I can remember growing up my parents always making sure we went to church every Sunday. I recall starting out at the Baptist Church on the corner and then making a move and changing to the United Methodist Church on the other corner. I'm not sure what made my folks make the decision to move but we've been United Methodists ever since.
Whenever I make a trip back to Iowa, I always drive past that church and I can remember what it looked like inside. I can remember the big santuary, the sunday school wing, the bridge from one building to the other over the alley in between, the large fellowship hall where we would often enjoy breakfast, and the huge cross that I can remember sitting inside the lobby before it was installed on the roof. I can even remember the day I was baptized and the dress I was wearing. It was shortly before we moved from Iowa to Virginia due to my dad's employment opportunities. I recall the water running down my long hair and dripping off the ends and getting the back of my dress wet. At the time, I knew what it meant to be baptized but I don't think that it really hit home until I became an adult.
I've spent most of my life making my own choices, not necessarily God's. And yes, I regret a lot of those choices. But, even when I look back, I can see God somewhere within my path. I've struggled in my faith, not because I don't believe that there is a God and that his son died for our sins but rather, I would suppose you can say, I've been stubborn.
Stubborn to the point where I decided to follow my own path and marry for the excitement of being married rather than for love and happiness. How foolish wouldn't you say? Looking back, I can see the error of my ways. However, God touched that relationship with giving me Matthew. Matthew is named Matthew for the meaning of the name. There's no other reason I chose that name for him. Matthew means, "Gift of the Lord". That's exactly what he is. My gift. My treasure. Mine to enjoy. Matthew is the one thing I do not regret about that marriage. Without Matthew having come into my life, I would have continued on a miserable, unhappy, and lonely path. I often wonder if God placed Matthew in my life at the exact moment that he did to sort of wake me up. Jolt me alive. I'll have to ask him one day...
Since having Matthew in my life, I have seen my spiritual journey turn back to God. I wouldn't say that I was ever turned away from God, but he wasn't at the forefront of my mind. It's amazing how once you lift your eyes back up to the Lord that you can immediatly begin seeing (and feeling) the path God wants you on. Case and point, my husband. How I ever ended up on the same path as this wonderful man, only God knows. He has been in my life since Matthew was only a few months old. Never in my life did I think I deserved someone so perfectly fitted to me. He is the caramel to my chocolate, the cherry on top of my sundae, the calmness to my insanity. I love doing life with him. He's my best friend and how lucky am I to be able to say that I truly am married to my best friend. He is my support system, my spiritual leader, and my provider. I've never felt a love like this ever in my life and I can only attribute it to God placing Chris and I in each others paths. He'll argue with me and tell me that I'm the one that was placed in his path to make him a better person but the way I see it, we both needed each other. No, our marriage hasn't always been sunshine and roses, who has a marriage like that? But regardless of how bad any day or moment may be, we know deep in our bones, we have each other, and we have our faith. I love being married to a man that has strong faith. I love that every night he takes the time to read a devotional before going to bed. I love that he often shares these with me. I love that every morning before he leaves for work, he sits in silence and prays. I love that I can share my intermost secrets and I love that he prays for me without me even asking him to. I'm blessed to have such a wonderful companion.
I can think of another instance when my faith was rocked. Nothing can bring you to your knees quicker than an illness and near death. In April of 2009, we almost lost my Dad. He went in for heart surgery to clear several blockages. I can remember vividly everything about the day he was in surgery and the next day when my world was pratically shattered. I can remember my mom, sister, older brother and my self sitting upstairs in the surgical waiting area people watching to pass the time. If there is one thing my family is good at, it's at entertaining ourselves during stressfull moments by people watching. We were laughing and sharing so as not to think about what was happening behind the big steel doors. Several hours later, the doctor appeared and said Dad had done great and was in recovery. A few more hours after that, Dad was placed in an ICU room and we were able to come and see him. He looked good. All of us were around his bed laughing and being silly. We bid him goodnight and off we all went. The next morning, my mom went up to the hospital to spend the day with him. I went onto work and planned to head up at lunchtime to take Mom to eat and visit. I had no idea how the day was going to end up. It was around 4pm and Mom and I were sitting next to Dad. He was watching tv, and mom and I were reading. We had just finished trying to get Dad some jello to eat. I looked down at my book and the words were gone. All I could see was a picture of my mom and I standing in the corner by the window with fear in our eyes and I was telling my mom, he's ok, he's ok. Before I had a minute to take in what was happening, my dad's heart started fluttering and the