my father- in this chapter specifically- never prioritize your pride- or any other emotion for that matter- over your faith. Faith and God always should come at place one and God should be in everything, and in everyone. He should take up the majority of our heart, not people like Fiona. Sure, yes, love people, make friends- be weary though as I have mentioned before- and connect yet never let any of these connections override your connection with God. Because unlike God, they'll all die and eventually lead to heart-break. However, God will never die and he will lead to life everlasting.