Thursday, April 9, 2020

Blind Faith

There is a lot of fear running through the world right now. Thankfully, fear is not a stranger to my heart.

You see, a dark period started October 2018. The sudden loss of Blake, caused by the damned disorder that have threatened my kids' lives before, followed so suddenly by the death of Jerry, our soft-hearted Sleichter patriarch... it was a death blow to my faith. I found myself on my knees in private, sobbing aloud, "Why have you forsaken me?" There were other consecutive blows: my friend's cancer diagnosis, caring for an abused infant whose injuries proved fatal, loss of physical promixity of my husband, the list goes on. In short, the devil was winning.

For over a year, I tried to climb out of the darkness. I tried to find the joy. I tried to find faith. I tried to believe that God was there, that eventually I would again feel the warmth of the Holy Spirit, that I would get through a sermon at church without crying in anger. I tried to put on the fake smile, to force the laugh, to be there for my kids. But, I stopped going to church every Sunday, found excuses to miss, would even schedule shifts so that it wasn't an option.

There is a song by Mercy Me, called "Even If" that I would listen to and try to truly hear. The lyrics are:
They say it only takes a little faith
To move a mountain
Well good thing
A little faith is all I have, right now
But God, when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Oh give me the strength to be able to sing
It is well with my soul
I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt
Would all go away if You'd just say the word
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone

The true comfort I got from those words is knowing that someone who writes Christian music for a living, who is fully immersed in Christianity both as a profession and as a lifestyle, had struggled. They had their faith rocked and survived to the other side. And I could, too.

It took time. It took prayer, from me and for me. It took admitting I was rock bottom. It took one drunk bawling session with a cousin. It took a kick in the pants to my husband and from my husband. But I am back.

Now, I see so many others hurting. I see the friend who lost their barn to a fire, as their jobs are rocky, as their child got injured, as their schools are shut down, as they lost a family member. Have Faith and Patience, I want to say to them. I see the people furloughed, minimal income, afraid to leave their homes. Have Faith and Patience. I see the people home on lock down, afraid to leave their homes for fear of being sick, angry at anyone who dares to question the government edict. Have Faith and Patience.

It's easier said than done. I know how the darkness feels. And I'm afraid that you'll stay in the darkness until you seek out the light, both figuratively and physically. Force the prayers. Read the Bible. Ask friends to pray for you. Admit your pain, to yourself and others. Allow others to help. Allow others to pray for you. Get out in the sun. Turn on the lights in the house. Get moving.

You can take this advice or leave it. Either way, know I am praying for you. I'm hurting for you. I'm sorry you are hurting. And I pray you can find your faith and light again soon.

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