Belief and trust in, and loyalty to , God. That is the definition of faith according to the Webster dictionary. Wikipedia defines faith as the confidence or trust in a person, thing, deity, or in the doctrines or teachings of a religion. Faith is the belief and trust in what cannot be seen or backed up with proof. Faith is what you make it.
Writing and posting spiritual blogs offers up more controversy than any other blogs I write and post. I am often challenged about my faith and what I believe awaits me when my final breath on earth is taken. I am OK with any challenge of my faith that comes my way. It often forces me to do more research regarding what my beliefs are, even though it is intended to make me look into what others beliefs are. I respect that others practice a different religion, and that respect is extended to those that do not believe in religion at all. I also feel that they also have faith, even if it is not the faith I speak of.
I often talk about building my faith and increasing my connection with God and all he has provided me. I have made incredible strides in my religious life and as a practicing Catholic I feel I am strong in the teachings of the Bible. I do not consider myself the perfect christian but I do work on myself in all aspects to become the christian I would like to be. When I take that final breath in the end, I am confident I will be proud of all I have done and who I have become.
Most of us, when speaking of faith, are talking about our religion and our faith in God. We related the word faith with the religious world and try to incorporate it into our own lives. We look at our belief in the spiritual world and dissect the faith we carry with us, and unfortunately we tend to blame God when it is weak and glorify ourselves when it is strong. This is where we go wrong, we tend to use our faith as an excuse, or as a reasoning, for things that do not turn out as expected. What other explanation is there on how our faith can be strong and in one moment and turn weak due to a major disappointment in our lives.
Faith is in all aspects of our lives and it is not built on anything more then how we believe in ourselves. The more I go through in my life, the stronger my faith becomes. I have long passed the point of using faith as an excuse for what is good and what is not in my life. I washed that down the same drain I used to wash away the feeling of responsibility for all the things that has happened to me. I used to blame my 'dad' for everything that went wrong. Since he was the one that emotionally, physically, and sexually abused me for seven years I would relate everything dark and dreary in my life back to him. That led me to countless thoughts about what was so wrong with me that I brought out the worse in him.
Faith is believing in something you cannot see. In the spiritual sense, I believe in God. I believe God loves so deep and so unconditionally that He accepts me for who I was, who I am, and who I will become before my final breath on earth is exhaled. I believe in a life of eternity in His Kingdom, no matter what takes that final breath from me. I believe God will provide me the opportunity to sit in God's Park (Purgatory) for as long as I need to sit and reflect on all the wrongs I did not right when walking my journey on earth. This does not mean that I will not continue to build on my faith and ask God for His Grace in all things I do. I will forever work on the me I want to be, that good Christian that strives to make a positive difference in the lives of those willing to accept what I have to offer.
I am also learning something else about faith as I continue my walk on earth. The more time that passes the more I am realizing that my personal faith, that faith I have in myself, gets stronger as my faith in God flourishes. I now understand that I am not what turned my 'dad' into who he was. I am not responsible for the death of my little sister, or my two older brothers. There was nothing that I could have done to prevent their lives from being cut short. It was not because of anything I had done that caused their deaths. I was not being punished by God, he was not blaming me. I was blaming myself and it was holding me back from life.
No matter what religion you practice or what faith you hold, death is the end result of life. We will all die, and that is the only reason we are born. I can tell you a bit about guilt and the death of loved ones. I can recall much hate and anger and confusion over the loss of those I loved, and those I did not. I can recall feeling responsible, convincing myself there must have been something I did, or did not do, that caused others to die. Countless hours of loss sleep trying to figure out what God expected of me that I failed to meet those expectations in order for him to take my family away from. I prayed and prayed and cried and cried and asked for forgiveness for things I had no idea if they were the things that took my loved ones away. I was convinced if my faith was strong this would have never happened. I lived with guilt in my brain that overshadowed the love in my heart.
The guilt of a brother who failed to watch his little sister close enough to protect her. To hear her laughing out loud one moment, and in the next would never hear that laughter again.
The guilt of a brother who never mourned the death of his older brother and never remembers even missing him being gone from earth.
The guilt of a brother who could do nothing, as the brother he looked up to laid dying and there was nothing a smile or laugh with him could do to cure him.
