My life prior to my wonderful current husband seems like a really bad B-movie. Drugs, affairs, crime, police, deception, homelessness and abuse made it hard for me to have faith.
Because I went through the previous marriage stone-cold sober. His misery and failures were mine, too, because of "love" or some sort of loyalty I was desperate to find in him.
Losing my faith then makes me sad now. Don't get me wrong - I still believe in Jesus and the power of the Almighty.
When a person, such as myself, allows someone who seems larger than life to walk in and take over completely, the horrible realization that comes in that moment when you think "Where did my faith go?" buckles you to your knees.
I was finished. In that moment, I turned off all emotional contact with my faith, my life, my friends, my family and myself. I was, quite literally, The Walking Dead.
For a long time, I couldn't even cry.
I was a prisoner in my own home because I couldn't find the motivation (read: Heart) to step outside and change the dynamics of my existence. I felt worthless, used and completely incapable of movement. My feet were shackled and my cell sucked me in more and more to the point that all I did was go to work and come back to the cave I had created.
I invited no one to visit - even family. I couldn't let them see the misery. I refused to let them walk through my door and see the pity in their eyes.
When you begin to wake up out of the dream, Faith, in its infinite wisdom, has a way of keeping up with your comings and goings. It taps you on the shoulder often to let you know that, no matter how bad you perceive things to be, there's really another world you can step to if you just learn one simple thing.
The bars that I used to see on my window are gone now. I step smoothly past the depression that used to be the end-all to my existence. The pills I took to mask the feelings are gone.
Reality is my best friend. Lies I had convinced myself of are no longer in play. I don't lie to myself anymore. Excuses are not welcome here.
This is not an overnight process. My faith is still reminding me daily that there are other options to panic (I have panic attacks but not as frequently). Long walks, laughter, talking with my husband about any distresses that happen by, keeping my camera handy and taking an interest in my own health and well-being.
I care about my faith now. I keep a close eye on it and welcome it in for coffee and a chat.
We're becoming best friends again.