A Faith Restored By A Life Defined

1322 WordsFeb 19, 20176 Pages
A Faith Restored, A Life Defined To write this paper I had to face issues that as a person I have been putting off for over ten years. For as long as I can remember I have believed in what I can only describe as God. I was raised in a Christian home and sought after God with a very open heart. I made my relationship with God my reason to get up every morning. As I got older, I started seeing things differently. I noticed that people I looked up to and saw as mentors were using the Bible and what I was taught was God 's word to condemn. I started researching the Bible on my own and found instances where the God I loved had reacted in ways that a human might, with jealousy, vengeance, and wrath. It was something I could not understand.…show more content…
My mentor proceeded to remind me that God so loved the world that He gave His only son to us, knowing what would happen, to save the world. She then sent me to read Deuteronomy 29:29, "The secret things belong unto the Lord our God: but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law." At the time I thought I understood this, but not until now that I am a mother can I more fully comprehend it. As a child, we rely on our parents for guidance and protection. We trust them to know better than we do. Sometimes as parents we will allow our child to fall, or even fail so that they will discover how to get back up. We know it will cause pain, but we also know that is a lesson that needs to be learned. Everything Happens For A Reason. Almost three years ago, I had my first miscarriage. I was roughly nine weeks pregnant, and the experience was devastating. The darkness and depression that I have struggled with my whole life were rearing its way towards me again. My fiancé and I decided to try again, and we got pregnant just a few months later. Knowing I have had complicated pregnancies in the past we were extremely careful, but unfortunately about nine weeks into that pregnancy I once again miscarried. I remember crying on the bathroom floor feeling at my lowest point and praying. Something inside me, my spirit, believed that despite this tragedy I was still growing as a person. Maybe one day I would

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