Tag: finding faith

Peace, Love, and Grief… Finding My Way

“And when we examine the deeper issues of our beliefs or questions – particularly when the roots of those beliefs are not merely information but gut-level experience rooted in sadness and grief – well, it is sacred ground or scary ground, a minefield. That’s okay. One thing I’ve learned is that the Holy Spirit can be trusted. When the time is right, the time is right.” ~ Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts: Making Peace with an Evolving Faith

Over the past few months, I have had several friends say that they have moved away from the faith of their childhood, and are searching for something more… Not a new religion, but a faith that they can call their own… A faith born out of who they are and the experiences that have brought them to this point.

I get it… I started on this same journey well before Bruce died…

It’s funny… when we first met, I thought I had it all figured out. I knew what my religion taught. I could go through the rituals and say all the prayers. I could stand and kneel and fold my hands and bow my head. I could quote scripture and place my offering in the basket when it was passed. I spent my days trying to “get it right” … wanting this religion to hold all the answers…

But it didn’t… It couldn’t… not for me at least… I was divorced (Oh my, no!) and about to remarry. (Well, you can’t get much more “sinful” than that.) I can remember sitting in choir and hearing people talk about my situation. I can remember having a fellow teacher tell me I was no longer welcome to take communion. I can remember being made to feel that my faith was somehow “less” simply because I refused to stay in a violent marriage, and instead, chose to find someone who could love me and my children unconditionally.

Don’t misunderstand, it wasn’t the priest, (he was quite supportive), or my friends, (they were wonderful). It was only a handful of people, but it still hurt… And it left me doubting my faith and my religion. I hadn’t quit or given up yet, but the seed had been planted.

Then there was Bruce… He was a quiet, humble, private man who knew what he believed. He was a man who knew what unconditional love meant and how to express it. Seemingly without effort, he lived a life that was true to what he believed and centered on those around him. When we first met, I remember thinking that I needed to be sure he was “saved” … that he was a “Christian.” After all, I couldn’t marry someone who wasn’t a Christian.

However, it didn’t take me long to realize, he lived the most Christ-like life I had ever experienced. It wasn’t too long before I was asking him questions… I loved our conversations about God and faith. I soon learned that our biggest difference was he didn’t give two hoots about dogma or what someone else said he should think. He was quite capable of figuring out his own spiritual path.

Only months before he died, I found myself leaving church mid-sermon and in tears, because the pastor was insisting that his view point of a certain scripture was the only right one, and any other opinion was from the devil himself. In that moment, I knew I couldn’t do it anymore… As much as I love my God and my faith, and as much as I wanted to “get it right,” I knew this path was not the right one for me…

I cried and grieved for days as I realized, I couldn’t go back… and I really didn’t want to… I needed something more… I needed to start from scratch and figure out what I truly believed – not what anyone else was telling me to think. I no longer wanted the faith of my childhood or the faith of my parents. I needed something that was mine and spoke to my heart… Something more relational; something that was big enough to allow me to push back – to debate and question and doubt… Something that would expand my own thoughts and fill me up so I could live a life that was true to what I believe. In other words, I was looking for something more like what Bruce had. I mean, the rituals and all are nice and definitely filled with emotion in the moment. But I needed something more… Not a list of do’s and don’ts… I needed something that was real all the time – day in and day out – moment by moment.

Then, less than two months later, Bruce died… and I floundered. I was so mad at God. I stopped praying… I stopped my devotions… I stopped singing… I stopped all of it. In my grief, I just couldn’t care about a God who didn’t seem to care about me.

But time passed… and my faith is too deeply rooted, I suppose, to let go completely. So… I started thinking about the many conversations with Bruce about what he believed, which led me to read the books he had read, and listen to the speakers he had listened to… In a lot of ways, I was starting from square one. In other ways, my prior religious upbringing, gave me a lot of background knowledge that helped me find context and value in the things I was learning.

For the longest time, I thought I was alone. I thought I was the only one on this journey. Then, a couple of years ago, I learned about a whole movement within the church that is heading in this same direction… (like another Reformation, only better, because I am actually blessed to experience it firsthand.)

I am still on this journey, and hopefully, will be for the rest of my life. I love not having all the answers. I love reading and thinking and comparing all of the different aspects of what I thought I knew, what I am learning, and how all of it is shaping what I now believe.

So, as I sit here this week, listening as my friends find their own way, I understand their pain, their frustration, and their struggle. Still, I find myself smiling… Yes, it is a bittersweet moment, because I keep thinking about the fact that I would never have been on this path if it weren’t for Bruce… (And maybe even because of my grief over his death). His legacy of living a life that was true to his beliefs, has been a shining example for my own path… He did and still does give me the courage to keep digging… to keep reaching… and to simply keep on…

And I am forever thankful for that.

