Silvia's Faith Journey- Part 4

Here we go everyone! Part four. If you got through part three, thanks for hanging in there! Part four is about some of those little glimpses of God even before I would recognize that it was Him. There were many, but I thought I would share a couple. No tissues required this time around!

Sometimes it takes years to recognize the things that God places in our lives to get us through the hardships.  I was in a deep, deep valley of pain and darkness after Jared had been killed.  During that time there were two things that people told me that resonated with me.  One was said by my brother.  He told me that Ajay (my boyfriend in graduate school) was like my bronze medal and Jared was my gold medal, but there was still a silver medal out there.  While many people tried to offer encouragement with words like “time heals all wounds,” it did not comfort me because the contrast was too jarring.  I was bleeding out heavily from that wound, how would time heal it?  What my brother offered me was different.  It was the truth of my reality but framed in a way to try to also offer hope.   I had lost my gold medal and he knew that it was unlikely that anyone would ever measure up the same way, that I would have to settle for a silver medal that was still great but not quite the same.  It turns out that was not how my story would end, God would redeem it in a magnificent way with my husband, but at the time, it was all I could see. 

The other statement was made by a friend.  He said, “There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but what they do not tell you is that the tunnel is curved so you cannot see the light. But, if you keep walking forward, at some point you will turn that corner and begin to see the light.”  This rang true.  All I could see was darkness.  I stumbled in it.  There was no light that I could discern, but to know that perhaps someday I would be able to hit that part of the curve where I had gotten just far enough to see a faint, soft glimmer of light gave me hope.  

Andy Stanley once preached on the Stockdale paradox.  He spoke about an interview that Jim Collins had with Admiral Jim Stockdale, a man who was in a POW camp for eight years.  When asked how he made it through Jim said, “I never lost faith in the end of the story.  I never doubted that not only I would get out, but also that I would prevail in the end and turn the experience into the defining event of my life, which, in retrospect, I would not trade.”  Later he would go on to say that the optimists were the ones who did not make it out because they would die of a broken heart.  The Stockdale Paradox came from the statement that he made:

You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end, which you can never afford to lose, with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever it might be. - Admiral Jim Stockdale

Although it would be a long time before I would ever hear about this paradox or even walk with God, reflecting back now I can see how it was helpful that I confronted what had happened.  I clung to the words of those who acknowledged the situation but also provided a sense of hope.  I needed to know that others understood the depths of my loss, because I knew I was fighting a great battle, but I did not know I would prevail.  All I knew was that I had to keep walking through it all.  I thought about suicide many times because the pain was overwhelming, but each time I would also think about how I could not inflict that kind of pain on my mom.  I did not have a relationship with God to help me through, but even when I did not realize it, God was working for me.

There were many ways in which God was moving, but I will share only a couple.

The first occurred when I returned home from Jared’s memorial service on the West Coast.  Melissa, my long-time college friend, happened to be in town for work for a couple of weeks.  As her time dwindled down on the East Coast, she told me that before she left town I had to get a counselor.  In my mind I thought, “That’s not going to happen,” but I told her I would look into it. Since I do not like to lie, and I knew she would ask if I found someone, I looked up a few counselors to reach out to.  Do not get me wrong, my level of effort was one of the most half-hearted attempts.  It was the lowest of efforts.  My plan was to call and do the bare minimum so I could honestly report back that I had tried without getting a counselor.  I called places and when inevitably the voicemail picked up, I hung up. “Tada!  There.  Done.  I reached out.  I tried and it was not my fault that no one was available.” 

But God.  He works when you least expect it.  Suddenly, my phone rang with an unknown number and I picked it up right away!  Kidding!  I let it go to voicemail like any normal person that does not want to deal with a spam call.  But it was not a telemarketer.  It turned out to be one of the counselors that I had called and hung up on without leaving a message.  Unlike me, she left a voicemail.  I listened to the message and heard her kind voice saying in a questioning and concerned tone, “Hi. I am not sure if you called my number by mistake or if you actually need help.  If you need help, please call me back.  I would love to help you.”  As soon as I heard that message, something in me knew I had to call her back.  I ended up seeing her that day.  

