Faith

Abundant Recompense

Songs of Experience

Faith

I thought I had my faith routine figured out. I prayed. I felt a connection to God. There were many times when I found peace in his midst.

Most often, I was turning to him in torment, reeling in the loss of the family I thought I was entitled to have; or crying out desperate for a friend or group I could compensate with. Essentially, loneliness rebranded in several different packages. And reliably, he’d quiet my soul. I’d find peace. I could carry on until the next bout. My faith was a tourniquet that stopped my emotional bleeds.

By every measure, I probably had a “right” to live in my constant state of loss. I never remember living with both parents. It had always been every other weekend with my dad, unless he didn’t show up to get me. I had one aunt who devotedly sent cards on every drugstore holiday, but otherwise I never heard from anyone. My mom remarried and I quickly loved the replacement batch of aunt, uncles and cousins that came with it. They were well-off, which was a wild turn from what I had known before. My mom and I went from rationing cheese and darning hand-me-downs to week long trips to Mount Snow in a private chalet, birthday cruises, spontaneous property purchases at auctions and wads of cash for birthdays and jobs-well-done. But then she got divorced again. This followed my little brother’s bout with Guillame Barre that left him paralyzed from the neck down for just over a year. My step-family all retired and moved south ready to live off the dividends back on their compounds tax-free and unburdened by any former connections. Auxiliary entities also failed me. My gymnastics coach was put in federal prison. My first good-paying job ended with a lawsuit, just about a year too soon to ride the “me too” wave to a successful court date. My beloved college where I discovered myself, my worth and my voice closed its doors.

I’m not sure I trusted God with much else besides handing me the spiritual tissues. I read psalms and let their poetic verses swaddle me back to a regulated state. But it ended there. There’s only so much depth to a faith that is treated like a 1-800 hotline. I couldn’t see that I wanted to change my relationship with God until I started to be overcome by the desire to change my life. Living at the mercy of my life’s story kept me worshipping the shrine of loss. I wanted to feel more than my feelings of grief. I was tired of having loss define me. I wanted to be lighter, freer and I wanted more adventure.

Craving more out of life led me to craving more of God.