redpinemountain.com

For Alan

Alan, who writes a meaningful blog about his life, wrote in my comment section about his struggles with faith and asked me about my journey to God. I would love to be able to say I was a born believer and faith has been an integral part of my life since my childhood. But that’s not the way it worked for me.

I do not claim to be an expert on Christianity nor do I speak for any other Christian. This is my story, my personal relationship with Christ and how I came to find Him.

As a child, I regularly attended church. I heard in Sunday School all about God’s love and especially his love for his children. I was left cold.

I left home at the age and married at 18. My husband had also grown up in the church and faith was an integral part of his life. He attended church on Sunday and participated in church activities but I refused to be a part of it. Hypocrisy I thought. I proudly declared myself an atheist and thought anybody who believed otherwise was just ignorant.

I tested my kind and loving husband constantly. I was suspicious when he was affectionate, wary when he was kind. I always expected he had an ulterior motive because I couldn’t understand why he would want to be with me.

I developed an eating disorder and went into a profound depression. I tried therapy but the constant talk of my past left me paralyzed. I was worse.

I was desperate to find a way out of the pain which was my life. I had a wonderful husband, a secure marriage, why was I always trying to destroy the good that I had?

Because I had always been an avid reader, I decided to read the Bible. As I read the New Testament, I found beauty and peace. The life of Jesus Christ was one of goodness and compassion. I decided it couldn’t hurt to start each morning by talking to God, not prayer exactly but more of a conversation. I asked Him why over and over again he would let one of His children experience such pain. I didn’t get an answer.

My husband attended medical school on a military scholarship. It was the only way he could afford to attend school and when he graduated, we became part of the larger military family. Life in the military was an eye opener. I met men and women who sacrificed so much because they felt it was an honor to be part of something larger than themselves. I sat with wives whose husbands were deployed. These women struggled daily but they didn’t complain. They had pride in their lives.

I watched my husband thrive as he worked with soldiers and their families. I started to look outside myself and my small world of pain. My morning conversations with God were no longer focused on “why me” but instead the plight of others. My husband would tell me stories of his work; soldiers dying young, families torn apart by illness and my heart would ache.

I started to do volunteer work and learned that my life wasn’t so terrible after all. There were so many other people out there who had suffered much more than I had. My worries about my childhood seemed shallow.

My morning conversations with God now included thanks and my heart opened more.

My husband’s mandatory time in the military was at an end. He received many lucrative job offers. Oh, how those salaries sounded so wonderful. I had visions of new cars, a home of our own, and a life of ease. I was busy shopping in my head. My husband asked me if I would consider staying with the military. He believed he was called to service and wanted to continue serving our country and soldiers. There went my dreams of luxury. My morning prayer to God became a lament, “Why me? I want, I want, that was my refrain. God was silent or so I thought.

I was asked to chair a project working with pediatric patients. As I headed towards the hospital, I was filled with anger. “Why should I have to give up a life of comfort to stay in the military?” As I walked into the children’s wing, I was wrapped up in my own concerns. As I walked from bedside to bedside, getting to know the children of our soldiers, I wanted to cry. Here were children, facing illness without their parent’s presence and they weren’t complaining, they were enthusiastic and grateful. I left that day and told my husband that I would be proud to stay a part of our military family.

I prayed for my own child and my prayer was granted. I was moved by the miracle of life in my body. I wanted to be present for every moment of this new life and I was. Daily, I counted my son’s fingers and toes, marveled at his smiles and watched him grow. I attended all those school activities, hung his artwork on the wall, marveled at his accomplishments. My husband was there too. I continued my volunteer work and brought my son along with me. As I matured, I developed compassion and humility and thankfulness. I was no longer focused on the god of me. God’s beauty surrounded me in the small things, the seasons as they changed, the smell of a fire on a winter’s night, the smile of a child. My conversations with God deepened and I sang the praises of life.

A couple of years before my husband was killed, I started wondering about the afterlife. As I struggled with this concept, I had many deep conversations with my husband. Weekends would find us seated around the kitchen table as we got lost in discussions of my husband’s views on death and dying and his relationship with Christ.

We retired from active duty. My husband went into private practice but stayed in the reserves. We had a home of our own and a life that was comfortable. My son left for college and we embarked on a second honeymoon. My morning prayers were now filled with a joyous heart of thanks.

My husband was killed two short years later. After my initial shock, I became very angry and self pitying then depressed. I have written about how I turned to God on the night I contemplated suicide and how God answered my prayers.

Time does heal all wounds and as I started to reflect on my husband’s death, I saw God’s hand all around me. My wonderful husband with his dedication to service was brought into my life at a time when I was barely able to cope. Through his leadership by example, I was able to look outside myself and think about others.

I was given a child as well, a child who brought so much beauty to our lives and who gave me another chance at a loving childhood through him.

To me, it is not coincidence that my husband and I had all these discussions about death so close to his dying. When my husband was killed, I knew he believed his spirit would remain eternal at God’s side and I drew great comfort from that.

Recovering from loss is never a straight line. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t silently speak to my husband but the pain is no longer raw. My husband lived a wonderful life, he became a doctor and used that skill to help others. He drew me into his world, sometimes kicking and screaming, but he taught me to live outside myself.

I feel so strongly there is a Divine Plan to our lives. We have free will, yes, and we make choices, both good and bad, yes, but if we open our hearts and open our minds and let the presence of God fill us with his strength and beauty, we will find Him. Death is always part of life. We who are left behind struggle to find a meaning to our loss. But the more we try to find meaning in death, the more we will become lost. We must live our lives to the fullest each day, not squander our short time here on earth because life is such a valuable gift. We are here to make a difference.

To wake up every morning and to give thanks as you rise to me is key. Even when life is at it’s lowest point, there is always something to be thankful for. Find that one thing even if it is infinitesimal and be thankful for that and let God know you are grateful. As you go about your days, are you judgmental, harsh, critical? If so, you are closing your heart to God. Think about your fellow man and embrace him as a child of God. Practice small random acts of kindness, anonymous acts of charity and your heart will open even more.

Give of your time, live beyond yourself and your problems. Let your life be a testament to beauty and you will find God. Faith is a journey, a daily maturation and like all relationships, sometimes it is rocky. I believe if we follow Jesus Christ’s example of a life of service and “selflessness” dedicated to living beyond our personal wants, we will find beauty in faith.

Alan, I don’t know if that helped or if it was the answer you were looking for. I could go on and on about the many small miracles that occur in my life daily. I could point you to the verses in the Bible that have given me so much strength. It’s never easy to let go and just believe. If you make small steps every day towards any goal, eventually you will arrive at your destination. I have so much admiration for you Alan and how you have coped with your problems. Just the fact that you are questioning and seeking answers is in itself a testament to your faith.