Re connection with Faith, God & Me

I feel the need to write what I’m about to even though I’m a bit embarrassed (even though I shouldn’t be) and afraid of what some might think. I’m going to do it anyways. Agh, Here I go! -- Around 2000/2001ish, I was/felt closely connected with God. I remember having “talks with Him” at bed time (yes, mom, now you know haha) and thanking him for family and asking that he take care of my mom, my dad, my sister, and my grandparents and to make sure he gave my heaven homies a hello. Of course, this was all in six year old language. I wore a cross that my parents gave me for Christmas and I remember always having visions of God and what Christ looked like, etc etc. Then in 2001, when my grandpa died, we stopped attending church regularly. My mom is going to kill me for posting this on the internet for everyone to read about but, really, it’s not a secret to anybody. We would go to church only on special occasions – like Easter and Christmas but that connection with God had started to fade. However, I continued to hold the cross close to my heart and continued to pray at night and asked millions of questions and even though it had faded, the connection still existed despite the break between family and the church. For awhile, I was honestly quite genuinely happy. However, this had changed. Not suttely, not in an ‘ease’, or slip, but more like a switch. The connection went from on to OFF within an hour. Let me explain. – throughout my youth, suffering had not been foreign to me.(Don’t think I’m writing a sob story either – I am NOT wanting/needing sympathy from ANYBODY. Got it? Got it :) ) -- In fact, I was forced to understand why dad couldn’t be with mom, my sister, and myself growing up (why he couldn’t be at birthday parties, couldn’t attend kindergarten graduations, why he would be home just for an overnight visit and be gone by the time I would wake up the next morning, etc). I was forced to deal with tragic events – trying to understand cancer’s consequences and what tragic death really is all before I was 10 (why Grandpa Ken can’t bring me to the bar anymore to buy me an orange pop, why I won’t ever be able to meet with my Uncle Joe, why I wasn’t able to get to know my Grandma LaJune better, why Aunt Margaret and two of her children had to be ripped from the world because of an idiot drunk driver, why Grandpa Jack couldn’t recognize his own son or grand children, why, why, why, all this asking of why.) This was all very hard to cope. But I managed because my family managed. All these things mattered – but they didn’t. These were things that happened but had no reason – no reason that we know or understand of yet. 2008 is the year I stopped wearing the cross. It was the year that the only person who I could relate to, that understood, that didn’t care how many questions I asked or what the questions were, who I helped take care of and bring meals almost every day, etc., was taken by the flames of her burning house. It was the year my mother was officially diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. It was the year of hate. I cannot express the anger I had towards God. So much, I dare say I stopped believing. All prayers stopped, I only went to church unless I absolutely had to (if I was asked to read, etc), and God was not allowed to be apart of my life, in my opinion, at that time. Sure, struggle was not foreign to me by this time, but I had had enough. I don’t know how many times I cursed the name Jesus Christ. Happiness was a feeling I had forgotten – seriously. – Flash forward. 2012. The year of realization. Long story, short, I met this woman who would change my view of God and Christianity what I know will be forever. I didn’t/don’t really know her. In fact, when I first met her I didn’t even know who she was at all (besides the fact that she was a kickass college basketball player). But I remember having this feeling whenever I was around her. The best way I can explain it is that it was overwhelming happiness. She had this energy level of literally “God like” and it was all I could do to listen to her, follow every single piece of advice she had to give, etc.. Nancy was the one who reminded me of what Happiness felt like again. I looked up to her. But I knew I couldn’t see/be around her forever and I was so upset about this, I bawled and bawled because I didn’t want this amazing, powerful, feeling to leave me. After admitting this to her, she told me one thing that I will never forget. She said, “You know Haley, I know the secret to Happiness. Do you want to hear it?” Trying not to bawl even harder I said, “Yeah, I do”. And like I said, it is something I will never forget;… she said, “… it’s God”. And the truth had spoken for me. It sounds cheesy, ridiculous, stupid, whatever, but my life had changed from that day after. It’s been a slow process, but I’m getting there. I’ve been starting to pray again. Starting to bring God back in my life, because I know I need Him. Starting to understand the “why’s” of life. Starting to study, learn, and read more about the LDS faith because I feel it’s truth. Starting to realize.

God gave me life because I have a purpose and I need to fulfill that purpose. Someday I will know what it was that God needed me for, but until then I’m going to keep going, keep fighting, keep struggling, keep seeking truth. Because I know my life is worth something.

How has your connection been with God lately?