When I was 26 years old I found myself suddenly widowed two weeks after our first child was born. Legal complications forced me to sell our home. From the minute the funeral ended I was busy packing and showing the property. The sale came quickly and I moved back to Illinois to be near family.
Back home I walked around in a daze. The people and places were familiar but I didn’t feel like I belonged there. I struggled to get back on my feet while learning to be a parent. Eventually the shock started to wear off and I began to experience a frightening loss of control over my emotions. Thankfully my daughter’s pediatrician recognized that I was near the breaking point and recommended that I get some counseling.
The counselor asked up front whether or not I held any particular religious beliefs because working in secular agency he could not talk about religion unless I wanted to. I told him no because I had stopped going to church before I got married and hadn’t thought about God or the faith I was raised in for a long time. For the next few months it seemed as though all I did was cry and all he did was listen. Rivers of grief, fear and anger poured out and I began to find myself again with his help.
He was always upbeat, understanding and kind. His family stopped by the office now and then when I was waiting for an appointment. They were all so happy and loving they didn’t seem real. One day I asked him if he was an atheist because of all of the pain and suffering he dealt with every day. Since I brought up religion he was free to tell me everything that he knew about God. He told me that he totally depended on Him not only to deal with the pain he encountered but for everything in his life. He wasn’t preaching just telling me as a matter of fact that God was real and always there to help.
I went home that night and talked to a God that I wasn’t sure I even believed existed. I told Him that if He was real that I wanted what that counselor and his family had. Knowing that I hadn’t always lived in a way that He would approve of, I asked Him if I could be included in the forgiveness that I was told He died to give me. It wasn’t a very eloquent prayer and there wasn’t much faith to back it up, but there was hope. The hope of a life that offered joy and peace in the middle of a world full of pain and turmoil and constant help for whatever lay ahead. If that is what you hope for and you want to know if He is real, just ask Him. His answer will change your life.
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