Faith May Not Be What You Think It Is

So, I'm really open you'll expand your thoughts about what faith means on this one. I realize that many could read the above quote and think I'm coming from a religious place, but this quote actually means SO MUCH MORE to me.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I did come across this quote during a class I've decided to take at church. Going to church has become extremely important to my oldest daughter and in an effort to support her, I go with her every Sunday.

And I've liked it, for the most part. I was a church-goer when Brad was alive because he was a very devout Presbyterian. After he died, I had a hard time going - not because I was angry but because I just couldn't sit still.

I've felt guilty about it because it was so important to him. So about 8 years later I tried taking the kids again. Their reluctance along with my feeling that I didn't belong eventually led to us sleeping in on Sunday mornings.

The church that my daughter started going to recently offered a class that is designed to answer questions people might have about God - whether you doubt, you want a deeper connection, or you just want to meet new people. This last year or so, I've found myself in a very "seeking" stage in my life. So, I signed up.

The first session was this morning and it was HEAVY. I didn't expect that. But now that I think about it - it makes sense. After all, if you're a doubter that probably means that something happened along the way that made you doubt - and that something could be some sort of trauma.

So, that's the backstory on this quote. I went to the class, got the workbook, came home and opened it up to this page. And while in the context of the book it's probably considered religious, that's not how I interpreted it.

FAITH as I know it

I've had a lot of questions over the years about how to "get through" widowhood and I know that everyone reading this is in their own individual space. And while I will be "getting through" widowhood for the rest of my life, I have come to have faith in the process.

Because I have faith in myself.

I will never fully understand why my husband died. But what I do understand is that that event has led me down a very meaningful and life-changing path - BECAUSE I CHOSE TO LET IT.

Since then, I am very aware of the events in my life as they're happening and recognizing in the moment that I don't fully understand the "why," but I have faith that it will make sense or come together as part of my personal puzzle. 

That's because I'm looking for it.

Years ago, when I was so plagued with anxiety I could barely leave my house, I remember my therapist asking me, "Do you understand why this is necessary?"

I immediately answered, "Yes."

That time in my life was so unbearable, but even in the moment I had faith that I needed it in some way; that some day, maybe even years later, that process was necessary.

Now, ideally, I would have rather had the self-awakening that I've had and still have my husband by my side and not be on anti-anxiety medication. But that didn't happen. The best I can do is take the situation and do something with it, whether it's on a larger scale or just being able to sit down with a friend and have a cup of coffee and understand her pain.

Making sense of it

"Making sense in reverse" is not something that just happens. It is something that takes a LOT of effort and self-reflection for each of us. But I think that's the ONE PIECE that makes the difference between unbearable grief and meaningful grief.

It's not looking back and always answering that "why" question; it's reflecting and thinking about what has happened, having a moment of peace with it, and then determining what you will do with it.

How has it changed you?

Is there a purpose behind it?

Where do you go from there?

So, while each person might take something different from this quote and define "faith" in their own way, I believe that faith is entirely about YOU. You are the faith you have in yourself. And if it helps to believe that God is assisting you, I get it. 

But on the other hand...He couldn't do it without you.

I'm Choosing to Live the Unlived Life

I was recently listening to Oprah's interview with Steven Pressfield about his book The War of Art and that prompted me to write an article for my business about his quote: "Put your ass where your heart wants to be."

In other words, show up.

Love it.

I was looking online for the exact quote to use for the article and another one caught my eye.

And that one made me stop.

In the widow community, one of the main questions we struggle with is how to move forward, move on, move somewhere (however you like to put it). Grief is a scary place and WE. WANT. OUT. I think that's the main reason we seek others to help us with our grief and find others who seem to have made it out the other side. We want proof that it's possible.

Whether you've lost a spouse or not, there's always a life unlived within us. There's always a path we didn't take, a choice that shaped who we are. Loss or not, that is something we all share.