The guilt of a son who along with his only living sibling had to make the decision of life or death for their mother and had her removed from life support.
The guilt of a son who gave up on the hopes of a love shown him by a dad who just could not.
The guilt of surviving every hardship thrown his way while others did not.
After the death of my dad a few months back I realized that I never hated him as much as I loved him. That the space in my heart I set aside for him, hidden beyond his breath of life, would help me define the faith I have for myself. His death allowed me to take a second look at the guilt I carried for lives I could not save. I spent so much time in the past six years beating myself up, questioning faith in myself, that I was convinced those deaths were my burden, my cross to carry, in my journey to heaven.
I spent a lot of time after my friend Connor died, from abusing his system so hard and so often with drugs and alcohol, thinking about whether God would except him into his Kingdom. Would Connor be awarded an eternity in heaven, or punished behind the gates of hell? Would God understand Connors need to leave the world? Would God know what demons Connor carried in his heart and soul that left him lifeless on earth? Would God understand the pain Connor felt each day he woke up and tried to hide behind a bottle of booze, a syringe of drugs, or a joint?
My conclusion is that Connor had very little faith in himself and what he had to offer the world. Connor may not have meant to take his life from overdosing but that was the end result. Connor did not know how to be happy on earth, even given a great life, with wonderful parents, two beautiful sisters that loved him completely and many friends. Musical and athletic skills that came as natural to him as popping a pill. A sense of humor that was matched by no one in our circle of friends. He was as loyal and trustworthy as a friend could be. The only thing Connor lacked was faith in himself. I believe he found faith in his death and through that death he entered God's Park where he could evaluate the things he could have done differently and find the faith in himself that he lacked on earth. Yes, I know Connor is now in heaven where he is happy, where he has faith in himself, and where he has found a purpose in life.
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. I believe God loves us so much he allows us the opportunity to live, and to die, and to be forgiven, and to forgive ourselves. I believe we live and we die, and we spend an eternity, beyond our breath of life, with God and all the angels that found an eternity before we have. I believe the only faith greater than our faith in God, is the faith we have in ourselves. The faith to move forward in our lives, forgive those that left before us, and believe in ourselves. That there is a purpose for the paths we are on, and that each step we take, each breath we breathe, brings us closer to realizing that ... LIFE .... IS A MATER OF FAITH.
Writing and posting spiritual blogs offers up more controversy than any other blogs I write and post. I am often challenged about my faith and what I believe awaits me when my final breath on earth is taken. I am OK with any challenge of my faith that comes my way. It often forces me to do more research regarding what my beliefs are, even though it is intended to make me look into what others beliefs are. I respect that others practice a different religion, and that respect is extended to those that do not believe in religion at all. I also feel that they also have faith, even if it is not the faith I speak of.
I often talk about building my faith and increasing my connection with God and all he has provided me. I have made incredible strides in my religious life and as a practicing Catholic I feel I am strong in the teachings of the Bible. I do not consider myself the perfect christian but I do work on myself in all aspects to become the christian I would like to be. When I take that final breath in the end, I am confident I will be proud of all I have done and who I have become.
Most of us, when speaking of faith, are talking about our religion and our faith in God. We related the word faith with the religious world and try to incorporate it into our own lives. We look at our belief in the spiritual world and dissect the faith we carry with us, and unfortunately we tend to blame God when it is weak and glorify ourselves when it is strong. This is where we go wrong, we tend to use our faith as an excuse, or as a reasoning, for things that do not turn out as expected. What other explanation is there on how our faith can be strong and in one moment and turn weak due to a major disappointment in our lives.
Faith is in all aspects of our lives and it is not built on anything more then how we believe in ourselves. The more I go through in my life, the stronger my faith becomes. I have long passed the point of using faith as an excuse for what is good and what is not in my life. I washed that down the same drain I used to wash away the feeling of responsibility for all the things that has happened to me. I used to blame my 'dad' for everything that went wrong. Since he was the one that emotionally, physically, and sexually abused me for seven years I would relate everything dark and dreary in my life back to him. That led me to countless thoughts about what was so wrong with me that I brought out the worse in him.
