Does God really exist?

*This post was supposed to have been posted on the 7th Mar, but because of internet issues, I see now it wasn't. Oh well!

When Zoe died, this was a question I had to grapple with. What my faith real? Even atheists have faith - they have faith that there is no God. So yes, my faith was real. Was the God I believed in real? Hmm... That was a harder one.

It wasn't the first time I'd asked that question, but it was the first time that I really took the time to think about it, to allow myself the space to contemplate the possibility that there wasn't a God. It was the first time that I gave myself permission for it to be okay if I decided there wasn't a God. (Well, if you read my blog regularly, you'll know what answer I found in my search.)

I've recently started reading a blog by Rachel Held Evans. She writes so beautifully, and honestly, and about deep stuff. I love her heart - she has such compassion for others. Her recent post, about the fact that so many Christians ask this very question, and have to grapple with it, really touched me. What touched me even more was the number of comments affirming the content of the post.

Our experience when we returned to SA was that we were surrounded by people who had NO IDEA of the pain we were in, or how much we hated the fact that they could experience such apparent joy - they had CLEARLY never suffered. While I now see that my response was very much coloured by my own grief, I do believe that, too often, church is a place where people pretend, where they behave in the manner they think they 'should' or 'ought' to.

Even now, my praise of God is always tinged by a halo of grief. I doubt that will ever change. I can't praise the way I used to, because now I know that there are times when God will not intervene, where He will not save, where He will not redeem, where He will not perform a miracle. It's not for lack of desire on his part, or lack of ability. It's because he has chosen to allow himself to be bound by the laws of physics and chaos. The world is far more chaotic than we think it is. The so-called 'Butterfly Effect' theory explains that well. So I still struggle to abandon myself in worship. Yet:

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

I think that is far more authentic worship - to know the depths of grief and pain, and even there, to be able to worship. But to the outside world, it doesn't look like "worship". There are no smiles, no adoring sighs, no hands raised, no head raised in wonder to the ceiling, no dancing a jig. Instead, there is hesitancy in uttering words, tears aplenty, groans that words cannot express, heads and shoulders bowed - not because we DON'T believe, but because we do. We believe, despite everything. We are broken, at the foot of the cross.

Too often, we judge the exterior appearance. Too often, we heap scorn on those who are different, who worship differently, because we cannot hear their heart, or know their inmost thoughts.

I am guilty of this. I am guilty of looking around during worship, judging who is *really* connecting with God, or wondering what others think of me & my worship style.  I, too, need to remember that for many, the fact that they are in church is a victory, a miracle, a sign that there is forward movement in their faith. I need to be gentle, loving and kind with others, and with myself.

Each of us, at least once in our lives, will have to ask and answer this question. For some of us, it comes around with regularity. Just as you think you've got a handle on the answer, you discover another angle, another facet you hadn't considered, another obstacle in your path. Once again, you will have to dig deep to find the courage to face this question head on, to be honest in your search and honest in your answer.

To those who have yet to start this journey - don't judge us: we are not weaker than you, or less faithful than you, or less intelligent than you - we are merely struggling with the vagaries of life and with a cognitive dissonance that must be resolved if we are to move forward. Don't patronise us: nothing hurts more than Biblical exhortations  and social niceties. Don't ignore us: the questions we ask have value beyond belief, for us personally, but for the Church as well. Don't exclude us: we need you as much as you need us - we are part of the same Body.

To those who have already completed this journey - have patience with the rest of us still on it. Pray for those of us on this journey - we need the encouragement, support and prayer of 'that multitude of saints who surround us'.

To those on this journey, I applaud you. It takes guts to walk this road. I pray you reach your destination.

Learning to say 'no'

Saying 'no' is often the hardest thing to do. It requires self-control. It also requires self-knowledge not coloured by pride, by fear, by desire, by greed... The discussion about learning to say no is something I return to a lot (most recently here), because it's something I struggle with. It was with some interest, therefore, that I read a blogpost on Buffer about learning to say no to distraction and temptation.

