To quote Mr. Spock
…”Is this all there is? Is there nothing more?” (Star Trek: The Motion Picture).
Over the past year, I’ve been able to return to speaking terms with God. He hadn’t gone anywhere, but from the day my brother dropped dead in 2012, I couldn’t find Him feel Him, acknowledge Him. In theory, I never stopped believing in Him but on the personal experiential level that I had experienced since I was 16, the lights were off & He most assuredly wasn’t home.
Since I was 16, my faith had been my absolute, rock-bottom foundation. All through the 80’s, through hating bedside nursing & through Ron being fired from job after job, I knew God was there. (because, listen, ain’t nobody but God was able to guide my fingers as I was able to insert a #14 & #16 IV cannula into one man’s forearm pre-operatively - surgeon’s orders, damn him). Through the 90’s into the 2000’s as Ron’s health slowly began deteriorating…and then after 2001 when all the wheels really did come off the wagon & my life turned into keeping Ron alive just one more day, I knew God was there. My life was a nightmare, but I knew God was there. And even as Ron died, I knew without a doubt that he was wherever God was, safe & whole.
So, living without an intimate faith connection for 11 years felt like I was dying, alone, in the dark, by millimeters. It sucked. Rocks.
As I learn how my C-PTSD (complex post-traumatic stress disorder, AKA childhood/adolescence abuse) rewired my brain & as I how to both recognize & manage the rewiring, I’ve found my way back to a kind of simple faith. My faith isn’t as it was because I‘ve recognized that I have to live with & accept the not-freaking understanding WHY on a personal to global level. My questions haven’t vanished. I still get royally torqued with God. But, at least, I can talk with Him again. I believe I’m not walking alone anymore. Major win for Sparky.