Stephanie, my counselor, was a petite Jewish woman who was warm and kind.  She was also firm and did not shy away from asking the hard questions that cut through my barriers and got to the heart of the issue.  The thing was she was completely wrong for me on paper.  She was not even a grief counselor but rather a counselor for girls with eating disorders, which I did not have.  But God gave me the person that I needed to help see me through.  In the end, over the years we did not talk about my grief as much as things in my life that were pressing heavily on me while I was trying to cope with the grief.  She helped me through the process of a sentencing hearing, careless comments made after Jared passed away, and dealing with a boss that had become emotionally abusive.

Years later I was leaving the city to move.  During our final session, I gave her a huge hug and thanked her for everything (I say that as if I did not give her a hug every time! I am a hugger by nature!).  I then told her that I would always remember why I came to her, and she said, “Really? Why did you come?”  I said, “Because you called me back even though I hung up on the voicemail and left no message.”  She said, “Are you sure I did that?  I NEVER do that.  Maybe I should start.”  

Some people say it is coincidence that this would come together like this, but I know better that it was God.  Had she been Christian, I never would have gone to her because I was so angry at Jesus.  Had I looked at qualifications, she would have been the wrong specialization.  But she was someone that would challenge me to look at reality more objectively, even when I just wanted someone to agree with me and feel bad for me.  She forced me to reconsider things.  She helped me get through the many fires I would experience.  She was the exact person I needed counsel from for the issues that I would eventually face.

The second story I will share was one I did not attribute to God for a long time.  To be honest, I gave all the credit to Jared.  About a month or two after I had returned to the East Coast, a huge, freak snowstorm went through the area.  The skies opened and dumped out so much snow that it paralyzed the city for a couple of days and everything shut down.  Eventually the snow subsided, and I was able to go outside and unbury my car with a snow shovel my neighbor let me borrow (he saw me trying to use a bucket and took pity on me!). 

Over the course of the next few days, the sun came out and the snow finally began to melt.  The only problem was that all that melted snow had to go somewhere.  It was on one of those mornings I would drag myself out of bed to go to work and when my feet hit the ground there was a distinct squish.  The bedroom carpet was completely soaked.  Apparently, the melted snow had found its way into my apartment and all the carpet in the bedroom and part of the living room was now flooded.  Thankfully, I had a great landlord who would come and help me as soon as possible, but in that moment, I felt so much despair.  How much more was I supposed to take?  I had no reserves to deal with this problem and I felt so left behind by Jared.  I shouted angrily to Jared, “If you really loved me, you would send me that necklace that I lost.”  I wanted him to prove that he was out there somewhere looking after me but a moment later, I apologized realizing that it was an impossible task.  You see, I had lost that necklace years before when I lived on the opposite side of the country.  Periodically, when I had lived in CA, I would search high and low for it with no luck.  Even when I moved, I combed through all my things hoping to run across it, but I never did.  It was gone for good.

I decided to try to find the source of the leak before my landlord stopped by and searched around the apartment to the sound of a wet, squishy carpet.  When I opened the door to closet located next to the front door, I saw that everything looked soaked from the top down.  I had found the entry point of all the water runoff.  I began the process of moving everything that was hanging in the closet before pulling down the boxes and bags that I had crammed up on the top shelf.  As I reached up to drag out my red duffle bag, I saw a silver blob hit the carpet.  I quickly set the bag down on the ground and went to inspect what had fallen out, and there it was.  The silver necklace that I had lost so long ago.  The one I had been shouting about moments before was now laying before my eyes, and I began to cry uncontrollably. 

In that moment, I needed to know that someone was watching over me because everything felt insurmountable, and this necklace was confirmation that someone was.  Though I thought for many years that Jared had sent me the necklace, I now realize that God had arranged it knowing that He would not receive any of the gratitude and glory.  It was a small moment that He knew I needed to get through that day, and believe me, it was day by day, and moment by moment living back then.  It would take me years for to thank God for that moment.  But here is the thing, at that time several years ago, I do not believe He was concerned about getting the recognition.  I think He simply wanted to take care of His child that had a broken heart.  He is always working even when we do not see it.