Essentially, the post was about a study done investigating the thought processes that enabled some people to be more effective at saying no. Essentially, it revolves around self-talk: replacing "can't" with "don't". When someone says they "can't" do something, the self-talk indicates they are powerless to do something, so they become powerless. When someone says they "don't" do something, the self-talk indicates they are powerful, choosing not to do something, which further enables them to make the same choice again at a later stage.

As with many truths, when reading that, the wisdom in it seems so self-evident. When I read it, my reaction was "of course!", but it's not something that occurred to me until it was explained to me.

I've been trying to run at least twice a week since the start of the year - with greater and lesser success in different weeks. One thing I've learnt is that on days when it is hardest to get up, the thing that has motivated me has been positive self-talk: You ARE going to get fit; you WILL lose the weight; you CAN do this; you WILL do this. When the self-talk is negative (I don't want to do this; I can't do this; I don't want to do this) it becomes impossible to do it.

Once I'm actually running, and want to give up because it hurts too much, if my self-talk is positive (you CAN make it to that tree/ pole/ bench) I usually make it beyond the goal I've set myself. When it's negative, I stop before I've even realised I'm going to.

So my own experience bears this out.

It's not: I can't eat that chocolate. I can't eat wheat. I can't miss my morning runs.

It is: I don't need that chocolate. I don't eat wheat. I don't miss my morning runs.

I am CHOOSING my behaviour. I am CHOOSING my future.

In a way, it's like any addict. Addicts will tell you that in that moment of craving, they have to make a choice - either to choose to do drugs again, or to choose to walk away. That's the only choice they have. They can't control the cravings, but they can control their response to their cravings.

While I am not an addict, the same truth holds for me. I can't stop the temptation - but I can choose my response to it.

In fact, the same holds true for my walk with God. I can't stop the temptations that would otherwise stop me from spending time with him, or praying. However, I can choose my response. I can choose to give in, or I can choose not to give in. Of course, that makes it sound so easy to do. Sometimes it's anything but easy. That's why Jesus said the road to life was the narrow, rocky one; the one most people wouldn't choose; and the road to hell was the wide, nicely paved one; the one that most people would choose because it was easy to follow.

The power to choose is, I believe, what makes us unique. In the Garden of Eden, God made humans in his image - the ability to choose our behaviour is part of that image. We chose not to obey. We chose to follow the wide road. Jesus chose his behaviour too. He chose to come to earth as a weak human, and to submit to a cruel death, one that should have been mine.

No doubt, the temptations he faced in his life were harder than anything I have, or will, face - ultimate earthly power and glory, to meet his own needs using supernatural power, to know the love found in a marriage, to have children, to save himself from a gruesome death... yet at each point, at each temptation, he chose not to give in. Jesus' choices, as recorded in the Bible, often reveal his self-talk, and interestingly, it was often of the nature of: "I don't do that. I don't want that. I don't need that."

So, my New Year's resolution, my personal challenge, was to get 7 hrs sleep a night and to run twice a week. This term, my challenge will be to change my self-talk. My Easter challenge to myself is to consciously have more positive self-talk - to replace my can'ts with more don'ts. What's yours?

Time for Nellie...

Easter was a good time for Nellie, although she really doesn't seem to like chocolate - evidenced by the fact that she's very happy to give it away. Of course, Mommy (behind the camera) is not going to say no to free chocolate!

Granny's visit was over far too quickly...

The latest development is that Nellie is quickly learning to baby sign. In addition to 'more', she is now starting to sign 'please' and 'thank you', and 'nappy'. Of course, she still gets them all mixed-up, but the fact that she's trying is very cute. She has also learnt to put her hand in front of her mouth when she coughs, which is just so sweet!

Fortunately, it seems that Mommy and Daddy are learning what her different cavewoman grunts mean, so we've had fewer tears of frustration recently. Of course, it now seems that her molars are starting to move around in her jaw, because she's started drooling and chewing on her fingers again. Associated with this have been bouts of crying for no apparent reason, so I'm hoping they are just because she's in pain, rather than that she's crying because she's picked up on our grief.

