Without a Crystal Ball

Our Journey through Chronic Illness & Autism

Every single person has a gift given to them by God. Something that they can use while they are here to make the world a better place. I’ve never been on such a search as I am now. Why am I here? How can I improve the lives of others around me? How can I let go of my ego to be a better person? These are questions I’m grappling with on a daily basis. I’ve formed a large ego over the years. An ego I didn’t even know existed, but it was an ego Corporate America inflated quickly. They told me how great I was, and then when I was no longer useful, they took a needle to my ego and popped it all over me. Having my Ego destroyed is by far the most humbling experience of my life. I’m reflecting, thinking and analyzing what I want from this life. I’m digging in to my soul, seeking answers, and asking very fundamental questions. The biggest question I’m asking is “How do I want to be remembered when I’m gone”.

In my youth, I had made lots of plans about what I wanted my future to hold. I made these decisions based on what I saw and thought was important. After almost 40 years on this planet, I’m realizing my logic and reasoning was deeply flawed. My energy and time was spent on accumulating things, looking a certain way, achieving and competing, and never, ever feeling satisfied. I never felt full no matter what I had, what I achieved or the accolades I received for my performance. Deep inside was an emptiness that felt like a sinking hole. I had to keep adding foundation to the hole to not lose my footing, but I never felt stable. Then one day I sat in my room. I was laying in my bed, and I was sobbing. Nothing in my life felt right. There was nothing going right in any aspect. My career was falling apart, my marriage was suffering, and I was sleep walking my way through motherhood. Every appearance I gave to the world was a put together woman that could handle anything, and inside of my heart I was falling apart.

I laid my head on my pillow and the tears were making my pillow soaking wet. I was begging for anyone to hear me. Finally, I just said out loud, “I need you, God. I can’t do this on my own anymore. I’m doing everything wrong. I need to know you are here.” Suddenly I felt an embrace and a warm deep hug. It’s hard to even put in to words because it took me by surprise. However, in that moment I knew I was no longer alone. My tears stopped and I was able to catch my breath from from the sobbing. I knew I needed to find God. I knew I needed to be a part of his family, and I knew that his family was what would give me purpose.

The next day I started searching for churches in my region. It felt SO bizarre looking for a church. My entire life I had felt so conflicted about church, and I certainly didn’t want to be a part of a community that judged others choices and put their ideology above every one else. My fear was it would change me in to a hateful person that beat their bible and told every one what they were doing wrong. Every church that had “SINNER” on their webpage, I quickly skipped over and didn’t consider. I had spent 18 years in the Catholic church feeling like a failure, and I wanted this experience to be one that was about positivity and light. After a couple days of research, I stumbled upon a community Church and the webpage said “No perfect people allowed”. I LOVED that idea. I started digging through the page, reading about the pastor, the youth leaders, and I noticed they had all their sermons available to be streamed. I clicked the link, and I listened. After being separated for 18 years from the Church, it was weird to hear the gospel. It was even stranger to feel connected to what the pastor was discussing.

Over the course of 2 days, I found myself listening to more than 6 different sermons he had given. I knew I needed to go to the church and actually experience it. That Sunday I asked a friend to go with me, and I was initially very nervous. We walked through the doors and everyone was so friendly. We got some coffee, and we took a seat. The music started playing, and unexplainably I started crying. Hot tears streamed down my face, and I suddenly became very embarrassed that others would see me. I was afraid that people would see me crying and point and laugh. However, everyone around me was so taken in by the music. They were singing and had their hands raised. I realized no one was actually looking at me. They were being with God in that moment. Suddenly,  I realized I was HOME. I knew no one at this church, but I knew God had called me Home.

Within weeks I found myself diving in to the gospel, attending service regularly, and asking my atheist husband to join me. I was completely shocked when he agreed to attend. An amazing thing happened to him, within weeks of his first service he was asking me to go to service each week. Our son fell in love with the teachers in the Sunday school. We found friends we didn’t know possible. By fall my atheist husband told me he believed in Christ, and he said he wanted to get even more involved in church. We joined small groups, home churches and started serving.

I found myself disengaged in the things that mattered to me before. I was less concerned about income and more concerned about who I was being. My inner peace started to sing, and I realized that my journey in life had been one to get me to this point. My calling was not to be sales woman in Corporate America. My calling was to be a good person, doing good things in the community, and advocating and writing for children like my son. The more I got involved in Church, the less I wanted to be in the corporate world and the more I wanted to be a mother. As I started writing more, I realized that my true way to mark the world was through my words. I could be a voice for myself and others. I could help others make sense of their feelings, and even if I never got paid, I would be making a difference in their lives. I am so grateful I prayed that day. I’m so grateful that I followed that feeling. That feeling was God bringing me home. I’m finally home, and so grateful for the journey.



One thought on “My Journey Back Home

  1. Susan W says:

    You have moved me beyond words. How is your son doing? I too have hypopituitarianism.


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