Finding Faith

The title of this post seems to suggest that I've lost something.  Well, I haven't.  And it's not that I've never had faith, because I have, and I do.  But it is something I've been thinking about a lot lately and trying to reconcile my feelings.

I was raised in a Christian family, but weren't a religious family.  We walked to a church when I was younger that was around the corner from our home.  I loved going to Sunday School and hearing all the bible stories.  In the summer, we attended Bible School.  It felt natural and peaceful and right.

When we moved out of that town, we didn't get to church as often.  My mom, wanting to keep us "in the spirit," would drive my brother and I to Sunday School and then pick us up later.  Sometimes my parents would go, too, but they had a baby to take care of and I think it was hard for them to get us all out of the house looking respectable each week.  
Eventually, we switched to a church in our new town and became part of a new church family.  I loved singing in church, going to Sunday School, and participating in Youth Group, though I don't remember doing any of those things long-term.  I think I even taught a few Sunday School classes when I was in high school, but my memory is shoddy there.

Unfortunately, after high school, I didn't much get to church on a regular basis.  I was busy learning about life in ways I had never known, and I didn't have time.  You know, teenagers - think they know it all.  It wasn't that I had forgotten God, he was just out of my immediate "present." And I pretty much didn't know I could even go to church while I was at college.  I was devoted to the theatre department at that stage in my life.  

Fast forward to my wedding.  Dick and I decided to get married in my old church from when I was a kid.  My pastor from my second church was now retired, but assisting at the first church, and he agreed to marry us.  It was a lovely, traditional church wedding.  Soon afterwards, we returned to that same church to have our twins baptized.  


I wanted our kids to know God and experience that same joy of listening to bible stories, singing in church, and experiencing the love of God, so when they were about 5 we began looking for a church our family would feel comfortable in.  The first church was Methodist (how I was raised), but we never felt comfortable there.  People were kind and

welcoming, but they didn't even remember us from week to week.  We would get greeted with, "Welcome!  you must be new!", when in fact, we had been coming for several weeks.  So we tried elsewhere.  We walked into St Luke's Episcopal in Brockport and immediately felt embraced by this congregation and by Father David.  We were pretty regular for many years.  I taught Sunday School and both Dick and I were Lay readers at one point.  And every Christmas I directed the pageant with all of the kids from the congregation.  It was home.

Father David invited me to help him teach at camp one summer.  We traveled to a Episcopalian camp which held several sessions, but we were assigned to just one week.  It was a new experience to me, and so uplifting to see so many youth and counselors praising the Lord in joyous celebration.  It left quite an impression on me, and I yearned to feel a connection with Christ as I had witnessed others doing.

When Father David left to move to another state, we were devastated, but continued to attend for awhile.  Unfortunately, it wasn't the same, and getting out of bed on a Sunday morning was not easy any more, and eventually we just stopped trying.  The kids were in college and nothing felt right.  

I began to think of church as something manmade and not the house of the Lord.  I have some shame about that.  After all, God is God and He is everywhere, so shouldn't I just buck up and get my sorry butt to church?  Lots of time passed, and we became the "Easter and Christmas" crowd. Now, we don't go at all.  And yes, there is much guilt.

Getting into Young Living, I've been reunited with God.  I have been praying - probably more than I ever did before - and when I ask for guidance, he has answered me in true and unusual ways.  At a rally earlier this year, I entered a few raffles, and out of the blue, I won an "Ancient Oils of the Bible" set.  I was blown away because I thought all of my raffle entries were gone ... In fact, I didn't even know my number was called, and when I

realized it was me, I had NO idea what I had won.  I burst into tears when I saw the box -- and realized God had once again answered my prayer of "Should I be doing this Young Living thing as a business?"  The answer came loud and clear.

As I said, I am praying more often, asking for guidance, praying for others, and giving thanks for all that I have in this world.  It is beginning to feel more natural and comfortable, though I know I have a long way to go ...  I struggle with "the  church," especially when I hear stories of abuse or meet "church goers" who have very distinct opinions or biases about others.  I know the Bible is God's word, but as a critical thinker, I wonder at how much of it was embellished by the writers.  You know, let's just tweak this story or this "law," and people will behave better.  

I believe in the essence of the Word, and that the interpretation is just as it is in anything else you might read.  One person's experience may be different than another's.  The lessons you need to hear will be the ones that come through loud and clear.


At the Diamond Bound conference this past Sunday, I attended the Sunday Service with my roommates.  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was glad that they both wanted to go, so I wouldn't be alone.  I would have gone without them ... Well, I would have planned to go, but I know I would have probably not made it a priority, so I was grateful for the push.  The service was a beautiful compilation of songs and faith.  A band played and sang 

hymns of joy, love, and thanks.  Our voices were united as we followed the words on the big screens.  Young Living is a company of faith, so there were many in the room who were certain of their place in His world and you could feel the spirit all around.   It was amazing to experience and be a part of.  Many people raised their arms to the sky, welcoming God's spirit.  There were times I was sobbing, or singing, or even raising my arms -- I wanted to feel all the feels and be a part of this world.

I am trying to keep a gratitude journal and write in it every night with at least five things I experienced each day that made me grateful.  At first it was difficult to think of things, but now, I find myself feeling grateful as it happens - and so these events come pouring out of my pen in the evening, and I can rest easily, thankful for this wonderful world that God has made me a part of.  

I will continue to explore and grow in my faith.  I believe that God is Love, and that if we just appreciate what we have, share with others, and give from the heart, love will be there, too.  And with love, all things are possible.  With God, all things are possible.

PS - If you are on a journey of faith, too, I would love to talk with you.  Maybe share a cup of coffee and our joys, doubts, fears, and other experiences.