To old friends, (whose names I recognize week to week), as well as, anyone new to our site… I am sorry for the reason you are here. I hate it for you. At the same time, you really AREN’T alone. This journey is an odd one – filled with challenges we never imagined. We never know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when something will remind us of our loved ones. We never know when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger. That can sometimes make this journey feel even more lonely. Yet, there are other times when I know I am not alone at all. We are here for each other. This journey holds both challenges and peace-filled moments for each of us. Yet, it is actually our love for those we have lost that brings us together to this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Finding Peace After the Anger

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” ~ Psalm 147:3

The other day as I dropped off my grandson for school, I started thinking about my own rides to school as a child…

Back then, we lived way out in the country with a one-hour bus ride to school (and that was if the bridges weren’t open for the boat traffic). While I prefer to think about those “happy laughter” or “sweet sentimental” memories, one of my most distinct memories of those endless bus rides was actually one of anger… or to be more blunt – pure rage.

I was about six years old, and it was on the bus ride home. I had saved the seat next to me for my sister. (After all, I was a first grader who idolized her big sister. Where else would she want to sit except by me? Right?) Now, keep a few things in mind, I was a bit timid as a child… I was that kid who hid behind my mother’s skirts when she tried to introduce me to new people. And at my first piano recital, I refused to play until my sister came and sat on the bench next to me, blocking the audience from my sight.

That day, as I waited with my hand on the seat next to me to save it, a high school girl I didn’t know (and was sure I wouldn’t like), moved my hand and sat down anyway. I remember feeling instantly indignant. “I’m saving that seat for my sister,” I told her.

“Your sister’s already sitting in the back,” she said. “… With her friends,” she added as she looked the other way. I remember standing up and looking back. Sure enough. there was my sister laughing and talking with her friends. I was instantly so incredibly angry. I looked at the girl next to me who smiled, and got even angrier… And then, I did it… I bit her forearm… Actually, it was more than a bite… I latched on and refused to let go until she had to get off the bus about 30 minutes later!

That poor girl! If I were her, I would have labeled me a brat and hated me. I definitely would not want to ever sit next to me again.

But that is not what happened… Not even close. Instead, she not only sat with me day after day, I remember her going out of her way to be kind to me. I remember her saving me a seat when she got there first, and on other occasions, asking about my day or whatever I brought for show and tell. I remember her sitting with me and making those long bus rides fun… And through those long, endless rides, as she listened to me or made me giggle, I began to feel valued… and I learned to love her. Funny, I can’t remember her name now, but I will always remember the impact she had on me that year.

So why am I sharing this story here?

Because as I reminisced, I started thinking about the only other time I remember feeling abandoned, helpless, and filled with rage at something I couldn’t change… And that was when Bruce died. It was that same feeling I had when I looked at the back of the bus and realized my dreams for this journey weren’t going to happen.

While I denied it at the time, I was so absolutely angry with God. I begged, I cried, I cursed, I shook my fists, and eventually, I just decided to turn my back on him, since it felt like he had already turned his back on me.

I was done! … Or was I?

As time passed, and I started working on healing and on myself, I found that my faith was too much a part of me to ignore or abandon. But, I also realized that my faith wasn’t really my own… All those years it was really just a carbon copy of what I had been told… In other words, it wasn’t my faith or beliefs at all. It was like it belonged to someone else, and I had just picked it up and put it in my pocket.

I remember dreaming about Bruce one night when I was still so angry. In the dream, Bruce was telling me that God was real, but he wasn’t the God I thought he was… He told me God wasn’t a God of anger and judgement. Instead, he was a God of love and compassion. In my dream I was so doubtful, and that is how I woke up… But what I knew was I needed to figure out for myself what I believed… Then, maybe I could let go of the anger… And if I could let go of the anger, maybe – just maybe – I could start to heal.

I would love to say, it was an overnight transformation, but it wasn’t… not even close. It has taken years… Years of starting from a clean slate and figuring things out from scratch… Years of making my own discoveries and building my own faith… Years of learning to be comfortable when my idea of God and faith doesn’t match up with the mainstream “church.”

But through those years, I have learned a lot. My faith is my own… I don’t need to explain it or rationalize it to anyone… And the best part has been the peace I have acquired…

Like the high school girl, who chose to be patient with me and show me love and friendship and ultimately made me feel valued and loved, God never turned his back on me… Instead, he waited. He let me rant, and he loved me anyway… His shoulders were big enough to handle my rage and my doubts… And instead of punishing me (as I had been taught to believe), he waited patiently as I figured things out for myself.

I still miss Bruce. I still cry when I let myself think about him too much. BUT the anger and rage are no longer there… Instead, there is a peace that comes from within… A peace in knowing that he is still beside me… A peace in knowing that my faith is one built on what I know, and not what someone else has told me. And while I may not understand or like what has happened, I know God didn’t cause it, and he doesn’t like it either… And I am not alone… He hurts when I hurt… And I believe…

“There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered.” ~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? Did you experience that anger and rage after you lost your loved one? Do you still struggle with those emotions? Finding our way out of those emotions is going to be different for each of us. How do you deal with it? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you!