Tji's Parables Reframe God as the Ultimate Companion in Crisis

A whimsical yet profound collection of dreamscape dialogues confronts mortality, self-worth, and surrender with disarming warmth.

When Tji found himself grieving his father's death while stranded alone in a foreign country, he did not reach for certainty. He reached for conversation. The result is God Made Me from Spare Parts, a collection of thirty surreal, bite-sized parables in which a desperate narrator meets God in dreams and discovers something unexpected: the divine is not a judge, but a companion just as baffled by the human condition as the rest of us. In a cultural moment when loneliness has been declared a public health crisis, this book arrives as something rarer than theology: genuine company.

Each parable in God Made Me from Spare Parts drops the narrator into a fresh predicament. He stands on a ledge, drowning in rough seas, trapped in a hole, or sitting on death row for a crime he did not commit. God shows up every time, but never quite the way you expect. He keeps the drowning man company rather than pulling him out. He admits to crashing the world himself when he was young. He eats steak with a knife and fork while the narrator stubbornly starves over chopsticks, then shrugs and suggests using bare hands before the meal goes cold.

The book's emotional core arrives in "Mourning a Loved One," where the narrator watches his devoted father die in a hospital bed and demands to know why God took him too soon. God's answer quietly dismantles the architecture of grief: "I don't take people before their time. In life you have a body, then you die and you become everybody." It is the kind of line that stops a reader mid-breath, and Tji earns it because the loss behind it is real.

The parables move with the rhythm of a mind working through pain in real time, cycling from fear of an unfinished life to the terror of wasted years to the slow, hard-won acceptance that destiny is written in water-based ink and may be rewritten by morning dew. The humor is never a deflection; it is the delivery mechanism for truths too sharp to hand over directly. When the narrator's head swells from judging others, God laughs and reminds him that "judgment is a boomerang disguised as a stone."

The book closes where it began: with vulnerability. Finding and losing a soulmate, the narrator complains that true love is harder to locate than a needle in a haystack. God agrees the needle can be found, but not without giving a drop of blood first. That image, small and precise and a little painful, is the book's final promise: connection costs something, and it is worth every cent.

Tji is a writer, filmmaker, and conceptual artist born in Argentina, raised in Australia, and based in Egypt. His work explores the intersection of creativity, spirituality, and human experience.

After gaining recognition in the arts, Tji’s journey took a detour into the healing arts during an extended period in Egypt, where he served desert communities and supported countless people seeking physical and spiritual renewal. Today, he has returned to writing with renewed purpose, using his global life experience and unique insights to inspire transformation, meaning, and self-discovery.

God Made Me from Spare Parts is now available in three formats: eBook, soft cover and hard cover.