When the Eternal Whispered My Name: A Reflection from the Garden Within

Kateb-Nuri-Alim
Jun 12, 2025
5 min read

By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

Before time had a tongue or the stars found their voice, there was a whisper.

Not a sound you hear with ears, but one your soul remembers.

It moved like the hush of dawn across the chaos of nothingness and called everything into being.

It called light.

It called oceans.

It called breath into dust.

And then quietly it called me.

Not the me made of titles and timelines,

but the me made of spirit and stardust.

And in that moment, before I had ever achieved or failed,

before I had risen or fallen,

He loved me.

Unconditionally.

In spite of my scars, my wanderings, my flaws, my forgetting He loved me still.

That whisper was not a command.

It was an invitation.

To walk. To return. To remember.

That I am not an accident.

I am an echo of the Divine.

And so, I wandered inward,

past the ruins and roses of my life,

into the garden where His presence still dwells not distant, but near.

Not abstract, but intimate.

The Constant Forgiver I have fallen face-first into the mud of my own misjudgments more times than I can count. And yet, when I turned around no matter how long I stayed away He was there. Arms open. Eyes kind. Forgiveness pouring like rain into the drought of my soul. I didn’t earn it. I simply received it. Because He is not the shame I feared He is mercy in motion.

The Ever-Providing His provision isn’t just bread on the table. It’s peace in chaos. It’s a stranger’s smile. It’s strength when I’m too weak to ask for help. I’ve seen provision in a late-night phone call, in an idea that saved me, in a tear that led to clarity. He doesn’t only feed the body He nourishes the soul.

The Utterly Just He doesn’t ignore wrongs. He rights them in time. I’ve been silent when wronged. I’ve walked away instead of lashing out. And justice came not always as punishment, but as restoration. He brings hidden things to light. He dignifies the brokenhearted. He is the Judge who knows every layer of the story.

The All-Hearing When I couldn’t speak the ache, He heard the silence. When no one listened, He leaned in. My sigh was a psalm. My cry was a sacred chant. The world may tune me out, but He never does. He hears even what I don’t know how to say.

The Most Gentle His gentleness has healed more than sermons ever could. Like a soft breeze on a burning day. Like moonlight on an anxious mind. He doesn’t force change; He invites it. And in His gentleness, I bloom not out of fear, but out of love.

The All-Aware He knows every motive behind every mask. Every tear I hid behind a smile. Every reason behind every silence. He sees me fully my battles, my longing, my regrets and still chooses to stay. To be seen and still loved that is divine.

The Responsive, The Answerer I’ve cried into the dark, and answers came wrapped in daylight. Not always what I asked for, but always what I needed. A no that protected me. A wait that grew me. A yes that changed everything. He answers on holy time.

The All-Wise I have begged for things that would’ve broken me. I’ve prayed for shortcuts that would have cut off my growth. But He, in infinite wisdom, rerouted me toward the deeper road. I see now He was never withholding. He was preparing.

The Most Loving His love does not flinch when I’m weak. It doesn’t diminish with my doubt. It doesn’t turn cold when I wrestle. He loves me like the sea loves the shore relentlessly, rhythmically, eternally. And I don’t have to earn it. I only have to let it hold me.

The All Observing, The Witnessing When I forgave without being asked, when I served without applause, when I chose kindness over revenge He saw. And that’s enough. His witness is a balm. A reminder that nothing rooted in love goes unseen.

The Absolute Truth The world lied to me about who I was. But His truth shattered the mirrors that distorted my worth. His truth isn’t cold doctrine it’s warm revelation. And it tells me this: I am enough because I am His.

The Restorer, The Reinstater I once called myself broken beyond repair. But He called me worthy of rebuilding. He didn’t glue me back together; He recreated me. Stronger. Softer. Wiser. Not recycled renewed.

The Giver of Life ..Life is not just breath. It’s purpose. It’s awakening. He gave me life when I wanted to give up. Life when I was numb. Life when I was buried beneath old pain. Every sunrise is His heartbeat echoing: Live again, My beloved.

The Ever-Pardoning I’ve carried guilt like bricks in a backpack. But He never tired of lifting them off me. Over and over. His pardon is not exhaustion it’s delight. He wants me free. And He lets me begin again. Every single time.

The Avenger I don’t need to fight dirty. I don’t need to get even. He sees. He remembers. He defends not with vengeance, but with justice steeped in grace. He will right what was wronged without compromising my peace.

The All-Knowing, The Omniscient There’s nothing I’ve faced that caught Him off guard. No emotion He didn’t already anticipate. He knows what broke me. He knows what builds me. He knows the path I can’t yet see. And in that knowing, He still chooses me. Still walks with me. Still calls me good.

The Most Merciful His mercy is the sunrise that never skips a day. It reaches into my mess, into my confusion, into my constant needing. It doesn’t just forgive it lifts, it softens, it remakes. His mercy isn’t a moment. It’s the atmosphere I breathe.

The Patient I’ve run. I’ve resisted. I’ve rebelled. Yet He waited. Not in frustration, but in faithful love. He never slammed the door. He left it cracked open with a lamp glowing. He is patient with my process. Gentle with my becoming. And for that, I owe Him not just praise

but devotion.

So now, when I walk among trees and time,

When birds sing and rivers sigh,

When I laugh after weeping

I remember the Voice.

The one that first whispered my name before the world tried to rename me.