WAITING IN FAITH FOR THE THEOTOKOS: MY ELEVEN-HOUR TRIAL AMIDST A FEW FOOLS

June 5^th/6^th, 2026

A person's true measure in life often lies in how much injustice and untruth they can carry. A recent event, during which I spent eleven hours overnight waiting in line [04.06/05.06.2026] to venerate the Belt of the Most Holy Theotokos, brought me a great spiritual trial, but also deep reflection upon human nature.

In that line, where we all should have been gathered in peace, prayer, and humility, I experienced a series of incomprehensible provocations, shoving, and unpleasant comments from SEVERAL unknown individuals. Instead of the inner peace I sought, I found myself battling forced, intrusive thoughts and provocations that were clearly deliberate—the product of either profound misunderstanding or orchestrated lies circulating about me.

The only thing I cannot comprehend is what such people are seeking at a holy site. Were I in their place, I would tremble for my own fate and that of my loved ones if I caused malice to another out of nowhere, especially before the face of a shrine that expects something entirely different from us. In that crowd, I hold only those who acted in bad faith, with the goal of shaking my peace, responsible for such unworthy behavior. There a person could have truly felt who was who. Yet, there were moments of grace too, like the comforting presence of a girl from Zvezdara (or Borča), which was entirely pleasant.

I accepted all this suffering as my trial and a sacrifice I had to bear. I tried with all my might to control myself, to avoid falling for the provocations, and to preserve my dignity. It hurts when people condemn and attack you for no reason at all, but I believe that everyone ultimately carries their own cross and answers for their deeds.

I thank God and the Most Holy Theotokos for giving me the strength to remain calm, as well as to write this text now, which conveys my experience and thoughts in a dignified, Christian, and mature manner, without unnecessary bitterness and the vividness of bizarre details, so that my friends can understand what I went through.

 

MEĐU SVETINJOM I PONEKIM DEBILOM: JEDANAEST SATI MOG BOGORODIČINOG ISKUŠENJA

05.06 – 06.06.2026

Čovek se u životu često meri po tome koliko nepravde i neistine može da podnese. Skorašnji događaj, kada sam tokom noći jedanaest sati čekao u redu [ 04.06 / 05.06.2026 ] za poklonjenje pojasu Presvete Bogorodice, doneo mi je veliko duhovno iskušenje, ali i duboko razmišljanje o ljudima.

U tom redu, gde bi svi trebali da budemo okupljeni u miru, molitvi i poniznosti, doživeo sam niz neshvatljivih provokacija, gurkanja i neprijatnih komentara od strane NEKOLIKO nepoznatih ljudi. Umesto unutrašnjeg mira koji sam tražio, morao sam da se borim sa nametnutim, mučnim mislima i provokacijama koje su očigledno bile namerne — plod nekog dubokog nerazumevanja ili isceniranih laži koje kruže o meni.

Jedino što ne mogu da razumem jeste šta takvi ljudi traže na jednom svetom mestu. Da sam na njihovom mestu, strepeo bih za sudbinu svoju i svojih bližnjih ako iz čista mira nanosim pakost drugome, a posebno pred licem svetinje koja od nas očekuje nešto sasvim drugo. U toj masi, nedostojno ponašanje zameram isključivo onima koji su to radili u lošoj nameri, sa ciljem da uzdrmaju moj mir. Tamo je čovek zaista mogao da oseti ko je ko. Pa ipak, bilo je i lepih trenutaka blagodati, poput utešne blizine jedne simpatične devojke sa Zvezdare (ili iz Borče), koja je bila sasvim prijatna.

Sve ovo stradanje prihvatio sam kao svoje iskušenje i žrtvu koju moram da podnesem. Trudio sam se svim silama da iskontrolišem sebe, da ne nasednem na provokacije i da sačuvam dostojanstvo. Boli kada te ljudi bez ikakvog razloga osuđuju i napadaju, ali verujem da svako na kraju nosi svoj krst i odgovara za svoja dela, lično ili preko milih potomaka.

Hvala Bogu i Presvetoj Bogorodici što su mi dali snage da ostanem miran, kao i da napišem ovaj tekst koji na dostojanstven, hrišćanski i zreo način prenosi moje iskustvo i misli, bez suvišne gorčine i plastičnosti bizarnih detalja, kako bi moji prijatelji i poznanici razumeli kroz šta sam prošao.

 

THE COLD BLOW IN BELGRADE: How IKEA Ruined Art, Hygiene, and My Sanity

I am an art collector. I spend decades chasing pieces of history, buying memories, and curating beauty—like my priceless collection of vintage postcards. I don’t just buy things; I choose what they touch. So I went to IKEA Belgrade looking for Swedish precision, that clean, Western, cold-cut perfection. Instead, I walked straight into a Scorsese movie directed by a psychopath.

 

Let’s get the facts straight: The place is packed with high-tech cameras. They have my DNA through the IKEA Family card. I stood at the self-checkout, scanned every item with surgical precision to pay my dues. In the clean and honest way. To be done. 

 

Then, the floor guy steps in. Alas.

 

This guy didn't just walk over; he oozed distrust. He had these heavy, greasy, unwashed street-pigs for hands. Without a word, he lunges at my property. He rips my items away to re-scan them, his sweat-stained fingers digging straight inside the glasses and cups I am supposed to put my lips on. He handled the storage box meant for the crown jewel of my collection like he was wrapping raw meat in a back-alley butcher shop.

 

When he was done, the box was smeared. Greasy. It didn't feel like Swiss-designed plastic anymore; it felt like a dirty steering wheel of a stolen cab.

 

Now I’m home, looking at these glasses, and I feel a physical, deep-seated nausea. Drinking water from them feels like drinking straight out of a public toilet bowl. There is absolutely zero difference between buying brand-new items at this multi-billion-dollar establishment or picking them up from a muddy tarp at a feral flea market.

 

This wasn’t customer service. This was a psychological assault on my dignity. One low-life employee managed to turn a symbol of Western cleanliness into a hot, oily mess of pure disgust.

 

I don't just want a refund. I want the management to pull the tapes from those self-checkout cameras, look at what their staff is doing with their unwashed claws, and answer for this absolute violation.

 

 

SCANDAL AT IKEA BELGRADE: Gross Misconduct and Disgusting Hygiene Violations by Staff

As an art and memorabilia collector, I value care, cleanliness, and mutual respect. What I experienced at the IKEA store in Belgrade was an absolute disgrace to customer service and basic hygiene, leaving me completely disgusted.

 

The store is equipped with hundreds of cameras, and they have all my personal data via the IKEA Family card. Yet, this was not enough. After I properly and independently scanned every single item at the self-checkout, the employee monitoring the area aggressively interfered. With visibly dirty and greasy hands, he grabbed my scanned items to re-scan them, displaying blatant and insulting distrust.

 

To make matters worse, this worker literally shoved his dirty fingers inside the cups and glasses that my family and I are supposed to drink from! The storage box I bought to house my decades-old, valuable postcard collection was left smudged and feeling greasy, contaminated by his filthy hands.

 

This level of unhygienic behavior and audacity is unacceptable. The sense of disgust I feel looking at these items is indescribable—it feels like I bought them from the filthiest flea market rather than a store that brands itself as "clean and European." They completely ruined my day and the items I paid for.

 

I demand an immediate investigation by IKEA management, a review of the security cameras at the self-checkout, and a formal apology for this degrading treatment and destruction of property.