The Reflection of My Journey: A Life Between Reality and Faith

The Reflection of My Journey: A Life Between Reality and Faith

By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched Life of Pi. At least three times a week. And every single time, I walk away with something new some hidden meaning, some truth I hadn’t caught before. It’s one of those stories that sticks with you, not just because of its beauty but because it forces you to ask yourself: How do I see the world? Through pain? Through faith? Through a mixture of both?

Pi’s story is about survival, but it’s also about choice. He’s stranded, alone in the middle of the ocean, left with nothing but his will to live and his faith in the unseen. And isn’t that life? The struggle between what we can touch and what we believe in? Between what we see and what we know deep in our souls? His journey reminds me of my own not on a raft in the middle of nowhere, but on the unpredictable waves of life itself.

The Creator gifted me something precious: the ability to write. Not just to tell stories, but to reflect, to connect, to find meaning in the chaos. Writing has been my lifeline, my way of making sense of the struggles, the setbacks, the moments that could have broken me. Like Pi, I could have focused on the storms, on the loneliness, on the times when life felt like it was swallowing me whole. But I choose to see the Creator’s hand in everything. Where others see suffering, I see lessons. Where some feel abandoned, I find proof that I was never alone to begin with.

But I didn’t come to this understanding on my own. My grandmother, Celestine, shaped the way I see the world. She didn’t just talk about faith she lived it. She didn’t just teach me about love she embodied it. She was my lighthouse, the one who made sure I never drifted too far, who kept my feet steady when life tried to pull me under. She showed me that faith isn’t just about believing it’s about knowing. And when you know something deep in your soul, nothing can shake it.

I remember the days by her side, listening, learning, absorbing everything she poured into me. She taught me to see the Creator in the smallest details the wind carrying laughter, the water that gives life, the struggles that shape us. If Life of Pi taught me that survival is a choice, my grandmother taught me what to choose. And because of her, I choose faith. I choose love. I choose to use my words to build bridges between pain and healing, between doubt and trust, between the seen and the unseen.

I’ve grown. I’m not the same person I used to be. Time has changed me, humbled me, reminded me that life is fleeting. One blink, and it could all be over. One breath, and I’ll stand before my Creator, with nothing to hide behind. And I know He sees it all every choice, every action, every moment I spent using my gift or wasting it. My grandmother used to say, “There isn’t a single leaf that falls without Him knowing.” That thought stays with me. If He knows every leaf, He surely knows me.

So, I write. I share. I reflect. Not for praise, not for recognition, but because I have to. Because the Creator placed this in me, and ignoring it would be like ignoring my very purpose. Like Pi’s story, my words will live on, carrying whispers of truth, of hope, of something greater than myself. And maybe just maybe someone else will read them and see the Creator’s hand in their own life, just as I have.

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All that the island gives

us by day, it takes

away again by night...

Ponder that....

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We are so close to deliverance, don’t get afraid now and drown in shallow water.