I’d just like to start this off by saying this post talks about my religious beliefs and I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. I would also like to make sure you’re aware that I won’t judge anyone for their beliefs, whether you’re Buddhist, Muslim, any form of atheism, and so on, because no matter what you’re still a person and entitled to your own belief system. But that’s not the reason for this post, so here it goes.
Have you ever had an “Ah-ha” moment, where something just seems to click and certain things start making sense? Last Sunday I had one of those moments.
I was at church and something my preacher said made me recognize it was when I was at my worst, when I thought the God I was raised to believe in me had abandoned me, that He was carrying me through the hell I was living in. I used to write every night (all night) and for a while, when things began to get really bad, I even wrote down my prayers. I would beg God to help me, to help me get better, to take away all of the pain and suffering I was going through and save me from my mind, or save me from me. When things seemed to continually get worse I started losing my faith because why would this great and powerful God allow one of the children He’s supposed to love go through so much pain? Despite this I still held onto Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Eventually, when I thought I couldn’t go on any longer, when I was ready to end it all, my psychiatrist determined that I had bipolar disorder, called me on my bullshit, and found a combination of medications that kept me mostly stable. He also found an amazing therapist who I clicked with immediately. With their helped I defied all odds. I somehow managed to graduate high school, hold down a job, and, even though I have to go part time to be successful, I’m going to college and for the most part I’m doing well at it despite working full time and dealing with my mental illnesses.
When I was at church that Sunday it hit me that even though my prayers weren’t answered the way I expected or wanted, they were still answered. He is the reason I found the perfect people to help me, He is the reason I was able to survive, He carried me through and gave me strength when I was at my weakest. All that time that I thought He wasn’t there or that He didn’t care it was Him who kept me alive.
I love the Footprints poem and feel as though it really relates to what I went through.
“The Lord replied, ‘My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.'”