Questioning Faith

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I was six years old one summer evening in 1987 when I stepped out of my pew and made my way to the front of my childhood church. I nervously stepped out to pray with the guest preacher that evening, he also happened to be nearly six feet tall. I don’t remember much about the message that finally spurred me out of my seat that evening, but I do remember the clicking sound my purple flip-flops made as I walked past the pews full of parishioners. I remember how my heart told me there was something I needed to do. I could no longer silence a stirring within my little heart and that urge could only be met with a simple prayer. So there I stood with a preacher who could barely bend down far enough for me to whisper my request in his ear. I wanted to open my heart up to God and follow him the rest of my life.

Despite my age, I changed that night. I finally answered the call God had been placing upon my heart, a unique calling that is hard to describe. I can only describe it in a single word that shouts from within. It says “Move!”. It was a move that only I could make, a move that declared I’d live my life for God. In obedience to scripture, I was baptized a few weeks later.

I was baptised in June. I wore a blue button down shirt with crayons on it. I was to dress down as I was to be submerged in the baptismal. Although I was quite young, I remember the feeling following my baptism. As I emerged from those waters, that old shirt no longer felt tattered, and neither did I. I felt clean, I felt peace and a renewed desire to change. As I rode back from my baptism, I thought about all the ways I could change for the better, or as much as a six year old could change.  It sounds a bit unreal for a little girl to feel such things, but I assure you they were real. Maybe that’s why I have such a clear memory of it almost 30 years later.

I made a commitment to God at a young age but it didn’t save me from making many mistakes in my lifetime. Mistakes are why I needed God, why I wanted to be saved. I understood that I was imperfect and there would be times when I would need forgiveness and I wanted to follow a God who understood my imperfections. I decided to follow a God who I was taught not only created us, but lived among us and personally understood the hardships of the human existence.  I have known for almost 30 years that I didn’t have to face the tribulations of life alone, I felt the God of the universe cared for someone as small and flawed as me.

With such a longstanding relationship with God, it has been hard for to me admit when my faith has faltered. Questioning my relationship with God and, His very existence, may seem like a big failure as a Christian but to me it has been a necessary part of my faith journey. In recent years I have asked the same questions I did before I took that walk before the church at the age of six. Health and financial issues of my own and those around me have made me realize I didn’t have the unwavering faith I thought I had. I started to think deeply about what it was I claimed to believe. I became scared when I did not understand things beyond my comprehension. I wondered how a God who was supposed to care for me so intimately could allow me to experience such suffering. I was becoming more angry and questioning what I believed down to the very existence of God.

Were my questions a symptom of a weak faith? What good could come from questioning a faith that has carried me through many difficult times since the day I walked to the front of the church on that summer evening? Some may say it’s because my faith is weak but I dare to believe that the deepest of convictions come when they are questioned, examined, and re-examined. What is a blind faith that is never re-examined, especially in difficult times? Questioning my beliefs would either solidify what I believed to be true or it would fall apart under the weight of the pressure.

Christianity believes that Jesus is God who came to earth to live as a human. He was one percent human and one hundred percent God. He felt the same human emotion as we do while having the diety of God. He had the full human experience and a frightening human death. He felt joy and happiness. He experienced great fear and loss. Knowing these things, I asked him to show me the meaning of my own suffering but before I could utter the words from my heart to my mouth, I saw Christ praying in the garden before he was arrested. I saw his agony over the death he knew was before him and there is no doubt he also knew of the torture he would endure. I saw him on his hands and knees, pleading for the cup to be passed from him as he sweat his own blood. He was physically manifesting symptoms of his internal struggle. He lived and understands by experience. When I accepted Christ, I accepted that he didn’t blindly ask me to suffer. He did it himself. He was born into this world and immersed himself in life. He was here and he understands. He suffered more than I could ever imagine. He was arrested, beaten, and crucified. I remember then the feeling I had when I decided to follow God at such a young age, I knew he loved me because he knew me. He was gracious enough to give me life but he never promised a life without strife, as he himself was not exempt. He promised to be with me always and he hadn’t broke that promise, I just forgot it.

In the last few weeks, my life has quite possibly become more difficult as my body is continuing  to experience widespread pain and my son’s seizures continue to increase, making neurosurgery look like the last, best hope but God has renewed so much in me. He answered my prayers. What was his answer? “Keep questioning.” What a wonderful response! So I am picking up my Bible, books, praying and asking questions. I am renewing my faith through questioning my own beliefs. Doubt made me search and through that search, I renewed my relationship with God. It is a relationship that gives my life purpose, even my suffering.

So I challenge you to do the same. Question why you follow your own personal convictions. Once you examine your beliefs, ask if those convictions make sense and bring you contentment. If your beliefs ask you to follow blindly, I’d question them even more. What good is an unexamined life? Take a chance and ask the hard questions. I guarantee if you are looking in the right place, those questions won’t be too hard to find.

