Crisis of Faith Part II
When I was little, God was my friend. I would say my prayers every night and ask him for stuff. If I wanted a toy truck for my birthday, I said a prayer, and sure enough, I got a toy truck. As time went on, I asked for bigger things. A baseball glove, an A on my math test, the courage to punch Johnny Pryor in the nose the next time he tried to push me down. All in all, God was my good buddy. I thought of God as a tall old man with long grey hair and flowing robes who lived behind the altar.
In the third grade I became an altar boy because I thought I owed God a little something.
I liked the idea of lighting the candles before Mass and then snuffing them out with that long bell shaped thing after. Pouring the water and the wine into Father Dolan’s chalice was a treat because he always wanted all the wine and just a drop of water, but I would always leave a few drops of wine in the cruet just to bust him up. I joked around with Father Dolan after Mass, and sometimes we would go out to breakfast and I would get to have pancakes and drink coffee and then buzz around all afternoon. Starting in the sixth grade, Father would occasionally take me on his sick rounds to the hospital. I would hold the plate while he gave the sick people Communion. Even I could tell some of the people were very sick, yet Dolan always cheered them up and left them smiling. Dolan was the best man I knew and I seriously thought of becoming a priest.
Things changed with me and God in the eighth grade when my little sister Kathy got sick. She was in the hospital all the time, and no matter how hard I prayed things never got much better. She suffered way too much for a first grader, way too much even for a guy as big as me.
I started to wonder if I had used up all my favors from God. Had I wasted them on small things instead of saving them up for something important like my sister’s health? Perhaps I should try giving some back, to build up a little credit for Kathy. I began to try and make deals with God. I would definitely be a priest, not a pitcher for the Red Sox if she got well. It was OK if I flunked my math test if Kathy could come home for a bit; Johnny Pryor could beat the crap out of me if she didn’t lose her hair. I made sacrifices like giving my lunch money to the missions, or going without my winter hat til my ears would sting like fire. God didn’t seem interested in what I had to offer.
One day I got a bad cut and was bleeding all over my shirt and I thought that God could take the blood I was wasting and just give to Kathy and make her better. I had lots to give it seemed, my shirt was mostly red.
Nothing seemed to work, Kathy died, Father Dolan was transferred, and God and I seemed to part company for the last few years.
Today a good friend of mine just told me she has family members who have been in a severe car accident. I told her I would pray for them.
“Hey God, it’s Rob, long time no see…”
Aww, what a nice entry!
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*hugs you* you are so adorable my dear. my doctor is a sweetheart and works with me. the debate is with myself over the aspect of MORE drugs to take. i get tired of popping the pills for my head all day, plus the allergy and asthma inhalers. this is a fantastic entry my dear. i definitely understand the crisis. what i have learned to pray is that things work out as best as they can for everyone, whether that is a quick and as painless as possible passing, or moving back where i don’t want to be. thinks happen as they will for a reason and i know it. i just have to keep sight of that when i am having a really horrid day… like being up all night as my son was puking from anxiety and them canceling the appt with his therapist today which was an emergency one to begin with. *hugs you tightly*
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I don’t think God works that way. Instead, I thank him every day for the good things I have, and leave the asking at the door. ~
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I wish I had that faith ~
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Wouldn’t it be lovely if there was someone up there? I used to know the same wise jovial guy.
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I got a fiver on the notion that He was there waiting.
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How do we cope with those things that are so totally out of our control? How to we respond to people who are facing tremendous challenge and tragedy? In our helplessness, we either rationalize it or reach out to something that is beyond ourselves. Though I have chosen to break away from church, I often recall words, prayers that still inform my values:”Christ has no body now but yours, no arms, nohands but yours. Yours are the hands that reach out to the world.” Sometimes it is our listening hearts (not offering a fix or our opinion), our proffered embrace, or touch that is truly the “healing touch,” the hand of God. I hope you had that when your sister succumbed to cancer, a human touch, human arms to surround you. If not, please accept a hug from me in retrospect, going beyond time, to your eighth grade self, a boy yet a young man. We cannot change the past but we can redeem it, transcend it. You are doing that daily! You are the arms, the hands of the divine in the lives of many people. Your sister gave you the gift to give to others. Her death was not in vain. The greatest healers/teachers are often those who are wounded. They truly “know.”
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I must tell you Rob that when I first began reading this entry I began to fear for your safety, I thought that with your involvement with the Priest the out come would be different. Having said that, I’ll say this: what you are doing now is something you should be doing. You were meant to be a doctor. Always.
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The nice thing about God is that He leaves His memory at the door… He forgets what we’ve done wrong in our lives, and just keeps on loving us, no matter what. I’ve had times in my life as well, where I’ve forgotten to check in with Him… but then when I’ve finally come to my senses, He’s right there… been there all along. Nice entry! 🙂
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*wipes eyes* HUGS
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what a coincidence. Mere minutes ago, I finished an entry on MY crisis of Faith.
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Nah, keep it. It was a shoe-in before you started. Use it to buy a pair of boxers. You never know when an extra pair will come in handy.
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This entry brought back so many memories of my own faith struggle. At this point in my life, I don’t believe in a God. I wish I did, because life would be so much simpler for me. I do believe in the power of love, that love can cross boundaries and time, and that my wish, my care for another human being can bring healing into the world. With that, I reach into my heart and ask the universe to touch your friend’s family. I send thoughts of healing and courage and strength to them. I send wishes that there be good doctors and nurses with the knowledge neccessary to care for them. I ask that there be people in their life to support them through this difficult time and I hope, for you, that you find your peace with God, in whatever form God takes for you. Take care.
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I’ll join you, dear.
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My guess is the response that was offered to you was, “Welcome home son, I’ve been wanting to tell you how proud of you that I am…please, pull up a chair and let’s talk for a while.” I can’t tell you how close to home this entry hit. I am need of a visit myself.
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RYN: *DIES LAUGHING* You killed me. I hope you feel bad. *grin*
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What your sister is experiencing now is infinitely better than what she would ever experience on this earth. If you were able to ask her today whether she would rather be on earth or where she is right now, she would probably look at you as if you had three heads. She is in the presence of God forevermore. What you prayed for her was not what was best for her. She no longer has to deal with the wretchedness of this world. I’m jealous of her. God answers every prayer … sometimes the answer is yes and sometimes the answer is no. When Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemane right before His crucifixion He asked God to “take this cup from me, yet not as I will, but as You will.” God’s silent answer to His Son was no. You must go through with it. He answers according to His will. Jesus remained faithful after the “no” answer, and we must to if we expect to be blessed by God.
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I love you. You know that.
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