Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Cause you gotta have FAITH

I was born and raised Catholic.  I went to a Catholic school, where we had a religion class every day and church once a week, plus mass on Sundays with my dad.  I've always believed in God.  Why wouldn't I, when that was all I have ever known, all I've ever been taught.  But through the years I have struggled a little with wondering where I belong in this whole world of religion.  There are some things that I just don't agree with when it comes to the Catholic religion.  But I believe in God.  I believe in miracles.  I believe in Heaven.  I believe that God is all forgiving.  I believe that God brings each and every one of us into this world for a reason and He also takes us out of this world, when He says it's time, for a reason.

There are a few blogs that I follow, where the women who write these blogs are what I would say, "very religious."  They know the bible like the back of their hand.  They relate all things, good and bad, to God.  They are involved and active in their faith, church and religion, which are HUGE parts of their lives.  I don't consider myself a "very religious" person, but when I read their blogs, they make me feel like I am listening to the best sermon I've ever heard.  They are so connected with their faith in such a way that it just draws me in and opens me up to another side of God that I never really saw before.

I've learned so much about faith and hope and miracles and God in the past 3 years than I ever learned going to a Catholic school for 13 years.  I mean, when you watch your own child fighting for her life from the get go, then have to hand her over to a complete stranger 6 short months later to have them cut your baby right down the middle of her chest and perform a life saving surgery on such a teeny, tiny gift......you just have to believe in something.

I've become more aware of the world, the entire world, around me.  Babies who are judged from the minute they are born and left to waste away in a crib, unless someone extra ordinary comes to swoop them up and take them home to love on them forever.  Or babies who are born with unfair circumstances and only get to spend such a short time here on earth before returning back home.  And the ones who are here to bear such a heavy cross and must suffer, day in and day out.  It's always been hard for me to understand why such an awesome and all powerful God would allow these things to happen, to sweet and innocent babies no less, but I read something a few months back that made that light bulb click on and I feel like a part of me gets it now, even though it makes me sick to realize that something bad always has to happen for something good to happen in return. 

I truly believe that most people are kind and loving, and caring and compassionate.  But we are all so caught up in our own lives, that we tend to forget about others.  So when we are faced with something, or someone, who is struggling and could use a little extra love and support, we find it in our hearts to rise up to the occasion and give back, whatever we can.  Whether it be financial support, or kind words, or a heart felt prayer to God.  We tend to rise up and help make a difference.  Because truly, a lot of people really are kind and loving, and caring and compassionate, but unfortunately it takes pain and suffering of others to make a lot of people stop what is happening in their own lives and take a second to think about another human being. 

Over the last year or two, I have seen what the power of people and prayer can do for others in need.  It's so amazing!  Strangers coming together to comfort one another and give encouraging words and provide strength to those who need it most.  People, who have never met one another and probably never will, making moutains out of mole hills for another life less fortunate then their own.  Now to me, that is God, working tirelessly to help each one of us realize that we all can make a difference in the life of someone else.  We are all carrying our own cross here on earth, some are just blessed with a heavier cross to bear then others.  And I know that a heavy cross usually doesn't feel like a "blessing", but I've come to realize that the heavier the cross, the bigger the impact you will have on yourself or someone else, to change the way this world works.         

2 comments:

  1. Dixie.
    I too born and raised a catholic. When I left home, I left the church. I never left God though, and of course He never left me. Since my mom and sister moved here from California a year ago this Memorial Day, I have gone to mass every sunday with them. first at St Ben's, easily the most beautiful church I have ever seen, and now I am going on my own, to St Pat's. I have not been to confession in over 30 years, and I don't know when I will go, I am gathering strength/courage for that. but I am getting something out of the Mass. Some days more than others. Luke is going to St Pat's preschool in the fall, the school seems wonderful. Maureen

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    1. That's great Maureen :) I love the thought of a church community but I'm still just not sure where I belong yet. It's so important to me that my girls grow up knowing about God, but as good as it would feel to have a church to call ours, I feel very much connected with my faith where ever I am.

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