Growing up, I believed in God. My family went to church on a regular basis, and not only for the Big days – Easter and Christmas. To say the least, I never thought to question God’s existence. As I’ve grown older, my faith did not sway, although my efforts diminished.
After being in a tragic accident, I thanked God for saving my life. I thanked the doctors and the nurses, my family and friends for their support, and the strangers whose names I will never know. Once able, I returned to church. I prayed for the safety of those who my life had been touched by.
Today, I am still struggling through my recovery. Although I am unaware of the moment my beliefs shifted, at some point they did. At some point I came to the realization that not once have I felt God’s comfort or warmth. My brother explained to me, “You’re not going to get a sign, if that’s what you’re looking for.” Perhaps, at times, that’s just what I wanted; but I know better. Still, I find myself hurting, searching for that comfort we find when we have something to believe in.