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Me, Myself, and God

I didn’t grow up in an extremely religious household, but my biological father made it a point to try and pray everyday and attend church when we could. I personally have always loved going to church. Our go to church, kind of where ever we lived, was the Calvary Chapel, but we really would go wherever (another favorite was The Rock Church). I liked reading the bible. I liked learning new things and singing Christian songs…I STILL love me some Christian music too (Skillet is my jam).

I believe in God. I believe in something bigger than me, and I always will. I don’t discriminate against anyone else’s faith. I actually think I’m more open minded than most Christians. I love talking to the people who come door to door in my neighborhood. I’ve had quick little sessions with them about Kevin and I appreciate anyone willing to pray for my child.

However, it has been hard for me to see the bigger picture lately. I think most everyone who knows me, knows by now that I have a sick kid. On top of that, its a disease that is genetic and I’m the carrier, which equals more sick babies.

Connecting with God has been a non-stop struggle for me, since this has all happened. I don’t like to admit to this…but I’m keeping it real for you, and for myself…

The past two years I’ve spent more days questioning God, than thanking him. I’ve spent more days resenting him, than loving him. I’ve spent more days rolling my eyes at comments like “God has a master plan,” or “Everything happens for a reason.” I’ve spent more days cringing at the sight of the Chaplain visiting us here in the hospital than feeling relieved I have someone to share my struggles I’m having with my faith.

Somedays I think “if I were a better Christian, maybe Kevin would be better by now. This is my fault. I should have been a better Christian. I should have prayed more.”

I’ve read that its normal to feel like this. I’ve heard pastors talking about it being normal to struggle with your faith. We’re only human. We’re imperfect and we have all sorts of feelings. But, it still doesn’t feel normal to feel this way.

I don’t know why my baby is sick, and I don’t know why I am burdened with the reality that I cant have more kids, without them being sick. I don’t know if I will ever be the same as far as my faith goes. But I feel like I will always believe that there is something bigger than myself out there. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, or that this was to make me a better or more humble and grateful person. I don’t. But I do believe in miracles. Weather its a miracle from God or from the universe. Crazy things happen everyday and nothing is ever certain in life.

 

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