I was brought up in a Catholic household. My sisters and I attended Catholic school every Sunday from about the age of 5 to about the age of 15, and my family has been participating in church since as long as I can remember.
When I was younger, I never really questioned God and His existence, but my view of Him is quite different to that of when I was a child. Years ago, adults would tell me of His selfless acts and I believed. They would tell me of sins to never commit and I obeyed. I had this belief that if I trusted in God and conformed to His demands, my life would be full of joy and peace. But it wasn’t.
Around 10 years old, I began to rely on God. My grandmother on my father’s side became ill. For months, she moved back and forth between the nursing home and the hospital. I found myself crying in bed at night praying to God. All I asked was for Him to save her so that she could be there when I graduate, when I say I do, when I hold my baby in my arms for the first time. But my prayers weren’t answered. On November 17, 2009, she passed away.
That day, at 12 years old, I began to doubt God. Where was He? Why did He not answer my prayers? I called for Him every night, but I felt no reassurance, no hope. After, my attitude towards my religion began to change. I began questioning God’s love for His “children”, the purpose of our lives here on Earth, and the existence of Heaven.
As years passed, I was becoming more disconnected with my religion. I no longer looked towards God for answers, but rather relied on myself to solve my own problems. I began to dread going to church, trying to get out of it any way I could. I sat in the far back of the room at Sunday school, often times doodling in my notebook or staring out the window.
Around 16 years old, my doubt began to turn to anger. I was struggling with life. I was a wallflower at school, keeping my nose in my books and my desk away from others’; But things were no better at home. Multiple relatives passed away, including my other grandma. One of my sisters was in an unhealthy relationship and would not listen to reason. My other two sisters were always out hanging with friends and having a good time. And me? I barricaded myself in my bedroom, pretending the outside world didn’t exist.
Church was the worst part of it all. The second I walked into the building, anger flared up inside me. Often times, I slipped my headphones on during the dissertation and listened to music. Other times, I was forced to listen to the pastor drone on about God’s greatness. I found myself rolling my eyes whenever he said to “trust in God” or “believe in our Lord, Jesus Christ”. Because I did believe in Him. I relied on Him. And I still suffered great misfortunes.
Back then, questions filled my mind. If God is as great as everybody claims Him to be, why am I suffering? Why are my loved ones being taken away from me? Why do people always let me down? Why is it so hard for me to motivate myself to do anything? If life is as amazing and joyful and thrilling as everybody claims it to be, why do I want to end mine?
I am 19 years old now, and I have begun to forgive God. After high school graduation, I decided I needed to make a change in my life. This anger and resentment I have been holding on to for so many years has poisoned my relationship with not only my friends, but also my family.
Near the end of summer, my family attended a get-together hosted by our church. During the celebration, I broke away from the crowd and stepped inside the church. I slowly made my way toward the stage and sat down in one of the nearby chairs.
It was the first time I had attempted to pray in years. I was trying to think about what to say, how to start asking for forgiveness, how to accept the past and move on, but no words came to me. And before I could stop myself, I started crying. And while I didn’t say anything, I felt a heaviness lift from my heart, and I knew God was there next to me, comforting me.
Since that day, I have made an attempt to better my life. I am attending college to pursue a degree in Creative Writing. On a whim, I joined my college’s softball team, and as a result, became friends with an incredible group of girls. And my relationship with my family is stronger than ever. While I am still struggling to cope with and understand some parts of my past, I know that with God by my side, I am strong and can overcome any obstacle that comes my way. It’s just like my pastor said. You just need to trust in God.
