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Called to be Christ's Light

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Last Updated: November 28, 2011
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My Faith Journey

God blessed me with a gift of faith (which falters at times, as well) even since I was a youngster. (As Missy can tell you, I'm way old now!)

I remember talking to Mom about my dad's job when I was in elementary school. I asked her why didn’t Dad just quit if he was so unhappy in his job.It seems to me I may have even quoted the scripture about God watching over the birds and knowing all the hairs on our head, so why wouldn’t he take care of us, too. Whatever I said, my mom said that it would be nice to have that kind of faith, but adults often don’t have that kind of faith.

I remember praying to God for patience at an early age, only realizing much much later that if you pray for patience, God gives you struggles so you can make that patience grow.

I remember being young and praying desperately to be like Christ... but looking back, it was the fame I wanted and not the spirit. But God seemed to give me His spirit anyhow, and perhaps some humility to boot, as I no longer want the fame that Christ had.

I remember being somewhat "born again" in 7th grade and carrying a bible with me a lot. (One of my confirmation students, KK, asked me if I was a "gooner" when I was younger. I was glad it took her almost half of the confirmation year before she figured out that I wasn’t hip and cool like Missy and Sweet Lisa Allen.)

I remember in 8th grade—public school—one of our assignments was to write a paper about someone who was rebellious... and I chose Jesus. As John Prine says (about Jesus), "Any friend that’s been turned down is bound to be a friend of mine."

After that, I let go of my fire and brimstone Christianity (I am, of course, a lifelong Lutheran), and dove into the standby of adolescence: prolonged depression. My faith crumbled to complaints to God about why was I so stuck and selfish and miserable. And I always identified with the quote from Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, "How did I know that someday—at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere—the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again," I feared—and still fear—that isolation.

But I think those days from high school also helped me in immeasurable ways. There’s a Swahali warrior song that says, "Life has meaning only in the struggle. Triumph or defeat is in the hands of the Gods. So let us celebrate the struggle!" (You see with all of these quotes that I really have no original thoughts of my own.) I’m beginning to realize the beauty of the struggle and its profound relationship to spiritual growth.

And in no time have I witnessed this more than when my mother was diagnosed with a particularly fatal type of stomach cancer. There was no known survivor of the kind of stomach cancer Mom had, but yet, my faith was never stronger. And when Mom did die only four months later, I thought perhaps that I would abandon my faith altogether. God took the one person who loved me more than anyone else in the world. He took my safety net. He abandoned me.

But He also gave me a great gift, as He often does in hard times. He gave me people who took my safety net and patched strong holes of support in it, including people from our church like Nancy & Doug, Lisa, Missy, Cindy, Lesa, Dennis, Kurt, Jeff, Shelly, Cindy, Ted, Carl & Lois, Millie & Leonard, Marcia, Pastor Dennis, Pastor Jack, and all of the confirmation kids I was able to have in small groups: Kyle, Joseph, Nikki, Kelsey, Thomas, Lindsay, Alex, Tim, Steven, KK, Amanda, Shawn, Devon, Josh, Emma, Meggan, Jacob, Sarah, Kelly, Kyle, Nicole, Austin, Sawyer, Joanne, and Kadie Jo.

And He gave me one of the strangest gifts of all when it comes to people who are diagnosed with fatal diseases: faith. Each time I hear about someone with a grave illness, I’m amazed all over again. I always think that at some point, "reality" will set in, and I, of all people, should know what a death sentence some things can be. But every time, God’s grace comes back to touch me with the same hope, beauty, and peace that I had when Mom was dying.

Thanks, God. You have given me much; You have given me everything.

Jen Bronsdon