Even though this is only my second post on Midwest Mom, I have already felt the tug to come here and complain. I have resisted the urge and today as I sit down, I am so excited! Why? Well, because some other blogger moms (Kelly’s Korner and Blue Eyed Bride) have tagged this day as a day to encourage each other and turn outward instead of inward.
Today’s topic…faith. I am the first to say that my faith is a bumpy, stumbly road with way too many potholes. I feel like a failure at faith sometimes…okay almost all the time. I know, I know, a bit of a downer, especially when this is supposed to be encouraging (just stick with me).
I lost my faith when I was really young. I grew up in the Catholic church, went to church every Sunday and mid-week catechism. But, it was just going through the motions. I said my prayers every night and always would pray about my grandparents, with a selfish child-like little add on of “Please let my Grandma be the last one to die, because I love her the most”. I didn’t own my faith. God didn’t seem real to me. I figured he was out there but I didn’t think he was…present. And then my faith took a dive.
My grandma died.
As far as I was concerned, God killed my grandma. How could he?! How could he specifically kill my grandma after I prayed he would let her die last!?!
I was mad. I was sad. I just couldn’t justify this in my brain. My parents tried to help me understand but it just didn’t help. God was dead to me. I hated him.
Years passed. We stopped going to church as a family. I prayed out of habit but with no gumption or belief behind it.
Then my junior year of high school came and I met my now husband. We started talking etc…(I’ll post more about meeting D later) and he asked me to come to church with him. I wasn’t sure about it. Church seemed fake and God wasn’t going to listen to me anyway, so what was the point?
The point was that God had been with me everyday since the day my grandma died. He had been placing every person in my life to get me to that Sunday when I walked in with D and felt Him again. I literally felt Him. I walked into that sanctuary and knew immediately that He was there with open arms and always had been, waiting for me to run into them again.
So, when I hit those bumps, those doubts, those “Why me? What’s the point?” moments, I remember the feeling of open arms and how God is right there ready to give me the biggest bear hug ever.
So, whats your stumbly, bumbly, doubt-filled story that brings your faith to life and gives you an anchor to God?