I feel like the loss of my husband awakened things within me that I had no idea were there. Sure, in the beginning everything was too blurry to see the forest for the trees. But as things began to clear and my mind started working again, I realized there was more to me than this loss. Actually, there was more to me than just being his wife, which was something I was content to be before he died.

Even as I drove home from the hospital, suddenly involuntarily single, I KNEW my life wasn't going to center around this loss. Granted, it's taken me a lot longer than I had hoped to really get my life and be at peace with it (and that doesn't mean I don't have nights when I still cry myself to sleep). But the outcome has been more than I hoped for 12 years ago.

I'm living a fulfilling life that I might not have lived had things been different.

I'm not saying that widowhood is something I enjoy. Far from it. But it was so jarring and made EVERYTHING so completely different that I had not choice but to change.

Where I could take control was how I was going to change.

I'm living what could have been the unlived life. I'm AWAKE because of this tragedy. But that was something I chose to be and every day I think about who I could have been if I'd made a different choice.

I'm ready to live the unlived life I know is within me.

My Darkest Moments and A Battle Won

I just posted this image on Facebook and I have to admit that I just posted it because I loved the part about never letting anyone see your darkest moments. That really spoke to me.

The funny thing is that I posted it because I liked it, but in the last few hours I've realized how much it actually DOES apply to me right now.

I know you might think this little celebration I'm quietly having sounds ridiculous, but if you lived in my head you'd know how truly significant it is. I just got back from taking the kids to Disneyland and Universal Studios, a trip that I surprised them with on Christmas morning. I'm tired of giving my kids stuff just to give them stuff and I'd rather give us all an experience that we can share.

About two months ago I went into a travel agency to book the trip. I really wanted to do it over their winter break from school so it wouldn't be like, "Merry Christmas! Here's your present. We're going on a trip in 6 months." I wanted to do it pretty quickly after they opened the present.

Now, some of you have been on this journey with me long enough to remember that when my book was published in 2014, I suffered from crippling anxiety - the kind that just about had me housebound. I couldn't go to the movies, go to a restaurant, sitting in traffic was terrifying to me...basically anything that made me feel remotely trapped made me lose my breath, get so dizzy I could barely stand, and generally made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack and throw up at the same time.

Classic panic disorder.

I still have some problems flying, which I'm working on, and sitting in the middle of a crowded theater is something I still dread. I'm probably the only person who was lucky enough to score tickets to Hamilton who actually regretted going.

So, I didn't realize how booking a trip to Disneyland over the New Year would be so monumental.

Stupid, right? I mean, I was excited that we would be ringing in the New Year at the foot of the Disney castle - why didn't it occur to me that a million other people would have the same idea?

I had a few moments at the beginning of the day on New Year's Eve when I didn't feel great, but I worked through it. But at about 3 PM as I was standing in line for a ride and heard someone say that the part was AT CAPACITY, I realized that I had overcome a major hurtle.

Me - this woman who couldn't even sit and sit across from someone at a table in a crowded restaurant because she felt like she would start screaming - was standing in the middle of an hour-long line for a fast-moving ride in a park that was so full you could barely move.

Me. I did that.

Four years ago, I truly thought my life was over. Really. That realization was almost worse than the panic attacks. I suddenly saw the future I thought I was going to have - traveling, going to the theater, being out with friends, having a meaningful career - go away and a solitary future sitting in a home that I was scared to leave was what I thought I was going to be left with.

Right now, I'm typing this completely exhausted, but elated. I did something that five years ago I thought I would never be able to do. I faced all of these enormous fears I've had for years and I'm okay. I even texted my therapist midway and said, "I think Disneyland is the ultimate immersion therapy. I can't believe all that I've accomplished in the last few days."

So, like the quote says, I've got this. And maybe no one will truly know how important all of this has been for me because I haven't let them see me in my darkest moments. But that's okay.

I'm winning the battle anyway.