Almost all smokers dismiss their habit as harmless. Even Orthodox believers often treat it as a slight, excusable fault they can carry with ease.
We have gathered a handful of accounts from people who came to see how each cigarette drew them away from God and sought His strength to break free from the grip of their craving. Discover how the Lord answered their prayers in our article.
Evgenia, a parishioner of an Orthodox church in Turin:
To me, quitting smoking was nothing short of a wonder. I am cut from the same cloth as Dmitri Karamazov — living at full tilt: all or nothing. I began at nineteen, and straight away smoked a pack a day — no more, no less. If I ran out of cigarettes, I would call a cab and we would scour the city centre for late-night stalls. I could not resist. I was a slave to this habit.
The only time I held back was from midnight before Communion. And just minutes after the service, I would slip outside the church fence and light up. My spiritual father knew. That was my boundary; I could not hold out a second longer.
Honesty with God matters deeply to me. I refuse to hide or pretend. So, I told Him straight: “Lord, I do not really want to quit, but I know I should — this is not something You approve of. Help me to want to stop.”
Soon after, I managed to go without cigarettes for three whole days before Communion. Quitting was not even on my mind — I just did it out of love for Christ. I wanted to fast so that smoke would not chase away my prayers. But I began lighting up again after Communion, already by Sunday evening.
One day, I did the same: I fasted before the Eucharist, waited until evening, reached for a cigarette, and found no appetite for it. The next day, I did not light up either — I simply did not feel like it. I told myself I would hold off until the craving hit hard, until it twisted me inside out as it always did. But it never came back.
To me, it was a miracle, like the parting of the Red Sea.
Ruslan Filippyonyok, head of the candle-making workshop at St Elisabeth Convent:
I started smoking in sixth form and kept at it for thirty years. I carried on even after joining the Church. At one point, I caught myself standing in church, thinking only about cigarettes. The Divine Liturgy was passing me by; all I could think about was getting through Communion, stepping outside, and having a smoke. Seeing this, I held back from Communion. I realised that when I smoked after Communion, I lost the Grace I had just received. If that was the case, I was not fit to partake.
At the next Liturgy, I went to Communion thinking just one thing: “Lord, set me free from this passion.” After Communion, I felt this Grace enter me and drive the sin out. It is a feeling I cannot put into words. I see it as a healing straight from above.
My friends were in church that day. After each service, we would gather outside to smoke before heading off for coffee. As always, they held out a cigarette to me, but I shook my head. “I no longer smoke — the Lord has set me free.” They laughed and said, “We will see.” And I have not smoked for nearly seven years now.
I often tell the brothers at the workshop: “This did not happen to someone two thousand years ago. This happened to me, right here. Walk this road yourselves. All it takes is a humble heart, a few honest tears, and a true desire to break free. Trust me, the Lord will lend His strength.”
Andrey Slabkov, gilder at the mosaic workshop:
Smoking had me in knots. I could not break free, no matter what I tried. Tablets, substitutes, electronic cigarettes — it made no difference. I always went back to smoking. At one time, I resolved to return to sports — I used to be an athlete. I swore I would limit myself to Saturdays only. From Monday onward I craved that one day like an addict, and soon I was puffing daily again. I felt helpless — the habit owned me.
A friend told me of a soldier who had fallen deep into drink, unable to pull himself out. He lost everything — his wife left, and he drank away all he had. He went to see a priest, who gave him this advice: “Do not try to stop drinking, but before each drink, read one chapter of the Gospel.” So he did. In time, the bottle lost its hold, his wife returned, and life fell back into place.
I thought I would give it a try. First thing in the morning, as any smoker would, I craved a cigarette. Instead, I reached for my phone, pulled up the Gospel, and read a chapter. For a while, the urge faded. That day, I read five chapters in total. The next morning, it was not that the desire had vanished — I simply forgot I even wanted to smoke. It was as if I had stepped back two decades, when tobacco never crossed my mind. I stepped outside — someone was smoking nearby, and the moment I pictured putting a cigarette to my lips, I felt sick. Just like that, the chains snapped. Family and friends were stunned.
People say, “Well done, you quit.” But I do not deserve praise; how could I have managed it? I had tried countless times! For me, this was God's own miracle.
Maria Kotova, journalist:
In eighth grade, after the summer holidays, everyone in my class smoked except for me and one other girl.
I had a best friend. Not long after the school year started, we went for a walk, and she taught me how to smoke. I did not like it at all. Yet I felt such awe for her; I wanted so much to be close to her that I got drawn in. From that year on, I became a smoker.
After ninth grade, I went on to college. All the liveliest conversations happened behind the building, wrapped in cigarette smoke. I did well in my studies, but to fit in and bond with the girls, I kept smoking, making the habit worse. We smoked heavily and skipped classes. I thought it made me cooler, more interesting.
At some point, I began to feel smoking was harming my health. I was going to the gym and running, and my breath grew short. I knew I should stop. Yet, nothing worked. At that time, I worked with a group of Azerbaijanis. For them, a woman smoking was a mark of low standing. I would hold off all day in front of them, but once at home, I would sit at the computer and smoke nearly a whole pack by nightfall.
At twenty-six I began attending church. Grace washed over me. There was a season where I would sit at home, embroider icons, listen to talks, and feel at peace.
I knew smoking was wrong and that I had to stop, but I could not do it on my own. I would resist for a time, only to give in again. As a newcomer to the faith, I simply typed “prayer to quit smoking” into a search engine, and the first thing that came up was a prayer to Saint Ambrose of Optina. At that moment, my faith and my longing for God were strong. I said that prayer once, honestly and with all my heart, and the next day I went to Communion. After that, it was as if the habit was cut off — I felt no urge to smoke. I shed the habit in a single day.
I messaged a friend who knew me well: “I have stopped smoking.” He replied, “We will see in a year.” It has now been ten years.
The same grace touched my husband. When we met, he was already a churchgoer: he went to services, took Communion, and worked at the monastery, but he still smoked. By then, I found the habit unpleasant. I told him about the prayer to Saint Ambrose of Optina, which had helped me. I gave him an icon of the saint and wrote the prayer out by hand on a nice piece of paper.
He took to reading it, and soon, each puff left him dizzy and light-headed. Through that prayer, he too gave up smoking. I am sure it was a miracle from God, for he had struggled alone for years, yet by the prayers of Saint Ambrose, he broke free.
Later, we travelled to Optina Monastery, attended a service when the relics of the saint were open, venerated them, and gave thanks — including for our healing.
Saint Ambrose of Optina
Venerable Father Ambrose, you who have boldness before the Lord, entreat the Great and Generous Master to grant me swift help in the struggle against this unclean passion.
Lord! By the prayers of Your faithful servant, Saint Ambrose, cleanse my lips, guard my heart, and fill it with the fragrance of Your Holy Spirit, so that the foul craving for tobacco may flee from me — far away, back to where it came from, the depths of hell. Amen
Prepared by Olga Demidyuk
Photos from the internet
