If you are joining me for the first time, please take a minute to catch up through the archived blog posts.
To Deb: Thank you for asking the hard questions. The things we don’t allow ourselves to explore completely are most always the things that go a long way in the healing process. Forever grateful!
*************************************************
After my last blog post I received a facebook message from a friend asking if I have faith in God. She was wondering what role the belief in God played in a cancer patients fight. She had recently lost her dad to cancer and she said that she didn't know where she would be without her faith. This question she asked me was a bit perplexing. After all, I have written about my faith in past blogs and I have used the Lord’s name here and there throughout my postings. I guess I thought it was obvious that I had faith - maybe not the mainstream, go to church, read the bible kind of faith, but MY faith nonetheless. But even knowing that, I found myself wondering, thinking about this question she had asked me. And so I did what every obsessive compulsive person does, I obsessed over the question for three weeks. I’m not sure that I am any more clear about my faith than I was before, but what I do believe is that my faith is for me and that is all I need to know. For those of you who care to learn more about the role my faith played in my fight against breast cancer, please feel free to keep reading.
I was raised Lutheran, ELCA, in a very small town in Nebraska. I was baptized when I was 3 years old, confirmed when I was 13 years old and that was about the end of my church days. I did attend the service on my high school graduation day as was expected of me by the church and my family, however if I was to be completely honest I felt it was nothing but a waste of an hour of one of the most monumental days of my life – the day that I could officially turn and run like hell from that little town and mostly everything that was in it, terrible memories and most definitely some terrible people.
Looking back I don’t think it was that I didn’t believe in God, the Holy Bible and all that jazz; it was simply that I didn’t stop to think about it during that time in my life. When I was old enough to rebel against pretty much anything my mother wanted of me, I did just that and not going to church was just one of the many ways I more or less told her I didn't care. When I left home I seriously did not look back and by not looking back I didn’t have to acknowledge the lack of God’s presence in my life (or what I perceived as His lack of presence). All of those early childhood years that I sat in that church, listening to the same sermon, repeating the same words and singing the same songs over and over again, memorizing verses - it was all about going through the motions of what was expected in our small town. It never felt real, it never felt natural, it just was what it was. That little town still holds so much resentment in me, resentment I’m trying to let go of. I’ll be the first one to admit that some of my resistance to that town is based on some of my own bad choices and mistakes. But far too much of my resentment to that town is based on events that I couldn’t control.
It wasn’t until I found that I was pregnant with Dawson that I gave church any thought. The idea that we must raise our children in the church to give them a foundation of faith was something I had always been against, however it did come to mind when I was told I was going to be bringing a life into this world. After all, it seemed that was why I was ever expected to attend church when I was a child – so the powers that be could say I was a Christian and that I would be saved should I succumb to a premature death. If I fell in line with what I was taught growing up, I would want the same for my baby - baptism, Sunday school, youth group, confirmation and then surely any child of mine that went through all of this would be saved - right? But what about the people that had hurt me as a child? They were considered Christians in the eyes of the church yet it wasn't as if they lived in “Godly” ways. I’ve never been a huge follower of the scripture, but I tend to believe somewhere in there God intended for children to be protected; I’m sure God intended for the innocence of children to be held sacred. I'm sure God did not see a world were child molesters roamed free without so much as a hand slap. I'm certain God did not want for a child to carry the burden of shame and fear and pain. But I did and a disgustingly large number of children do and so yes, my doubts about my God sat very close to my heart and soul.
From my early teens through my young adult years I definitely doubted Him, I mean REALLY doubted. I had done a fabulous job of talking the "I believe" talk when needed to save face, but other than 'my Amy' (what I call my dearest friend), no one knew my questions, my anger that I had in God. No one knew that I was so very close to saying there can’t possibly be a God. Because unlike so many that face hardships and hold their faith in God in front of all, I found that during my hardships and the pain that kept coming back over and over again, I held my doubt and anger in front of all. Even though I knew there was doubt, I never realized the source of that doubt until a "right place at the right time" happened when I heard a song nearly six years ago as I was driving to work. Now please keep reading…… this was a process for me and I’m sure this blog will be FAR too long but hey – it’s me and it's real and real can't be edited!
So anyway, I’m driving down the road and this song came on the radio. I had bumped the seek button and it landed here, the sound of the music was nice so I decided to listen, not having a clue what station I was on. So I’m listening to the words of this song so closely because the music is so beautiful and as each word processes through my mind, I began to shake and I felt myself get SO mad, so uncontrollably mad! Tears streamed down my face so fast and hard that I had to pull over because I couldn’t see the road. This song was Jaci Velasquez’s “I Will Rest In You” – take a minute…………………..
The message of this song was clear – as a child God protects, God keeps us safe and we have nothing to fear. And all I could think about as I listened to this song that day was “Where in the hell where you when I was being hurt when I was a child?” If the eyes of God were supposed to watch over me than why did it happen and why am I carrying it still to this day? And this was the day that my faith took a back seat and I didn’t look for it again for many years.
A few years later I started working for a real estate company. I was in the middle of a separation, facing being a single mother when one of the owners of the company took a minute to ask me how I was doing one day. I'm not sure how, but he had this ability to see right through me - something not many people can do. Before I knew it I was talking to this man about my doubts and more importantly my fear and anger with God. Very carefully, he offered for me to attend his family’s church. Absolutely no pressure, just an invitation to get a taste of what a church that believes in faith over religion is like. So I went to this non-denominational church in Norfolk, Nebraska – First Christian. The first service I attended I bawled through most of it. The service was about believing in what YOU believe regardless of what others instruct you to believe in. It was about finding your faith, not about being religious. There was incredible music with amazing lyrics that felt as if they were directed to me and with each song that the band sang I cried harder. I’m sure the people around me thought I was off my rocker but I didn’t care. I felt incredible when I left that church. Just to note, I can now say that the song that sent me diving far into disbelief years ago means something SO different to me now. I can listen to it and will still have tears, but the pain is gone and I can feel the love in it's meaning.
Many years have passed now and I can’t say that I am a devoted church-goer and there have been plenty of times that I have felt my doubts sticking mighty close to my heart, but even so, I can say that I believe. Yes, I believe. I believe in my faith and my connection to God, which is different than many others but I'm okay with that and I'm certain He is too. Maybe one day we’ll find a church home, but until that time comes we will continue to believe and it’s as simple as that.
Parting thought: I went through a lot of pain in my adult years (my two battles with cancer included) before I figured out that God doesn't fix our problems, he gives us the tools we need to find our way but we have to do the work. My tools are understanding and acceptance and I am so very grateful for them.
Parting thought: I went through a lot of pain in my adult years (my two battles with cancer included) before I figured out that God doesn't fix our problems, he gives us the tools we need to find our way but we have to do the work. My tools are understanding and acceptance and I am so very grateful for them.
Fundraising Goal: $1500.00
Donations Received: $985.87
(Donations can be made online by following the link on this page or by mailing a check made payable to “Breast Cancer Ride”, Charity “CJ” Bartels, P.O. Box 425, Cambridge, MN 55008)
PLEASE remember: even if you can't donate, spread the word and make people aware - cancer is still killing adults and children at an alarming rate. We all CAN make a difference!
***Training Update***
This week I will start my miles outside on my fabulous Trek road bike. I am thrilled and petrified! The winds seems to have made their appearance here in Minnesota just in time for my outside training but you know what - BRING IT ON!!!!
This week I will start my miles outside on my fabulous Trek road bike. I am thrilled and petrified! The winds seems to have made their appearance here in Minnesota just in time for my outside training but you know what - BRING IT ON!!!!
