Over the last year, I’ve arrived at many crossroads and series of firsts. The first time something big happened in my life (I graduated college) and my grandma wasn’t around to see it. Whether or not certain friendships were healthy for me in the place of my life I was in. The list goes on and on.
One major crossroad that I’m still standing before is the question of faith and especially what faith means to me after losing my loved one.
I was raised Catholic and went through all the necessary sacraments, but I don’t think I’ve really explored what that faith means to me until now.
This time last year, I was literally in a hospital chapel praying to God, alone. Just asking him to help my grandma. Sitting there alone is something that I realized was incredibly important to me.
So much of my interactions with faith and the higher ups were associated with my family or a larger community, that it was intimidating for me to sit there alone and have a conversation with Him. Slowly but surely I’ve come to this place where I’m way more comfortable being alone with God and a lot of it has to do with writing.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get to a place where I can sit in Church every Sunday and not get lost in the prayers and songs. I am working on getting to a place, though, where I can have a quiet moment to just pray in my own way. Something I’ve happily accepted is that prayer, and those one-on-one moments with God, are all unique.
I don’t pray the same way someone else does. This is okay.
For me, writing is the best way to talk to God. I concentrate so much more when I’m writing than when I’m praying out loud and ultimately it’s helped me find even more peace in my writing.
Like I said at the beginning of this post, this isn’t a crossroads I’ve figured out or even made it onto the path of. I’m at the very beginning, but for now I’m okay with that.