The faith I (almost) lost
Let me tell you right now; I am one of those people who loves New Years. I get it. All of you cynical people out there would shun me for my optimistic aspirations and yearly planning. But I don't give you a hard time for playing your Christmas music while it's still flip flop weather, so let me have my moment.
There's something about the space for pausing, reflecting, and looking ahead that I absolutely love. Maybe it's just the shift to something different which appeals so strongly. 2018 has been a year for the books, to say the least.
Our year started out wonderfully, with the husband and I coming into 2018 as new members of a wonderful church family after months of being out of community. We bought our first (and hopefully last) home in the month of February, which was so exciting, but for those of you in Northeast Ohio, I don't recommend moving in the dead of winter. We celebrated our first anniversary and rejoiced over how absolutely fun our marriage has been. Summer consisted of vacations with friends and almost every night spent outside on our patio.
However, summer brought with it a shift into grief. My dear Uncle David passed away after a long fight with cancer. My brother lost a childhood friend to an overdose, my hometown lost a well-loved friend to a tragic accident, and a high school friend of mine passed away from cancer. My extended family dealt with tensions and strife, which struck me harder than expected. I watched my dad battle illness for months, bringing my family right to the edge of despair. October brought with it an unexpected emergency surgery, along with more unexpected complications I'm still dealing with. My plans and desire for control were shattered. People I looked up to let me down. My loved ones are dealing with issues that have me sitting down right in between grief and suffering. For a while, it felt as though this would be my permanent home.
2018 brought so many questions. The faith of my childhood felt hollow. I was disgusted by the hate I saw people I knew to be Christians spewing everywhere. Christian culture felt fake and reconciling the brokenness in this world seemed impossible. My faith was stripped to the studs and to be honest, I haven't made a full recovery. While my long held perceptions came under fire, there was one who remained constant. No matter where I looked, I knew that the Jesus, the Son of God, would be there, being love. He spent His time on Earth sandwiched between grief and suffering like I could never imagine. And while this weariness of befriending grief sets in, I am able to look forward in hope for His return to mend the brokenness.
More than that, I have learned so much. This year I have dug into my relationships deeper than ever. While this brings mess and grief along with it, it also carries meaning and love. Greater than ever before, I am able to grasp the depth of every human being having the image of God within them. I'm learning that brokenness does not equate the absence of joy. That while we are at rock bottom, we can still dance. We can still look to and acknowledge beauty.
At the end of this year, I can't tie everything up neatly with a bow. The problems are ongoing, but this is our human experience. There are still unanswered questions, but I'm learning to get comfortable with that. This restructured Christian faith of mine is proving stronger and more beautiful than ever (and I would love to talk about it to anyone willing to listen). My church community has brought healing I didn't know I needed, teaching me what the body of Christ ought to look like. I am looking forward in anticipation to 2019. With exciting and scary changes already on the horizon, I'm holding to the steadfastness of my God. He truly has never failed me yet.
There's something about the space for pausing, reflecting, and looking ahead that I absolutely love. Maybe it's just the shift to something different which appeals so strongly. 2018 has been a year for the books, to say the least.
Our year started out wonderfully, with the husband and I coming into 2018 as new members of a wonderful church family after months of being out of community. We bought our first (and hopefully last) home in the month of February, which was so exciting, but for those of you in Northeast Ohio, I don't recommend moving in the dead of winter. We celebrated our first anniversary and rejoiced over how absolutely fun our marriage has been. Summer consisted of vacations with friends and almost every night spent outside on our patio.
However, summer brought with it a shift into grief. My dear Uncle David passed away after a long fight with cancer. My brother lost a childhood friend to an overdose, my hometown lost a well-loved friend to a tragic accident, and a high school friend of mine passed away from cancer. My extended family dealt with tensions and strife, which struck me harder than expected. I watched my dad battle illness for months, bringing my family right to the edge of despair. October brought with it an unexpected emergency surgery, along with more unexpected complications I'm still dealing with. My plans and desire for control were shattered. People I looked up to let me down. My loved ones are dealing with issues that have me sitting down right in between grief and suffering. For a while, it felt as though this would be my permanent home.
2018 brought so many questions. The faith of my childhood felt hollow. I was disgusted by the hate I saw people I knew to be Christians spewing everywhere. Christian culture felt fake and reconciling the brokenness in this world seemed impossible. My faith was stripped to the studs and to be honest, I haven't made a full recovery. While my long held perceptions came under fire, there was one who remained constant. No matter where I looked, I knew that the Jesus, the Son of God, would be there, being love. He spent His time on Earth sandwiched between grief and suffering like I could never imagine. And while this weariness of befriending grief sets in, I am able to look forward in hope for His return to mend the brokenness.
More than that, I have learned so much. This year I have dug into my relationships deeper than ever. While this brings mess and grief along with it, it also carries meaning and love. Greater than ever before, I am able to grasp the depth of every human being having the image of God within them. I'm learning that brokenness does not equate the absence of joy. That while we are at rock bottom, we can still dance. We can still look to and acknowledge beauty.
At the end of this year, I can't tie everything up neatly with a bow. The problems are ongoing, but this is our human experience. There are still unanswered questions, but I'm learning to get comfortable with that. This restructured Christian faith of mine is proving stronger and more beautiful than ever (and I would love to talk about it to anyone willing to listen). My church community has brought healing I didn't know I needed, teaching me what the body of Christ ought to look like. I am looking forward in anticipation to 2019. With exciting and scary changes already on the horizon, I'm holding to the steadfastness of my God. He truly has never failed me yet.
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