When I was first asked about my relationship with God while grieving, I was only about 7 months into my own grief.
I was learning how to pray for the first time.
I was learning how to be vulnerable with Jesus. And that He’s not just a “mural” or sculpture of a man hanging from a cross.
Jesus is alive. Very much alive.
And I can prove it.
I began my relationship with my God after my ten month old son, Bo William died in September 2015.
It took me cursing God and having nightmares that were less than settling for me to find the courage to ask for help.
And it wasn’t until I was asked,
“Have you prayed about it?”
That all I could do was sit there.
No! What the hell is praying going to do?
My son is gone and I’m going to waste time praying?
And then I let it sink it.
Days, (and possibly days) passed.
And here I was,
Googling how to pray.
How to be vulnerable.
I was positive that there had to be more to this agony than what I felt.
There had to be more to life than this.
This unbearable pain.
And one day, while I was alone and while my rainbow baby, River was sleeping.
I did it.
I prayed for the very first time.
And then I felt the pull to pray continuously.
Being led closer and closer to Him.
I had an endless curiousity in the Bible.
And the church that my sons funeral was at, it was being revealed to me that things I thought were the truth were not.
So I searched out a new church.
Drug my family along.
And fell in love.
Fell in love with Jesus.
I worked tirelessly at running an organization and searching Gods Word to learn new things everyday.
And it was on Bo’s second Birthday that I was baptized by full submersion baptism in Jesus Name. I spoke in tongues. And (perhaps) most importantly, I repented of all my horrible thoughts.
I began finding spiritual tools that helped me when my mind would be suffering in turmoil.
“Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.”” Matthew 16:23 NIV
Anytime that I had terrible thoughts, I was able to counter it with spiritual warfare.
Because it wasn’t me.
It wasn’t my thoughts.
It was the devils.
It was a pretty big revelation when I realized spiritually, there’s a lot more going on than anyone gave credit to.
More than anyone realized.
And then I was asked how I can be so “spiritual” when the worst thing in the world happened to me.
The answer is simple.
I was given the option.
Live the rest of my life in agony or find the bigger purpose for all of it.
And the choice was simple once I realized where my son was.
The choice is yours.
Once you realize where your child is.
But that doesn’t mean that you can’t be unhappy.
I can be unhappy and miss my child.
And that will NEVER go away.
Because I love Bo.
Just like you love your child.
You don’t have to apologize or feel wrong for missing them.
Or being unhappy that they’re not in your arms.
There are days where I stomp my feet and fight with the fact that he’s not here.
Similar to a two year old having a temper tantrum.
But I always remember how good it feels knowing I’ll be with him again.
After I complete what I’m sent here to do.
And so will you.