I was driving down Chambers headed toward the hospital. It was early morning and I was on my way to see baby Bo. I’d just dropped Cael off at daycare. It was a spring day in 2019 and I was in an ok mood but I could not find anything worth listening to on the radio. Listening to petty arguments for the sake of entertainment, or the latest celebrity gossip just didn’t feel like a worthy distraction. How could people be talking about this crap when my baby was in the hospital? So I switched my radio over to K-Love. Yes, a Christian radio station. A song was playing called Confidence by Sanctus Real. The chorus of this song goes, “Give me strength like Daniel in the lions den; give me hope like Moses in the wilderness. Give me a heart like David, lord be my defense so I can face my giants with confidence.” and YES, that is the message I was needing to hear. I needed confidence that day. I needed to be strong for Bo and I needed to be his defense. What I was needing in those moments and still today was faith.
This blog entry has been on my heart for quite a while. I’ve started it and re-started it a million times; Moreso than my other entries because it really meant getting to the roots of my faith and defining it more than I have in the past. I was born and raised Jewish and while not a strict Jewish household, the only times I missed school for anything other than illness was to attend services for the High Holy days of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. I attended religious school on Saturday mornings and later, on Monday and Wednesday nights as I prepared to become a Bat Mitzvah. For those that may not know, at Bat Mitzvah (or Bar Mitzvah for boys) is a Jewish coming-of-age ceremony in which the subject leads the congregation in worship to become an “adult” in the eyes of the community. It takes months of preparation to learn the proper Hebrew prayers, and Torah portion you will read. You also write a speech about what your Torah portion means to you and your life and how you plan to take ownership of your Jewish education going forward. And it is importantly followed by an awesome party.
For me, becoming a Bat Mitzvah was finally the end of my Jewish education. You see, I never liked religious school and I never connected with any of the other youth I attended with, despite seeing the same kids and being in the same class as most of them for YEARS. While my friends played soccer on Saturdays, I was at religious school. Then all my friends were at church on Sundays. I love my family and I loved seeing my 2nd cousins at the bigger holiday celebrations when I was a child, but I just never fit in with the greater Jewish youth I spent my Saturday mornings with. I tried Jewish youth group as a teen and my wayward and promiscuous attitude has me swiftly removed from a retreat one year, and later I was told told that I just didn’t fit in with them. The fact is, my whole youth I felt rejected by the Jewish community. For them, I was just never “Jewish” enough; I guess.
Despite the tribulations, I never DIDN’T have faith in a higher power. I was often moved by the prayers we sang during services and my favorite part of religious school was doing a short Saturday service and singing the songs that taught us about God. Traditions and ritual still resonate with me today and in today’s time, I would be referred to as a “cultural Jew”. I am culturally Jewish, albeit, not religious Jewish. But even that isn’t totally true- Chris and I were married by a Rabbi, we have a Ketubah (a Jewish marriage contract) hanging in our dining room and I am trying my darndest to raise the boys with knowledge of God and hope that they can embrace Judaism in a way I wasn’t able to when I was younger.
Currently, faith lies somewhere in between that of “Jewish” and Christian”; yet I hate defining it that way. I believe with all my might in a powerful and kind God. One who will look out for you if you believe. I’ve often held the belief that if you do good, good will come to you. I’ve had spiritual conversations with both the Rabbi at the temple I grew up in, but also with the Pastor of the church where I work as a pre-school teacher. I believe that God has been good to me, and blessed me with a wonderful and incredible life. I believe that Bowen’s medical challenges have helped me grow as a mom, as a woman and as a wife. I believe that it has given me a purpose. I also believe in karma which is a Buddhist tenant; yet I cannot come to terms with having a “savior” in the Christian sense. The facts to me, and in my life say that NO ONE saved me. I saved myself. I pulled myself out of the darkest depths of major depression and post-partum depression. God and my family gave me the tools to do such, but I cannot say that anyone saved me. To me, it diminishes my hard work that has lead to my incredible life and finding purpose in my life.
In a recent conversation with a pastor, he brought a concept to me that feels right, but challenged my previous notion of “do good, receive good.” Josh discussed that God never promised an easy life if you believed in him. He never said we would be without trials and difficulties by giving him our faith and our love. He simply said that he would be there with us and (as this was a Christian-based conversation) that by Jesus dying on the cross, it was proof that even when things are as bad as torture and death, his resurrection showed the world that you can over come it. Nothing in life is so bad that you cannot overcome it through (maybe) your own form of resurrection, or finding a new way of doing things.
Judaism does teach that God punishes evil and rewards good. Jewish tenants are a little more simple in that we believe there is one God, he is the creator of the world and that we shall live by his commandments. Generally speaking, Judaism is focused on our actions and our relationships more so than existential thinking and beliefs on afterlife etc.
My journey to faith has not been linear nor is it set. I’ve had tremendous growth in my faith since Bowen but it was there before him too. Having children truly changed my life and I do thank God for that. I do think that each and every parent- especially those with SN kiddos- have to find a “why”. I say that because everyone deserves closure and a path to mourn the life you thought you’d have and eventually accept the life you have been given. Personally, a deep faith in God and relationship with Him and given me that.
There is a deep sense of peace that comes with giving my troubles up to someone else. I feel like I have had to, because some decisions about Bowen have been outside my control. I have had no choice but to trust the doctors and medical teams that care for him. I have had to give up control of many things but I’ve felt the need to put that control elsewhere so I’ve turned to God. Praying is something I can control. In my most vulnerable moments, prayer has been all I can manage. I can control my thoughts about bad situations and I can hope and believe that some of my inner voice is God guiding me to comfort in the hardest moments.
My husband is not a prayer. He is a “distraction” guy- let him absorb his mind in something menial, funny or quirky so he can pass time quickly and not think. He spends hours on his phone, scrolling and scrolling, especially when Bowen has his procedures and we have to be in the hospital. He is not a fan of hospitals and they give him anxiety. He has seen everything from pre-hospital care as a Paramedic, to the inner workings of emergency heart surgery when he worked as a tech for Children’s Hospital Colorado. He knows the good, the bad and the ugly of everything Bowen has gone through. And for him, I think, digging deep just isn’t part of the process. But we talk about where we are with things as they come up, and sometimes we revisit them once the dust settles on the matter at hand. He respects my need for comfort in prayer and I respect his need for something else. For those that don’t believe, or don’t feel you have time for faith- I get it and I can respect any healthy coping mechanism that fits for your life.
I’ll begin to wrap things up by adding this. When Bowen was getting ready for his heart procedure, my oldest, who was 5 at the time, had seen me crying. As I tucked him into bed, he said it had made him sad to see my cry. He said he knew I was sad about Bowen’s surgery. He told me that he knew it would be ok because God was with me and Daddy would be with me. He told me he understood how I felt and that he felt scared too. He continued by saying that when he feels scared he takes a deep breath… maybe I could try to take a deep breath too. How could I not thank God for giving me a little boy who can tell his mama something like that?!
Faith and prayer might not be your answer, but what is? What got you through the unexpected hospital admissions? How do you cope with the unknown, the sleepless nights and the frustrations that come with the SN world? Leave a comment and I’d love to hear your story of faith or otherwise!
CREDIT: Sara Mihalyi
Somewhere In Between 