Kurima Sinda

I don't know exactly what that means, but it is the origin of this idea of this letter. The main message is "God Is with Me Until I’m with God"

The holy month of Ramadan is a time when everything slows down, yet the heart feels more awake than ever. The rhythm of life shifts—days begin in the stillness before dawn, with whispered prayers and quiet reflections over a pre-fast (Sahoor) meal.

Hunger and thirst are not just physical; they serve as reminders of our deeper needs, our longing for something greater than what the world can offer.

As the sun sets and we break our fast, there's a fleeting but profound sense of peace—a moment where gratitude feels tangible. It is in this sacred cycle that faith feels most real, most present.

But outside of Ramadan, outside of those moments of heightened spirituality, faith can sometimes feel like a distant light, flickering somewhere just beyond reach.

Life moves fast, responsibilities pile up, and the clarity we once felt starts to blur. Yet, in those moments of doubt or exhaustion, I remind myself: God is with me until I’m with God.

I first came across this phrase on the Instagram page of a musical artist, Priesst (@iampriesst). Even though I don’t know its full origin, it immediately resonated with me. It carries a weight that is both comforting and humbling.

I haven’t had the time to listen to his project in full, but the snippets on his page feel like echoes of a soul searching, questioning, and believing all at once. His words struck something within me—a reminder that no matter where I am, no matter how lost or found I feel, God is near.

I hope he finds all that he seeks, and I hope the world gets to know him soon enough. Some messages are too powerful to stay unheard. If you’re curious about the artist and the depth of his work, you can check out Priesst’s latest project here: Kurima. His music carries a certain honesty—one that lingers long after you’ve listened.

The phrase “God is with me until I’m with God” is nothing about faith. At first glance, it means something like throughout the course of my existence and beyond, I have God on my side.

It speaks to life itself. It reminds me that even when I falter, even when I question, even when I feel unworthy of grace, I am not abandoned. It reminds me that every step, every stumble, and every moment of clarity is leading somewhere meaningful. It means that I am guided, even when I don’t see the path clearly.

And perhaps, it also speaks to patience—the patience to trust that things will unfold as they are meant to. The patience to wait for answers that haven’t yet arrived. The patience to believe that the work we put in, the kindness we offer, the faith we hold onto—it all matters.

So as I move through this life—making mistakes, trying to be better, seeking clarity in the unknown—I hold on to this truth: God is with me until I’m with God. And for now, that is enough.

And as I continue carrying my uncertainties, my hopes, and my prayers, I hold onto this: I am never alone. And neither are you.

May we all find peace in that certainty.

With reflection,
Mustapha