I don't know if I am a woman of faith. I would like to think that I am. But I don't know for certain. And is it so important that I am certain? Again, I don't know. Of course one can discuss faith all they want but faith is meant to be lived. And as difficult as it sometimes is, I believe that I am living it. Or I hope so, anyway.
It has often been said that God's ways are not our ways. That frightens me sometimes. It makes me wary. I tell him, Thy will be done. And what is that? Following Him is not always easy, admittedly, but it can be done. I would be a fool to do otherwise yet there have been times -- many times -- when I did choose to do exactly that. Otherwise. And when I choose to do otherwise, I suppose Otherwise just laughs in my face, knowing that I had failed yet again in my quest to not only be a better person, but to be holy as well. My actions and my speech may not always reflect that but if the truth be known, that is what I wish. That is what I long for.
Life has often been a struggle. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. I am not alone in my pursuit of holiness; I am not alone in my struggles. Yet, oftentimes, I do feel alone, and wonder why He doesn't reveal more of Himself to me.
There is no doubt that I have experienced Him in my life. I am quiet in my search so maybe that is why He speaks to me quietly? There is no burning bush, nothing dramatic nor showy. No voice thundering down from the heavens. Perhaps He knows that I would have questioned the burning bush, whether I really saw the brilliant flames and whether I really heard His voice. I am too aware of my surroundings and perhaps too cautious. And I still do not trust enough.
I see his majesty all around me and yet I do not see Him. Perhaps He also knows it would terrify me? And who really needs that? (You know I only say that in jest, Father.)
And even though it still isn't always easy, my marriage has matured and it is better than it has ever been before in a lot of ways. It is still far from perfect as both of us are still far from perfect. And is it even supposed to be perfect? Pleasantries would be nice without being too emotionally charged. It is better now and yet, it is also empty. There is a void within that will never be filled for I feel incomplete. Motherhood, Father, motherhood. Why are there no children? Not even one? There are no children so this is how life is for us. Or is it that life unfolds this way for us precisely because we have no children? Does that make any sense at all? Or is it just me and my silly questioning which apparently has not ceased even though I am now older and should know better. Haven't we sacrificed enough? Or would that be too bold of me to ask You? Or maybe You know us better than we know ourselves, that there are no children for a reason, as painful as it may be to accept. What am I doing wrong? Or what did I do that wasn't right? Or don't I know the answers already?
Both of us stayed. We stayed, Father, but at what cost? Years passed, bodies aged, minds and hearts transformed. Things are better now so there should be children in our future. Shouldn't there? But we are also older now and it is too late, for various reasons. Or is it? I still ask "Or is it?" because I still want to hold on to that last shred of hope, however small, however minusucle. I still hold on, Father. Have you ever seen such a fool? Or has desperation set in, wondering if that time will ever come?
Am I like the fourth wise man who seeks you in this earthly life, never to see You as You truly are? Am I to only see You in my neighbour, in the works and words of everyday life?
At the end of my life, will I finally be able to see You and go, "There you are!"
And would I be filled with wonder or fear? Or both?
As I write this, I hope that you are guiding my words. Sometimes I feel that You do. Sometimes ... well ... I don't know. How I know those three words so well.
I do know this much: You are guiding me, each and every day. I don't feel You at least not in the way that I would like to, or in the way that I've heard others describe their experiences of You. Sometimes I think that I do. Sometimes I wonder if I do. And sometimes I just question too much. Time is running out, to be sure. I am growing older. When I was younger, and felt stronger in my faith (which I didn't know at the time would be truly tested later on), I asked You to give me mountains to climb. I was so sure that I could do it. I felt strong but I wasn't really strong, was I? My world seemed to fall apart some time after that but now I believe that it had to so that I could rebuild it again, to rebuild myself again. (Remember my giant ball of confusion?) And here I am, still rebuilding! It hasn't ended yet, has it? Is it for lack of faith? I am reminded again that God's ways are not our ways. And yes, that still frightens me. You see me as I truly am and there is a curiously dark side to me which you know so well. I don't always like myself. There is sometimes even a self-loathing that I don't even think my husband understands. I am sometimes easily confused though not easily swayed.