About Lilprep

Pt. 1 The Fatal Problems

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

Genesis 1:3 is undoubtedly the most powerful verse in the Bible — the one above all others.

What people often fail to notice is—God’s creation was realized through words and speech. He created light through His language.

That means light itself was created by language. In this sense, language — as the vessel that holds God’s will — is even more fundamental than light.

And God endowed humanity with the ability to use language to lift their eyes and pray and question Him; He also used a Bible to carry His revelation, leading us to contemplate truth.

Language and writing are humanity’s nobility and the core of civilization.

For the past millennia, humanity has conversed with truth through prayer and soliloquy: From the Jewish Psalms to the prophetic writings and Ecclesiastes, these are all soliloquies of the soul facing truth directly.

In the history of Western thought, the most valuable writings of the thinkers who are remembered are not their professional treatises, but rather Meditations, Thoughts, Essays, Dialogues, and so on. The depth of human thought comes precisely from this posture of vertical dialogue with truth, which is why the West, with its Hebrew faith at its core, became a prophetic civilization for humanity.

By contrast, while Chinese culture built on dialogue at first, it was cut off violently.

In Chinese history, the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods were the most brilliant era of thought and culture, and the sayings of the various schools of thought laid the foundation for Chinese culture. However, when Qin Shi Huang violently conquered the states, the first thing he did was to impersonate God, and the second thing was to burn books and bury scholars alive. This phenomenon has persisted for two thousand two hundred years, and it is no different today.

This is why this country has long been trapped in tragic ignorance and barbarism.

However, modernity has blurred the distinction between civilization and barbarism. Whether in the East or the West, the unified style of modern people has become the sorting of documents, logical deduction, and theoretical construction. People no longer speak to truth but rather boast to others about their grasp of truth. This state of losing the sense of dialogue and personhood with truth is not just a change in the form of discourse but a change in spiritual standing.

This is why people of this era are enslaved by the worship of individualistic free will and instrumental rationality.

Tragically, Christians who claim to love God’s Word have been vying for discourse power with the World in this linguistic degradation. However, our ability to think and build has stagnated—compared to the Christians of the Patristic Era or the Reformation and the Puritan period, Christians today are too shallow and lazy.

We no longer quietly use language to contemplate truth, nor do we use language to truly know ourselves.

We are rarely quiet enough to write our true praises,

Even less do we feel able to write words of confession when facing shame and sin,

And even less so, in pain, do we hold onto reverence and write laments without breaking,

As for contemplative writing—almost only a very few believers and pastors continue to practice it.

Modern faith culture has marginalized these literary forms. We do pray, sing gospel songs, and study the Bible; many believers also read devotional texts, key verses, and theological excerpts, write short notes of gratitude, and share superficial group sharings lacking linguistic depth. Faith education pays more attention to the knowledge structure and the shaping of leaders, and online faith content is mainly about “testimonies,” “debates,” and “aesthetic graphics”…

But this is a different world from writing hymns, confessions, laments, and meditations.

Almost no spiritual tradition encourages us to continuously write these kinds of “inward sacred literary forms” anymore. In other words, modern spiritual traditions do not truly encourage believers to practice the “intimate exposure of the soul to God” and do not teach the “ability of the soul to respond honestly to truth.” Once these literary forms are separated from training, reading, and contemplative traditions, they easily become “things no one teaches or requires”…

Maybe the most urgent work we need to undertake is no longer evangelism or apologetics, but rather the effort to return to a state of direct dialogue with God—to once again practice the reflection and writing of the sacred literary forms.

If such work does not flourish again, then all our efforts will be focused solely on changing the external world, while the inner world that inevitably exists within each of us will grow increasingly barren and corrupted…

However, this kind of literary form is the instinct of my soul.

Pt. 2 Why Me?

I was born in a backward and closed small city in inland China, a place where the Gospel could not be heard. When I was around seven, one day I sneaked into a dilapidated small church behind a fence near a hospital.

