There have been times that we go through periods in our lives where we have no connection with the faith that we were brought up in. Some may not have even been raised with a particular faith base at all. There are a number of reasons that faith is challenged, however, I will not go into that here- not today.
My faith has been tested on more that one occasion and I wonder if there really is a higher power. The first experience came when the Catholic Church, yes I’m Catholic, wouldn’t allow my son to be enrolled in the confirmation class. They told me my son would have to wait another year, enroll in the class that would be a two-year program (instead of one), and we should have registered sooner. The parish woman explained that this was because we were one day late in registering even though there was still room in the class. I should have seen this in the bulletin handed out in Sunday service. (She was less than friendly and not very Christian about much of anything.) Now I am not one to have ever gone to church every Sunday. My mother never took us each Sunday as I grew up, so I am by no means a regular. I would however, make sure that my child was christened and confirmed. I felt it was my duty to at least provide him with the foundation. After this interaction with the parish and the ridicule by the church for not attending regularly, my feelings toward the church hasn’t been very favorable and my son is still only christened. Unless he decided to further his faith in the Catholic Church, he will forever only be christened. The church can thank the woman on the phone for losing one more family of parishioners.
The second experience was during my father’s hospital stay before his death. I received a call that he was going into the hospital and that I needed to come home. I drove up to the hospital to find my father in ICU. He was hooked up to all kinds of machines, tubes, and breathing apparatuses. I had never seen him like that and it was a real scare. He wasn’t very responsive and hardly opened his eyes at all. I stayed with my father one night for countless hours, beyond the time the rest of my family stayed and until the time that the nurses told me I had to leave. I wasn’t sure if I should pray for a quick recovery or if praying wouldn’t do anything at all. I didn’t know what to do. All I wanted was for him to be able to gain more strength and get out of the hospital again. That night, while sitting by the side of my fathers hospital bed, my father opened his eyes, reached for my hand and we came to what seemed like a final understanding with one another. All that had been said or done over the years had been forgiven in that moment and a weight had been lifted between us. It was what we both needed.
The next morning he started to regain strength, enough to be moved out of ICU within a couple days. I don’t know if it was a higher power helping or if it was determination on his part because two months later I lost my father. No matter how much one prayed for recovery, circumstances outweighed anything faith could restore.
I am not a spiritual person and my faith is only a foundation. It is love that brought the final days between us closer and forever I will be thankful for that moment in time with my father.
In response to the Daily Prompt: In Good Faith