Faith is believing in something you cannot see. In the spiritual sense, I believe in God. I believe God loves so deep and so unconditionally that He accepts me for who I was, who I am, and who I will become before my final breath on earth is exhaled. I believe in a life of eternity in His Kingdom, no matter what takes that final breath from me. I believe God will provide me the opportunity to sit in God's Park (Purgatory) for as long as I need to sit and reflect on all the wrongs I did not right when walking my journey on earth. This does not mean that I will not continue to build on my faith and ask God for His Grace in all things I do. I will forever work on the me I want to be, that good Christian that strives to make a positive difference in the lives of those willing to accept what I have to offer.
I am also learning something else about faith as I continue my walk on earth. The more time that passes the more I am realizing that my personal faith, that faith I have in myself, gets stronger as my faith in God flourishes. I now understand that I am not what turned my 'dad' into who he was. I am not responsible for the death of my little sister, or my two older brothers. There was nothing that I could have done to prevent their lives from being cut short. It was not because of anything I had done that caused their deaths. I was not being punished by God, he was not blaming me. I was blaming myself and it was holding me back from life.
No matter what religion you practice or what faith you hold, death is the end result of life. We will all die, and that is the only reason we are born. I can tell you a bit about guilt and the death of loved ones. I can recall much hate and anger and confusion over the loss of those I loved, and those I did not. I can recall feeling responsible, convincing myself there must have been something I did, or did not do, that caused others to die. Countless hours of loss sleep trying to figure out what God expected of me that I failed to meet those expectations in order for him to take my family away from. I prayed and prayed and cried and cried and asked for forgiveness for things I had no idea if they were the things that took my loved ones away. I was convinced if my faith was strong this would have never happened. I lived with guilt in my brain that overshadowed the love in my heart.
The guilt of a brother who failed to watch his little sister close enough to protect her. To hear her laughing out loud one moment, and in the next would never hear that laughter again.
The guilt of a brother who never mourned the death of his older brother and never remembers even missing him being gone from earth.
The guilt of a brother who could do nothing, as the brother he looked up to laid dying and there was nothing a smile or laugh with him could do to cure him.
The guilt of a son who along with his only living sibling had to make the decision of life or death for their mother and had her removed from life support.
The guilt of a son who gave up on the hopes of a love shown him by a dad who just could not.
The guilt of surviving every hardship thrown his way while others did not.
After the death of my dad a few months back I realized that I never hated him as much as I loved him. That the space in my heart I set aside for him, hidden beyond his breath of life, would help me define the faith I have for myself. His death allowed me to take a second look at the guilt I carried for lives I could not save. I spent so much time in the past six years beating myself up, questioning faith in myself, that I was convinced those deaths were my burden, my cross to carry, in my journey to heaven.
I spent a lot of time after my friend Connor died, from abusing his system so hard and so often with drugs and alcohol, thinking about whether God would except him into his Kingdom. Would Connor be awarded an eternity in heaven, or punished behind the gates of hell? Would God understand Connors need to leave the world? Would God know what demons Connor carried in his heart and soul that left him lifeless on earth? Would God understand the pain Connor felt each day he woke up and tried to hide behind a bottle of booze, a syringe of drugs, or a joint?
My conclusion is that Connor had very little faith in himself and what he had to offer the world. Connor may not have meant to take his life from overdosing but that was the end result. Connor did not know how to be happy on earth, even given a great life, with wonderful parents, two beautiful sisters that loved him completely and many friends. Musical and athletic skills that came as natural to him as popping a pill. A sense of humor that was matched by no one in our circle of friends. He was as loyal and trustworthy as a friend could be. The only thing Connor lacked was faith in himself. I believe he found faith in his death and through that death he entered God's Park where he could evaluate the things he could have done differently and find the faith in himself that he lacked on earth. Yes, I know Connor is now in heaven where he is happy, where he has faith in himself, and where he has found a purpose in life.
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. I believe God loves us so much he allows us the opportunity to live, and to die, and to be forgiven, and to forgive ourselves. I believe we live and we die, and we spend an eternity, beyond our breath of life, with God and all the angels that found an eternity before we have. I believe the only faith greater than our faith in God, is the faith we have in ourselves. The faith to move forward in our lives, forgive those that left before us, and believe in ourselves. That there is a purpose for the paths we are on, and that each step we take, each breath we breathe, brings us closer to realizing that ... LIFE .... IS A MATER OF FAITH.