*d*

Love is Stronger Than Pain

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I was thinking about what Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) has taken from me today. It has taken many things; my peace of mind, health, mobility, strength, and much more. It has been hard to accept that just a couple years ago I didn’t have to worry so much about my own health, the peace of mind about being able to take care of my own children was secure, and I knew I had the physical and emotional strength to take on whatever life threw at me. Now most of my day is centered around pain. I ask, if I stretch, exercise, or take the right medication or supplements, can I relieve this pain? But the day usually begins and ends the same, in pain.

I am certain I can handle what the disease takes from me, what I don’t like is what it takes from my kids. Above, I posted a picture of me holding my youngest daughter. She is our surprise baby; you know, that baby who comes along and yells “surprise” a week before a scheduled hysterectomy. My husband and I determined we were finished having children and I needed to have the surgery to take care of some health issues that have plagued me for many years. These problems were so disruptive, we are lucky to have even one child, we have four. When our youngest snuck in under the radar we were very excited. We were shocked and thrilled when we finally conceived our first and every child thereafter was equally, maybe even more exciting.

I think I do alright as a mom. I love and have loved every stage of their lives thus far, but I especially love the toddler years. I personally think too many people focus on the possible tantrums or stubborn nature of a toddler and miss all the incredible things they are learning and accomplishing in the first short years of their lives. I was always the proud mom to carry her babies around on my hip. The first three were glued to my hip as long as they’d allow me to pick them up and put them there. Unfortunately for my fourth, she hasn’t had the same. I am unable to pick her up, let alone carry her like I could with my other children and that just makes me mad. She is frequently raising her arms to me and saying, “up” and I have to say, “Sorry baby, mommy can’t pick you up right now”. Yes, I know I can find other ways to pick her up and I know it isn’t a necessity but I want to do it! I hate that my RA has taken this simple joy from me. I have accepted and smiled through many things that have spewed into my life but I am neither going to smile or accept this one.

As you can see, I try to pick her up as much as I can, pain or no pain and I often try to take a picture. I want to remember that I was blessed to have had babies on my hip. I am privileged to raise my children and I will keep doing my best despite what this awful disease does to me. I will pick them up (try to put them on my hip), hug them, kiss them, and smile at them, even if the entire day is experienced in pain. When I think hard about it, my life isn’t about me, it’s about who I have been gifted to love. The love of a child is far more powerful than any pain some awful disease tries to throw at me.

*d*

Five Things Children May Want to Tell Their Parents About What They Really Need

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Praise me.
Spend more time praising me when I do something right rather than solely scolding me when I do something wrong. Praising me when I do well teaches me that you are paying attention. I learn that positive choices mean positive results and I have the ability to make others happy by my good choices.

Let me spend time independently.
Don’t hover over me. Let me wander around a safe environment. I need to learn that I can do things on my own and feel the accomplishment of doing things independently.

Allow me to fail.
I need to know life isn’t always fair. I know you love me but let me fail so I can learn to try again and not give up. I will grow faster than you realize and I need to be able to graciously accept defeat when necessary and know failing isn’t the worst thing that can happen to me.

Remind me that you are looking out for me.
Remind me to zip up my coat, clean my room, and do my chores. Keep after me because I expect you to. Be my parent first and then my friend. I will have a lot of friends in my childhood years but you will be my longest friend, just give me time to grow and realize it.

Love me.
Make sure I know you love me, even when I fail, refuse to listen, or disappoint you. I’m not perfect. I will never be perfect but your love for me through anything feels pretty perfect.

*d*

Insurance Rant

I want to discuss a growing problem for many who care of or live with chronic illness. This is a growing issue that poses a particular problem with those who require on-going medical care, but it is effecting a large number of people.

I have Rheumatoid Arthritis. I was diagnosed in December of 2014. I began treatment after my initial appointment with a rheumatologist in April of 2015. Within this last year I have started therapy with multiple medications to help control the disease and slow the destruction of my joints. Unfortunately, the time required to wait for my initial rheumatologist appointment and the severity of my disease had already destroyed multiple joints to the point of needing multiple surgeries. Disheartening still is realizing at the end of 2015, I would no longer be able to afford my healthcare, with insurance.

I’m not the only one. In a recent thread on social media, a friend shared about how upset she was about the $800 bill she received from one test to a recent trip to the children’s hospital with her daughter. This sparred a conversation with numerous other people who were experiencing the same thing. All those responding had insurance with high deductible plans. The families and their employers are paying premiums for plans that don’t pay anything until a deductible of several thousand dollars is met. This is sadly becoming the norm for families like mine that live on a limited budget and don’t have the money to meet the financial burden required to use the health care system.

