Faith (n.):
1 a: allegiance to duty or a person : loyalty
b (1): fidelity to one's promises (2): sincerity of intentions
2 a (1): belief and trust in and loyalty to God (2): belief in the traditional doctrines of a religion
b (1): firm belief in something for which there is no proof (2): complete trust
I invite you to review the definitions of Faith provided by Merriam-Webster Online. Reflect that the first definition, a more secular one, is geared more towards our interactions as men and women of this Earth. Notice it is defined as a loyalty to a duty or a person. Thus why we say such things as, "I have faith in you."
Reflect, now, on the second definition. This is clearly the more religious undertaking of the term, more commonly referred to, not as faith, but as Faith. The reason I capitalize it is due to the fact that it is referring to an intangible and incomprehensible power. To God. It also gives it differentiation in my writings. I can talk about my faith in others and my Faith in God. But this is more than reflections of faith and the definition thereof. This is about finding Faith.
As I mentioned in my first entry, I am Catholic. However, as the majority of people experience, events in my life caused me to pause and turn slightly from my Faith and system of beliefs. I stopped attending church. I cried everytime I was there. The sorrow filled me to the brim and I felt as though my chest was heavy. I couldn't walk in there. I felt it was a lie. I felt misguided and wandering, like in the desert, searching for answers. All along, I know I should have kept going. Hindsight is 20/20. But I was in college. I had better things to do, right?
I knew best.
Well, several forks in the road, disastrous turns and other good intentions gone bad, I had come full circle. I didn't know it yet, of course. I still felt lost. Honestly, I can't put my finger on the moment that I came to realize that church was exactly where I needed to be. I know when I met my fiancé, I initially rebuked church, saying I could be OK on my own. Finally, we went to the church he attended at that time and I succumbed to tears. It was around Mother's Day, I believe. I don't know what song it was or how it came to pass, but I cried. And I needed to cry.
Too long, I had held back my emotions. The hurt, pain, tears, fears and everything that held me back. I had been bottled, capped and set on a shelf until that point of expiration. And I exploded.
I know that day, the pastor made us seek another place to worship. His words were not of the Christian spirit in our hearts. But the service invoked memories in me that had been part of a catalyst to my downward spiral: memories of my Nanna
Nanna, my maternal grandmother, was a remarkable woman. I remember coming home from elementary school and going to the apartment my family had built for her joining our home. Three steps separated our house and hers. Three steps and a laundry room. I loved hearing stories of my grandfather, who passes away before my birth. To see his metals from World War 2 and to talk to her about her experiences. But most of all, I think about the Bible she gave me. And the inscription she wrote on the inside page. Although I do not currently remember verbatim and do not have it with me for easy reference, it encouraged me to continue my walk with Christ.
The spring of my Junior year in high school, we moved. I changed high schools. I put on a brave face. And it didn't leave for years. During that summer, my dad had taken me and my two younger sisters to the beach. Mom called, urging us home. Nanna was slipping from us. The day my mom came home and told me Nanna had passed caused my world to crumble. Although she told all of us there was an enormous amount of peace following her last breath, I was immediately lost. In the span of 4 months, approximately, I felt as though I had lost my home and a piece of my world.
I didn't cry at her funeral. I told myself I couldn't. They played my favorite hymn, "On Eagle's Wings," yet not a tear escaped me. This is what she would want, I lied to myself. I didn't mourn, truthfully mourn, her death until about the beginning or a little before 2012.
My fiancé has started to bring me back to center. My family, now more than ever, is my rock. They have always been there but I have been too blind and lost to see them at the end of my nose. The day I began mourning for my Nanna was the day I could begin to heal. To begin to forgive all those who had trespassed against me and who I had trespassed. To forgive myself for the years of hurt and affliction I had put myself through. Am I better? No. Even to this day, the hate that had consumed me for years still comes boiling over. On those days, even the sun can't make me come from the shadows. On those days, I know I am not myself. But in healing, we must still hurt. And this is a healing that is more than physical or mental. It is also emotional and spiritual. Not only must I mend the relationships between me and the people I know on Earth, but mend the relationship I had lost with God. I have to have both faith and Faith.
I continue to search for the complete inner peace that we all want ultimately. I know I will find it. It may take some deep soul searching and consideration, but it is possible. And this blog is a part of that. I think it will help me find some of my inner peace I know I need. And so, I continue my journey of finding Faith and faith. I will have more to write tomorrow. Enjoy a thing called "La Vie."
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