It was built by missionaries more than a hundred years ago, occupied by the government, and never open. But on that day I passed by, the iron gate was unlocked.

From the paintings hanging on the wall, I learned about the Gospel for the first time. I liked that place very much and sat on the dusty benches for a long time.

I don’t remember exactly how I learned the doctrines. But my diary entries after the age of ten began to include thoughts on death, Jesus, and the cross. That was also the age when I started using the internet.

Around the age of 13, after each of us students was forced to write the application letter for joining the Communist Youth League, I began to have a sense of faith, but I was very clear that it was not the communist faith spoken of by the League—it was the faith spoken of by Christianity.

From then on, I always used my immature faith to examine my family, school, and hometown, and to reflect on my various experiences.

And I always did so through honest writing.

In those years I was often listening to sacred music, reading Christian literature, writing journals, and praying — these became my daily refuge. In a barren land of faith, languages like prayer and soliloquy shaped the structure of my soul.

At the age of 18, I left home to study at a university in another province, where I encountered other living Christians for the first time, participated in fellowship activities for the first time, and owned a Bible for the first time.

But I couldn’t accept religion and gave it up not long after. Young, ignorant, and reckless, I said my last prayer and said goodbye to God.

After that, I quickly developed complex-PTSD, lost myself in constant anxiety and dissociation, and also forgot God.

Next, my life seemed to be all about mathematics, physics, chemistry books or scientific research papers, and after work, it was all kinds of jargon, as well as IT, architecture, projects, and data.

During that decade, my soul froze. My writing disappeared under the weight of trauma and my thoughts were scattered across work and survival.

But I kept reading and thinking, and even posted lengthy thoughts on social media from time to time… Although now it seems that those almost pollutant texts were me abusing my language skills.

Later, I gradually returned to Christian faith from the world, as I finally became certain that only Jesus could give me a complete worldview and values. At the age of 29, I started writing about Christianity again, but it could only be considered a re-processing of previous people’s views.

For a long time, I was re-processing the views of others, although it looked very original.

Until January 2024, I re-read the Bible, trying to converse with God. In February, I began a nearly head-on-the-wall repentance, and finally wrote words that could bear spiritual weight.

Since then, writing has become my personal spiritual discipline, but I have only written a large number of cultural and theological viewpoints and have never valued my writing ability itself.

It wasn’t until the beginning of 2025 that I began serious narrative writing.

Soon after, my dissociated childhood memories and sense of self were completely restored, and I finally began to realize who I really was. And from the article recording that experience, I began to understand the charm of spiritual narrative writing: the supernatural sovereignty of God and the tension of human nature in real events.

Since then, God has lifted me up rapidly, and my spiritual life has grown explosively in a rare density. He gave me revelation, forcing me to re-examine the weight of my soul and align it with His will.

I examined myself with extreme rigor, until I had to admit and submit—

I am a vessel carefully constructed by God to preserve spiritual language and writing.

Pt. 3 My Vision

I wrote this calling one month after my 31st birthday. Within that month, my first four 2025 journal entries had all been completed, and this was my fifth — my declaration of calling.

I don’t know where God’s entrustment to me will ultimately lead, or how broad its panorama will be, because I am still very young. And I know that what God wants is not an “executor” but a daughter who works with Him and matures gradually in love.

I also know that what I must guard is no longer a personal spiritual practice but a whole set of linguistic styles and spiritual postures for conversing with God:

The sense of space in lament—not seeking answers, only faithfully weeping;

The sense of self in confession—acknowledging brokenness without self-pity;

The sense of contrast in contemplation—thoughts often accompanied by God’s response;

The sense of looking up in hymn—the soul truly looking up without self-complacence.

That is how I became a full-time writer, a narrator who responds to God’s call in writing.

And I will use every word I write to tell you: this sacred language still exists — you can learn it again.

Let the real us, in real words, reconnect with the real God—in this generation, let His glory seep out from our pens once more.