
“Fear knocked at the door. Faith answered. And lo, no one was there. “~Author Unknown
A while back someone said to me “If you want help, all you need to do is ask, and I’ll be there for you.” Actually, many people say this to me. But there is a problem – a big problem. The problem is: I’m stubborn. I really am. And for those of you who know me, and are saying “noooo, really?” I say to you “shush up!” Sit tight and hear me out. I know I can be pig-headed, and I’ll be honest, I really don’t see anything wrong with that. I know what I believe in, I know what is suits me, and until someone can show me something different, I’ll continue doing what I’m doing. I’m open-minded; I want to learn new ways, and I’m willing to listen. But like I said, I’m stubborn, and because of this, I sometimes suffer a great deal of hurt as a result of it. I’m working on changing this though, albeit slowly, but I am working on it.
The other day I found myself on my knees. I didn’t fall; I wasn’t searching for something on the ground. I was on my knees because I was praying for a miracle. I was told some terrifying news which made me weak in the knees. This news scared me right down to my core, and has the potential to change my life forever. Despite of all the troubles, heartache and tribulations I have been through in the past, this has to be the worst of it. It’s a mother’s worst nightmare, and right now I feel like I am living it. I hope it turns out to be a dream, but only time will tell. This news is challenging me in ways which I have never been challenged before. I don’t know what to do, and so I’m doing what feels to be the right thing at this moment. I’m on my knees – well, not really, but figuratively speaking.
Life hasn’t been easy for me, especially these past few years. I’ve been through a lot. I’m not looking for sympathy, or pity, I’m just stating the facts. It appears that as soon as life starts to get better, I get hit square in the forehead with another brick. This time I I’ve been knocked out. 10 points to the thrower!
As I mentioned in an earlier post “God, I Hate You”, I’m not a religious person. There are a lot of things that I just don’t agree with about religion, but one thing I have finally come to understand, is why people pray in their time of need. I never fully understood the term “Have Faith.” But right now, I’m learning more about my faith and what it means to have faith. For some reason, I keep hearing Bon Jovi in my mind singing “Keep the faith.” But what is faith and what does it mean to have faith? I have no clue. And so I went on a journey to figure this out.
And it wasn’t easy. I’ve discovered that faith means many different things to many different people. What you’re going to read is what faith means to me.
One thing I believe is that having faith does not mean that everything will work out fine. Having faith is a huge stiffening process, and it hurts. I have learned that once I was willing to share my burden with a higher being, I felt lighter. By doing this, it makes life more bearable for me. It doesn’t mean that my life will be without worry or care, no way. But it took the fear that I was feeling, and somehow it turned it into some kind of a prayer. It also kind of lets me see the sudden joys, the startling glimpses of happiness during all the tragedies which I am experiencing. As a very wise woman who I had the honour of having a conversation with told me, faith doesn’t make things easy, it just makes things possible.
Faith is also a shovel. I find that it allows me to dig deep into an inward reservoir and tap into a bunch of courage, hope, confidence and calmness which I didn’t think existed, especially in a time like this. I am finding a sense of calmness around me, assuring that despite what could possibly happen, even if the unthinkable happens, that I will be ok, I will survive this. It also gets me through the day.
In the past I would have been full of self-pity. I would hear “be strong” over and over again, but not understand what the heck that meant. I have now understood that having faith allows you to be strong of soul, which in turn, feeds your body to allow it to be strong physically. Self-pity is paralyzing. It can be your worst enemy. When I was wallowing in self-pity, I did not have faith. Having faith wasn’t possible. How could I give the situation everything I had to give, when I couldn’t see past myself, my despair? I couldn’t understand what was happening, and so I was afraid. I couldn’t do anything to help the situation because I was blind with fear.
And this time I was beyond fear, I was petrified. But I was not blind. The difference was that I had accepted what was happening, rather than resisting it. I handed over all my fear to God. It doesn’t mean that I wasn’t afraid, I was, but I was not fearful. I acknowledged the fear, said thank you to it, and said to God “Ok, now you hold onto it, so it doesn’t weigh me down, and I am able to do what I need to do.” Like I said before, faith makes things more bearable. I wasn’t about to let fear control me, make me useless. By handing things over, I’m saying “Ok, this sucks, I know it. I’m scared to death. I hate what’s going on, but things also need to get done.” But I’m now able to meet whatever comes my way head on with courage, and I vow to give it the best that I can give. I’m not waiting for the storm to pass; instead I’m walking right into it head on. It makes things less scary. I know that with the storm I’m going to get wet, but I also know that I have an opportunity to dance in the rain as well.
Life may not turn out as I had hoped. I can see that very clearly, and I also know this for a fact. But it’s a lot less lonely now, and it’s comforting to know that I have someone around me all the time, even when I’m alone.
But the one big thing I learned the most about having faith is that in order for me to be in touch with my faith I had to ask for help. I had to be willing to hand over what I need help with otherwise I couldn’t be helped. And this is what faith is: asking for help, and accepting, receiving, help when it arrives. And this was my biggest problem in the past. I was too stubborn to ask.