My Faith Story...

I was raised in a Catholic family. I was baptized, received my First Communion and was Confirmed through the Catholic church. For a lot of people that is full of emotion and meaning, for me it felt pretty flat. I could recite the entire mass by heart but had no idea of the meaning or purpose for any of the rituals that were so burned into my memory. I wanted to have faith. I wanted to believe that there was a God. I remember the first time I really talked to God. It was the morning after I was told that my grandfather had lung cancer. I was 8 years old and sat by myself, begging God to let my grandfather live. I promised to be a good girl if He would just give me more time with my grandfather. Grandpa had surgery and went into remission but so began a long line of empty promises made by me to my God. Dear God, if you give me a little brother… Dear God, if you make that boy notice me… Dear God, if only I was a better athlete, student, daughter… Dear God, if you help me to not hate myself… In April of 1994, my grandfather passed away, and so did any hope I had that My God was even listening anymore. I felt that He knew that my promises were empty… and so did I. I spent the rest of my teenage years being bitter, angry and sad. I fought with my parents every chance I had. I withdrew from being an active part of my family. I would hide out in my room and look for any possible opportunity to get out. I was a good enough person to stay out of trouble… but tested a lot of boundaries. I married at 19 and thought that my life was a dream. Sure, he would drink a little too much and occasionally did drugs but he “loved” me…which turned into “I can fix him”… and eventually became “if he would just hit me, at least I would be able to fight back!” I finally realized at 24 that I had to get out. Find out who I was… and who I wanted to be. My whole world changed the day that Bryan walked into my life. I knew he was “religious”. I even warned my friends not to use profanity around him and to be respectful as so not to say anything that would make him uncomfortable. I was intrigued by his faith and his story but did not really dig too deep because I did not know how comfortable I would be with his truth. It was as if I knew his God, I would have to admit all of my faults. At that point in my life, speaking the words “I am a sinner” was not something I was willing to do. My life went on like that for some time. In 2004, our 1st son was born, and that is when it hit me… I had been living my life in such a selfish manner. The doctor put this tiny being in my hands and I looked into his precious, clouded eyes. At that moment I knew, I KNEW that there was something… someone so much bigger than me. I was this child’s mother not by chance but by this grand, amazing plan that was written and set before I even came to be. To be honest, this has been a long journey for me. Though I knew that there was something bigger than me, realizing that Jesus was my Savior and Redeemer was more of a process. If I had to pick one pivotal point in my walk it would be 2 years ago during one of Nathan’s messages. He said, “the question is not ‘am I too broken for God?’, the question is ‘am I broken enough?’.” That statement took residence in my heart and helped me to understand that He loves me despite my brokenness and that I will forever be His child. There really is no greater love than that of a parent for their child. I can completely relate and understand that kind of unconditional love, that bond, that covenant because I feel it for each of my children. So, here I am, 34 and anticipating the arrival of our 6th blessing. I am not bitter, I am not angry, not sad… I am completely full. I now realize there has never been emptiness in the promises that He has made for me. Nor will there be emptiness in my promise to Him. I have finally accepted the fact that I am not perfect… but I don’t have to be perfect. I am exactly who I am supposed to be… I am enough.