She's also learning to pick up after herself. We've started to insist that if she deliberately throws things off her highchair she picks them up after the meal. Likewise, we've started insisting that she helps clean up when we're done playing. This has also resulted in some tears, but that's more about the fact that we're defining boundaries than anything else. In general, she really seems to enjoy doing what we ask - either bringing things to us so we can put them away or putting her toys back into their bags/ boxes. Long may her enjoyment of this last!!

Summer seems to have arrived - over the weekend we had temperatures in the mid-20's! This is when I thank God our flat has outdoor space where Nellie can ride her car, push her pram and throw her ball. She has also been learning to garden with her spade and little basket, and plenty of Mommy's unused plastic pots. She has a little watering can, but if we fill it with water she seems more intent on watering herself than any plant, so we haven't done much of that.

Of course, like all children, she's also spent quite a bit of time eating soil, and then coming to us to have her tongue brushed off.... I keep telling myself not to worry - she'll soon grow out of the need to mouth everything, and in the meantime eating soil will only build up her immune system....

With the improved weather, and more time spent outdoors, and with Mommy being in a place to give her a little more quality attention, Nellie has been really happy the last few days. She is the one bright thing in our lives at the moment, and we both thank God for her and for the way she brightens up our lives. 'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...'

Like, DUH!

On my way home tonight from dropping my mom off, it struck me that sometimes I can be really dense! Like, DUH! dense....

This Good Friday there's another person I have a connection with... Jesus' mother! Having lost Zoe, whom I hardly knew, I can barely begin to imagine what Mary would have gone through - raising her firstborn, seeing him mature and grow into a man, spending 30 plus years loving him, and then have to watch him being tortured and killed... believing he was DEAD for 3 days.... I can't even begin to imagine her personal hell that first Good Friday!!

Somehow, that puts my suffering into some sort of perspective.

Good Friday

So today is the remembrance of Jesus' crucifixion and death... the reason that we have hope is because he went into the depths of hell for our sake, was abandoned by his Father for our sake...

This year it has a new dimension for me. The Father lost his son... God knows the hell of losing a child and being 'left behind'. And he knows the joy of being reunited with that child and never being separated from him again. This is my hope this Easter... that because of Easter and Ascension Day, I will be reunited with my child too, and that we will never be parted again. I'm just not sure how I'm going to handle the time lag between my personal Good Friday and Ascension Day.

People around us keep commenting on how strong I'm being, how brave. A lot of what they see is me in ostrich mode - when I've buried my head in a book, or TV, or anything else I can think about. Escapism has its place. For one thing, it gives the mourner breathing space so as not to be overwhelmed by grief. I worry though that I'm spending too much time avoiding and not enough time 'being' with my grief.

When I'm being an ostrich, I can almost believe that I was never pregnant, that Zoe never was, and that life is just how it was 9 months ago. It's like this has happened to someone else, not me, and I'm just an observer. There's a distance between me and my feelings.

But then, as soon as I stop being busy or stop hiding, the pain and desolation hits me again. In those moments I think that if I can just say out loud often enough how wrong this is, someone will hear me and come and fix it; someone will knock on the door and tell me there's been a dreadful mistake, and the baby I gave birth to is alive; someone will have faith enough to raise Zoe back to life. But I know that's not going to happen, and I'm still not sure how I'm going to move forward from here.

I'm not about to slash my wrists or jump in front of a truck or take enough tablets to sleep the eternal sleep (although I'm so tired right now that the last one does sound appealing), so I guess I must be coping okay. I guess that's what people mean when they say how strong I am, or how brave I am. I just don't see it myself. I don't feel strong, or brave. Quite the opposite - I just want to run away from all this and hide - and I do run away and hide, quite a lot...

Which makes what Jesus did even more incredible. He faced worse than this - he knew what lay before him. Yet, instead of running away and hiding (which is what I would have done), he faced it, accepted it, and moved through it - right through to the other side of death. That's strength and bravery. What I do is merely coping, and hardly that. But I have to believe that, as Tony Campolo's preaching competitor said, 'It's Friday, but Sunday's coming!'