Finding Faith

First, let me say, thanks for reading, everyone! I know this can be a difficult topic to read but I appreciate the support. A little note about my typos. I write as the words come to me. I'm not a writer by trade, but I do my best. I have not edited my work because it's terribly difficult to get through most of  my entries without tears and it takes some courage on my part to even begin to write. Eventually, maybe I will be have the strength to go back and edit, but reading my own story over and over again is torture right now. So please be patient and forgiving.

I was brought up in a very welcoming church. I went to Sunday school until about the seventh grade, when it became "uncool" and quite frankly, boring. I was confirmed in my church and participated in various musical groups within my church. I tried to find my faith and my relationship with God within those walls. When I left for college, I kind of distanced myself from my church. I was changing and evolving and so was my church. I spent years trying to figure out my relationship with God. Finally I became a Christmas and Easter only member of my church and my spirituality became something very personal to me. If you asked me what I believe in, I would struggle to put it in to words.
While I was in the hospital, I asked openly, why was God doing this to me? What had I done to deserve this? Jill, our nurse, took a quiet moment to address this. She said God isn't mad and he didn't chose this either, it just happened. I looked at the cross on her neck and wondered where she got her faith from. I had a choice, I could be angry with God and let my foundation and beliefs go, or I could see this as an opportunity to learn and watch my faith grow. Being angry was the easy way. Did I get angry? At times, yes! I would ask, why me? The answer would come back, why not me? I would never wish this pain on anyone. It fell on me and I would persevere. I am lucky enough to have a strong partner and a loving family. We would come through.
While I was on vacation, I was reading a book by Theresa Caputo (yes, the Long Island medium). It was given to me as a gift and my iPad was being used by my husband to play some games, so I figured it was a good time waster. Whether or not you believe she can talk to dead people, her view on God and our souls is interesting and insightful. It was nice to read and got me thinking about my own faith.
Shortly after Fi died, I began praying, almost begging, daily. I wanted reasons, I wanted peace, I wanted the pain to go away. Then my prayers changed. I began to say thankful prayers. I began to see the positives in my days. I would still ask for peace, strength and hope.
A bible verse came to my mind last week during a quiet moment. "For God so loved the world, he gave his only son." I now understand what that sacrifice meant. Before, I couldn't fathom what that pain felt like. However, here I am, without my daughter. God and I have something in common. He too is part of the bereaved parents club. He understands my despair but I truly believe he will help me find my joy again.
We have been lucky to receive so many blessings in the wake of our tragedy. Before we lost Fi, I would have seen them as coincidence but now I know that it's not coincidence. It's God and my precious guardian angel sending us good things.