code blue sirens went off. Within seconds the room filled with nurses, doctors, people were everywhere. Where was I? I was standing in the corner with my mom, by the window, just as the picture had appeared on my book. All we could see was blue lights flashing, my dad's body lurching under the paddles, and more and more people flooding the room. We were quickly escorted out and placed outside his room while they worked on my Dad. It felt like hours and yet, it was only a matter of minutes when they signaled us a thumb's up that he was ok. I'll never forget the look on my mom's face. Sheer panic and terror. I wanted so badly to take that away but I couldn't. Within a matter of moments, his heart did the same thing and he was jump started again with the paddles. I couldn't take this. I wasn't strong enough. I was scared and I couldn't express that to my mom. I had to be strong for her. The evening went from bad to worse. Since they couldn't keep Dad's heart regulated, they decided to sedate him and put him on a respirator to keep him alive. He remained like this for 11 days. Everyday I would make a trip to the hospital after work, take my mother to eat lunch, and I would hang out until Matthew got out of school. Then, after dinner, Chris would get Matthew settled at home and I would go back up to the hospital to check in with Dad's night nurse and say goodnight to Dad. I would talk to him, rub his hair, hold his hand. Do you have any idea how hard it is to see someone you love laying there helpless and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it? But, God is good. The power of prayer is awesome. It says in the Bible, ask and you shall receive. Now, I realize, this doesn't mean ask for a million dollars and you'll get it. I've never prayed so hard for anything in my life. I prayed that my Dad would open his eyes and say, Hello Darlin' to me. That's all I wanted. None of us knew when they would take Dad out of sedation but we all prayed that when they did, he would be healed. Our prayers were answered on Good Friday. Dad's eyes were opened and he was ok. He was going to be ok. Prayer is amazing.
Flash forward to February 2010 and another surgery only this time, my Grandfather. What should have been a routine surgery turned into a plane ride to the Mayo clinic in Minnesota. My Grandfather had died and evidently, God wasn't ready for him just yet. He collasped at home and my Grandmother performed cpr on him until the rescue squad arrived. After many, many days of trying to find out what had happened and why so that the doctor's could fix it, we found out that he had a blocked artery and that the blockage had shifted blocking bloodflow to his heart. He would need immediate surgery and a shunt put in. Not just any shunt though, he'd need a special shunt that had yet been approved. I traveled to Iowa to spend time with my Grandmother after Grandpa had been released from the Mayo Clinic and put into a rehab facility and I'll never forget the way my Grandma behaved. I saw a side of my Grandma that I'd never seen. She's always been the strong one and here now, I could see it in her eyes, it was fear of the unknown. Grandma and I had many private talks that weekend. I remember walking into the den to watch tv one evening and looking at the recliner that Grandpa had collasped in. I was scared to touch it. Why? I don't know. What I do know is, once again, the power of prayer was awesome. I learned a lot about my Grandma's spirtiual side that weekend. Even though I was there with her due to circumstances none of us ever want to experience again, I wouldn't trade that weekend with my Grandma for the world. I will cherish the private conversations and the closeness we shared forever. Seeing my Grandma's constant faith made me proud to be her granddaugher and impressed upon me that constant faith and prayer is vital in any spiritual path regardless of what God has planned.
Why am I sharing all of this with you? I guess because I want you to see the platform on which I have built my faith and why my faith has gotten stronger. Things happen in life that cause you to take pause and see the bigger picture. God's plan isn't known by us. If it was, would I have moved away from Virginia to Indiana? Furthermore, would I have moved from Indiana where I was beginning to feel comfortable and was making friends to Georgia where I know no one? I find myself struggling these days trying to fit into this new area that Chris absolutely loves. Chris gets energized by the beach. The sound, the smell, the sand...he loves it. He loves living in Savannah. He loves his job, he's happy and content. The only problem is, me. I'm having a hard time adjusting. I don't have a focus to jump head over heels into. So, with that in mind, I've decided to change my blog slightly. I know everyone enjoys reading it for the Evoy updates but I feel that in order for me to maintain faith in this journey God has put me on, I have to change my focus of this blog. I feel in my heart that God sees me struggling and has purposed me with writing daily on my faith, scriptures, my spiritual path, etc. The idea first came to me when I was driving Matthew to school this morning. It had to have been an idea planted by God and I intend to see where this idea leads me. I know that I need to be stronger in my faith daily and not just when it suits me. I need to spend more time with God being still and listening. Maybe this is his way of allowing me time to be silent and enjoy his company. God works in mysterious ways. He's done it time and time again in my life, I reckon it's time for me to just Be Still and Know that He is God.
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