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I finally heard God again today | 1.4.21

Reposting this from nearly two years ago as a reminder of the power of my faith.

These past two months have been some of the worst emotional moments I’ve felt in a very long time. It was the perfect way to cap off a year with so many headaches-- a huge migraine of an ending. In four days, Nick, the cats, and I will be moving to the Richmond district, in a quaint apartment with those Victorian windows that I dream about, an hour’s walk away from the Golden Gate Bridge and three beaches practically in our backyard. There will be catharsis after all, and I really would not be writing all of this right now if I had not heard God speak to me today.

I am a very religious person, by my standards, at least. Sometimes I forget to pray, I forget to be a good person, I forget to live in the moment and give thanks for my daily blessings. But despite these flaws, I love the Lord Savior Jesus Christ with all of my heart, my mind, and my soul, and I have no doubt in my faith and its power. I woke up today with a heaviness reminiscent of my darker days, motivation lacking, my mind racing, and globs of doubt seeping into my membrane. I suddenly felt so insecure about not being able to sell my car amid my already rocky feelings surrounding leaving my family’s home for good. Something told me to persist, so I reached out to anyone I could who might know someone who needs a car. Luckily, an old neighbor of ours connected me with her daughter whose car is broken and she made a promising commitment to eventually purchase my car when we return to the Bay. 

Of course, I did not want to get too excited-- I’m very wary about counting my chicks before they hatch. But no more than two minutes of closing the potential deal with the daughter, I heard a knock on the door-- a package that I was supposed to receive last week, but for some reason never arrived despite its “delivered” status. I even received my refund already. If God was trying to whisper something to me, this was a reverberating bellow that was more than enough to make my skin crawl and dance with happiness all at once. He was telling me, as He has always told me time and time again, I am here with you always. You are never alone in your woes. Everything is going to be okay.

It brought me to tears because it had felt so long since I last heard God’s message. I never think that He abandons me, but maybe just that I’m not doing good enough to hear him. My faith is not restored because it was never damaged or lost, it is simply strengthened and energized.

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I’m still feeling a lot of pain, though. This is the sixth week that my father has chosen not to speak to me or see me. That includes both Christmas and New Year’s. I don’t think I could ever capture just how hurtful his actions are, as one of the last things he said to me was that he would kill himself. It’s unimaginable that someone would treat their child, who has uprooted her life to support them with her husband, the way that he has. This whole situation makes me wish I was still able to see my old therapist. When I close my eyes, I can hear her calming, validating voice like a grandmother. Therapy helped me tremendously and guided me to see myself out of the dim and dark. I pray and hope that I don’t carry this weight with me as I progress with my ambitions and dreams.