I died, I cried, I died again.
Me too. Damn near died literally.
I cling to my God now.
Me too. When the storm rages around me, and fear engulfs me, and all I have to comfort me is my shame, I cry out desperately to my God. I hope he hears me. I choose to believe he hears me. I choose to believe he cares. I choose to believe he was there in my darkest hour. Those far more intelligent than I say that belief is foolish, not warranted by empirical evidence and the trappings of one ensnared by silly religious dogma.
I say this: when I was in hell, tormented by nightmares of my past, tortured by self-righteous Jehovah's Witnesses and in doubt of my own sanity, as the winds howled and I could go no further, a power greater than myself reached out to me simply to say that I was cared for.
This simple message took me years to believe, but to be fair, that had more to do with me and my own dysfunctions. But the message was clear and more importantly, it was true. I can't prove it, but I was there.
I realized that it doesn't matter if I can or cannot prove what I heard and felt. It wasn't meant for others. It was meant for me. At the end of the day, understand that is the core of belief -- faith itself. It is meant for us, and if others ridicule or not, criticize or not, believe or not, it doesn't touch that faith -- that very special belief. That inner person is seen only by our God.
Sabrina, I was watching that thread, and while I think JT was harsh, he was staying true to himself. This is the flip side of faith. If you throw it out there, someone will respond. But realize that's okay. To look for affirmation from others is to deny what you have found. Center yourself in your belief, your faith but most importantly, your God.
Be well,
Chris