What is Faith?

I was raised Catholic. I remember going to church every Sunday as a family. We would put on our “best clothes”, climb into the station wagon and off we would go. The mass always felt very long, and I usually didn’t understand half of what they were preaching. I know that I was baptized, and I had my first communion, but I never went beyond that. Back in the day, attending church was not a choice one was given. It was just what we did as a family. That being said, I have a memory of being about 10 or 11 years old and being told that I could choose to go to church or not go. I chose not to go. I don’t recall getting an argument back from my parents for my choice, but I believe that was because my parents were divorcing. There was so much happening within our family, that faith wasn’t in the forefront anymore. I wasn’t upset about that at all. I didn’t feel the “pull” to attend mass. I have to be honest and say that I am not one to fully understand the Catholic faith, but that is on me, no one else. It was just never something that I felt I wanted to pursue further. Perhaps that is because I never really felt the depth of faith that others do. I have many people in my life that have extremely strong faith, and it serves them well. Perhaps if I had been one of those people, I wouldn’t be struggling with what I was raised to believe. God is great, and God is good and kind, and God loves you. Three little phrases, with so much power.

There are two definitions for the word Faith. The religious definition is “strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based of spiritual apprehension, rather than proof.” The other definition is “complete trust or confidence in someone or something.” When I read the two, I realize that the type of “faith” I have, is the complete trust or confidence in someone or something. The religious definition leaves me with more questions than answers.

Honestly, I have never really given this much thought, until my child died. I emphasize “my child” because that is who he is. Those with a strong faith base have told me he is a child of God first. This comment creates even more struggles and questions for me. I have questioned so much about God and my religious faith, or lack of it, since Noah died.

“God is great.” At the point that I am at with the loss of Noah and facing grief in the face everyday, I find that extremely hard to believe. If God is so great, why would he take my child? People have told me that we are all God’s children, and he has a “plan” for each and every one of us. How often do we hear “we just don’t know how much time we have.” To me, that means that I have no idea how long I will live, not that I have no idea when God will decide when my time is up. The people that believe that it is all in God’s hands, have true religious faith, but what if you aren’t where they are? What if you struggle every day with that question? I find it really difficult to accept that a higher power has the right to take a child from their parent. Everyone, and I mean everyone, says that no parent should ever have to bury their child, but so many do. I am one of them.

“God is good and kind.” In my world he isn’t. If he was good and kind, which would probably also include caring and compassionate, he wouldn’t have let Noah die. He would have known how it would devastate me, along with family and friends. That is not what kind humans do, and according to my upbringing, he was a human. If this is truth, then it makes absolutely no sense to me at all. I am imagining by now that the truly faithful are possibly thinking that I don’t understand. Well, they would be right, I don’t.

“God loves you.” This is probably the toughest one of all for me. I love many people, and I would not do anything to intentionally hurt them or make them suffer. Interesting how the word suffer is there. The stories say that God suffered for us. Therefore, one would think that he would not want us to suffer ever, because he knows how painful it is. I am in a hell that is wracked with suffering, and it is painful and it is exhausting. It is called grief. If He loves me, why is He okay with this? If He truly loves me, why is it okay that I have to carry a broken heart and feel the pain of that? If He loves me, why do I feel more like he is punishing me? I actually asked Noah one night before I went to sleep that if he truly was with God, is He punishing me by telling you not to visit me in my dreams? Is he upset that I didn’t follow the path that was laid out for me by my parents? Is He disappointed that I didn’t take you down the path with me? I am sure by now, if you are still reading, you may think I sound a bit, or a lot crazy and that’s okay. Most would probably not understand many of the thoughts and questions I have around Noah’s death either. The religious aspect of “Faith” is not concrete for me. Much of it makes no sense at all in my mind, and what I was raised to believe, is not what I am believing today. Religion is complicated.

I have been told, on more than one occasion by a very dear friend, that I am “so damn logical.” Perhaps that is why I struggle with the religious aspect of “faith.” On the other hand, I absolutely understand the second definition, “complete trust or confidence in someone or something.” It makes total sense to me. I have complete trust and confidence in my family, in my friends, in my co-workers. I know that they are there for me, through the good and the bad. I know that they hate that I am grieving for my son. I know that should I fall, they will pick me up. I know that I could call them at any hour, should I need to talk. I know they would never punish me or intentionally hurt me. I know that they love me and accept me for the person I am today, with no strings attached. All of this I can confirm as being real. There is no complication.

I don’t know that I will ever have religious faith. Sometimes I honestly wish I did because then the bigger picture, whatever that is, would possibly make some sort of sense to me. Maybe if I did, I would feel more at peace with the events that have brought me to where I am today. If I did, maybe I wouldn’t have such feelings of anger towards the God I was raised to believe in. I have had people with faith try to explain it all to me. As hard as they try, I still cannot wrap my brain or heart around it. Perhaps, at this point in my life, I am too closed off for that. They say time heals. Maybe it will heal my heart that is angry and broken, and I will one day understand it all. I guess I just have to have faith that it will happen, someday.