God...as I see Him.

Disclaimer: I may say something that you don't agree with it. These are my own personal feelings, and I do not mean to offend anyone, because I believe that spirituality is a very personal, individual thing.

I wasn't raised going to church. My dad was raised Catholic, and my mother raised to make up her own mind about religion. My parents decided to not force any one set of beliefs down my throat, but they were open to me going to church with relatives, later with friends, and asking questions about and exploring beliefs as I grew up. There was never a time when I didn't believe in God, but there were times when He was different things to me. As a young girl, I had nightmares a lot (and ended up in bed with my parents, A LOT!), and I also remember that as I got older, I began to sleep with a small Bible under my pillow when I was scared, but didn't want to leave my own bedroom. God was a protector to me. As a pre-teen I talked to God daily, and during that whirlwind of emotions, God was a friend. I strayed a few times away from the paths that I am sure were not the best ones for me, and I got angry a few times at God because I wasn't sure where he was when I needed Him, or why sometimes bad things happened to me or people I loved. My dog had internal bleeding and had to be put down. My young, vibrant cousin died of leukemia at age 25. My Nan (grandmother) died after a horrible struggle with a brain tumor, while the family held her hand. My brand-new puppy got out of the backyard and hit by a car, and I found him on my way to work. I am sure these are all somewhat familiar things, and while I was angry at God, I still believed in Him.

I believe in miracles. If you have ever been around my older son, Matthew, you have been around a miracle. Matthew's story is a long one, and I will not tell all the details in this post (nor can I ever even think about it without tearing up!), but I had a condition called fetomaternal hemorrhage. There are no risk factors, very few symptoms, and it is almost never caught in time to do any good. "Secondary to the resultant anemia, fetomaternal hemorrhage may have devastating consequences for the fetus such as neurologic injury, stillbirth, or neonatal death, "                                           ( http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20410781).  Fetomaternal hemorrhage occurs in one in every one thousand pregnancies, or 0.3% of the time. Not only did I notice the dramatic decrease in my son's activity level, but my OBGYN caught the condition in time. Matthew was born 5 weeks early. He was not breathing. He was white. He had lost 2/3 of his total blood volume, and would require 3 blood transfusions over the next 24 hours, a ventilator, and 9 days in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. My special baby could not be held until he was 3 days old, and when I did get to take him home, he could not leave the house for 6 weeks because his immune system was weak. I was warned that I may see some delays. Matthew had not a single developmental delay. He crawled, talked, walked not only on schedule, but ahead of it. He is bright, capable and athletic. The only remnant from his miracle entry into this world is asthma-likely because of underdeveloped lungs. Matthew is a God thing. Literally. That child was planned, prayed about, and prayed for continuously. When I feel low, I think that God must have it under control because not only did I get Matt, but also Isaiah to be a mother to-and that has to matter-a lot!

I have been in a handful of very different churches, from Catholic to Pentecostal, Baptist and Nazarene. I have not been in awhile. Part of it is the schedule my family keeps (time with boys and time without), but part of it is finding the "right" fit. I don't know if there is one. I feel church is valuable because it is time to worship with fellow believers. I have never liked though how everyone seems perfect. I don't feel God there-though I'm sure He must be, I'm just saying I don't feel Him. It bothers me that the important (though human) things are rarely touched on. Why is it that more churches don't talk about healthy marriages, what it feels like to come through a divorce, and sex? Yes, sex. Why is it avoided, instead of talked openly about. Why does the church facilitate even more taboo and shame over things that people are already struggling with?? Most people are interested in how to apply God's word to the tough things in life. If churches want to have more people attend, they should spend more time talking about application than about the sinful nature of man, more time actually ministering to the needs of people than just saying they do. You want teens to wait to have sex? TALK about it! Openly, honestly and without shame. You want healthy marriages? TALK about the things that go on behind closed doors: money issues, sexual hurts, addictions and vices. Am I being too bold when I profess that the God I know, would be okay with that?

 I feel God when I am in nature, when I look at the stars, and when I watch the ocean waves. I feel him when I watch my boys play, reflect on the close relationship that I have with my mom and dad, and when my husband grins. I don't mean for that to be blasphemous, but that's when I see God. I saw Him in the students I taught, especially the ones that didn't quite fit in, but that were becoming adults in their own right. I see God in my heart, I talk about Him to my kids. I see God in the heart-wrenching, soul-searching events that plague us on this journey called life. Isn't that a likely place for Him to be?

What is God to you? Where do you see Him?