The day my first son was born, a new something was also born in me. I don’t know if every parent feels the way I did, or if I am especially neurotic. I just know that along with a deep, aching love, was an oppressive fear of losing it. My very soul left my body and transposed into a tiny baby boy, naked and vulnerable. I was paralyzed by the thought of anything hurting him.
Almost two years later, my worst nightmare became reality for a friend of mine. There are things that I wish I didn’t even know could happen. Things that take a long time to heal and things for which heaven itself may be the only balm. The pain of seeing a family suffer in the cruelest way was too much for me to bear. I no longer believed God was good or even that He was at all. I sunk my claws deep into the idol of my child and turned my arrogant back on Him.
I went through the church motions for a couple of years because I knew them well and it was easier than admitting my anger. One day during worship I reached my end. All around hands flung wildly in the air while the crowd sang heartily “Blessed be Your Name, on the road marked with suffering…”. I couldn’t choke out the words. I wanted to put my hands over my ears because it hurt so bad to hear it.
“You give and take away, my heart will choose to say, Blessed be Your Name.” How could anyone sing that? There was a time when those words might have flown from my mouth with fervor. My pride would not let me sing it now.
I had something too precious to lose.
I cried. I was mad, but also I was tired of trying to be Him. Without Him I was dead, more scared and lonely than ever. I didn’t want this for my kids. The one thing I was hiding from was the one thing I knew my boys needed more than safety, more than happiness, more than life.
More than me.
I wanted them to know God. My God. My God that redeems anything.
Finding my way back is taking more trust, more grace, and more humility than I ever wanted to give. Before, my faith was unwittingly based on an expectation of security. Now I know nothing is certain. I guess I’m just finally OK with that.
I don’t want to say “yes” to Him “only if…” I want to say “yes” to Him “even if…”
So God, here I am.
Andi is a freelance writer and the mother of two young sons. When she is not clipping coupons, she chronicles life with little boys on her blog “Tales From the Running Mama” at www.tobyncharlie.blogspot.com.