I have a disabled child and I have a chronic illness. Thankfully our state offers assistance to children with medical handicaps that helps assure my son doesn’t go without the medication he needs, but the system isn’t perfect. Social security and insurance isn’t automatically provided to underage children with disabilities. Many times the only coverage is through private insurance. I can recall many of our own horror stories as well as those of other parents with special needs children who have had to fight with insurance only to run out of medication for our children. It isn’t right.

I spent the better part of December wondering how I was going to continue my medical care. We have since received generous help from friends who helped meet some of our financial needs, but we still don’t have enough money to pay for the necessary doctor’s appointments and medication I require. Now we have to see if my doctor’s will work out payment plans, see me less often, and reduce my medications to help me try to meet the financial demands of my illness and those of our family.

I guarantee many people are lying in bed with the same worry, how can I afford to pay for my care and still buy groceries or pay my mortgage? I know because I’ve talked with them. Parents are sick over the large bill they received because their child had an unexpected visit to the hospital, the caregiver to an aging parent is worried because they have to figure out how to pay mom or dad’s mortgage while they spend time at a nursing home in rehab, or a parent of a child with severe epilepsy is crying because insurance is using every last tactic to stop shipment on the only medication keeping their child seizure free. How is any of this okay? Is anyone else ready to speak out about this? I hope so because no one should ever have to compromise their health care but sadly this is happening every day.

*d*

Finding Your Perfection

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Today I watched you stand in front of your mirror, your face barely reaching above the top of the dresser – in one hand you hold your plastic curling iron, pretending to fix your long, dark hair for whatever pretend adventure you and your baby sister have planned for today. I know you both will grow up way too fast. I imagine you both crowding in that same mirror that will someday be too small for both of you to use. One day you will have no use for the plastic curling iron and pretend makeup you adore now. You will leave it and your childhood behind. Soon, you will quietly whisper about the boy or boys you are preparing to see. I know one day you may not want to tell me about your dates, and especially the young men that await you, but I’ll still be there, even if I’m still just watching you from the doorway.

Right now a young man can be anything you imagine. He can be as handsome and brave as one in a functional movie, but someday the choices of whom you will want to be with will be more complicated than you realize. I want talk to you about when you give your heart to another person. Your heart is beautiful and precious. I can only hope that you know exactly what you deserve. You won’t learn the majority of it from me, you will learn the most about men from the most important man in your life right now, your dad. I hope when you decide to date, you are willing to wait for someone who is as wonderful as your father.

I had a hard road before I met the man that I’d love forever. Once we met, it didn’t take me long to fall in love with him. It isn’t hard to love your dad, he has a generous smile and a warm personality. Of course, I thought he was the most handsome man I had met but it wasn’t just those things that made me fall in love with him. It was also his generosity, his willingness to give of himself selflessly, and his big, big heart. When we were together, it was like I found a missing part of myself, the best piece of myself. I knew quite soon he and I were supposed to be together.

When he and I met, dated, and fell in love, he demonstrated qualities that assured me he was a trustworthy man. His actions defined him as a man and who he would be as my husband. I was his equal, his partner, and I never worried about what he would do once he held my heart. He didn’t just compliment me, he helped build my confidence. He didn’t just talk with me, he had a genuine interest in me. This is all important because when the time comes, you will want to know if you are with someone who is just as interested in you as he is himself. You will know the relationship will last through the best and worst times because he made time to know you and hopefully you will have done the same. All of this is important because bad times in a relationship will inevitably come. If what is supposed to be the best part of a relationship brings out the worst in someone, don’t be surprised what the worst times in a relationship will bring out. You will want someone who cares about your well being as well as his own during hardships. I know because your Daddy and I have been through a lot together. When we vowed to love one another better or for worse, we didn’t realize how important that vow would be.

We have faced an artillery of difficult circumstances. For example, we never anticipated having a child with a life altering medical condition, or that I would also be diagnosed with one, all within ten years of our marriage. Both diagnoses bring stress to our marriage in various ways.  It is in these times that I have seen the best, not worst, in your father. He has been an example of how to truly love another. He gives of himself and his love selflessly and meets each challenge with understanding and prayer. When there is nothing but pain and hurt on the faces of those he loves, he is patient and non-judgmental. It may sound easy, but it isn’t. It is hard to smile when there is pain inside and I know he hurts too. It’s not easy to be the one person an entire family looks to for guidance and your dad does it so well. When he smiles and says, “It will get better,” and you can have confidence in his words. He can tell me he loves me and thinks I more beautiful than the day we met and although I don’t believe I am, I believe him.

So girls, one day I hope you will wait and seek a man much like your dad. He isn’t perfect, no one is but he’s pretty close. We are all very flawed but love and the love of someone who truly loves you can make a relationship that feels nearly perfect. Until the day you leave us for a family of your own, we want to love you the same…….. imperfectly perfect

Love,
Mom (*d*)