A long time ago, I sat in a chapel and prayed for my mother-in-law to live. She had a massive heart attack only hours before. I was pregnant with my son and wanted her to be here to help raise him. I prayed with all my heart for God to let her live. I believe now, that I was praying for the wrong thing.

She did live—for seven long painful years as a vegetable in a nursing home with bedsores and no real understanding of the world around her. Her life—if it can be termed as such—was over, but her body remained. I blamed myself. I thought I had prayed wrong and God had answered my prayers literally. I felt terrible.

While going down to the cafeteria in the hospital, I was bumped in the elevator and robbed of all the money we had. We were on vacation in Kansas at the time of her illness. It was just another blow to already reeling senses. I blamed myself again, since the wallet was in my purse when it was stolen. Now,  my mind asked, what do I pray for???

Luckily, my parents helped us financially and the story turned out better than it would have. Still, there is that nagging doubt in my mind about praying. Did I cause this? (Of course I know better now, but I was very young).

Years passed and through hardships and troubles, I tried to keep my faith. I believed in God but was sort of afraid of Him after all the experiences  before. I have always been interested in religions and cultural practices around the world and satisfied my need for spiritualism in that form.

During this time, I lost my baby Jessie at 5 months gestation, had a devastating marriage and then another one. Lost my self-esteem and found renewed life. It has been a hard road.

Then in July of 1998, my daughter died. It was the ultimate loss for me personally. My whole world had evolved around my children. I railed at God for  letting this happen. I wasn't just upset, I was furious! I wanted answers. I felt like He had a lot of explaining to do. I wanted to know if it was because  I was  a bad person, or just bad luck. I needed to know with all my heart that it wasn't me personally who had caused her death. Finally, defeated, I sat in my living room floor and cried. Sobbing uncontrollably I gave up. I could not face life without her. I remember telling God that if I am to stay here (not kill myself) then I needed something—just one thing to hold onto.

I sat there for so long and then, when I finally moved, my eyes were attracted to a book on the bookshelf nearby. I found that book at college and purchased it because I loved the whole concept of this philosopher from the early 1900s. It is a book by Maurice Maeterlink called The Light Beyond. Something pushed me to lift that book from its place that day and open it up randomly. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I opened it to a chapter heading "The Dead Do Not Die" screamed at me from the page. I visibly started. A funny feeling came over me then. A warmth that I had not felt in a long time. I knew then, that God is listening.

There have been many tears since that moment, but underlying all of it has been the sense that God is with me. His touch is everywhere. I believe that is the moment my eyes were opened. I have read it many times in the Bible—if a man has ears let him hear, and eyes let him see—now I know what those words meant.

I have never gone back. I do not profess to be a Good Christian, more a person who is in tune with God. I pray now, in a different way. My faith is more personal and sure. I see God now in everything around me. It is a hard thing to do—to put aside the old beliefs and see the world anew, but I have come so far. I am still learning, seeing, growing in the light of God's love.

I hope that your new year is full of love and laughter, of hope, and fulfillment of God's promise. The things that happen to us on a daily basis are just things. There is so much more. I pray for God's love to touch your life and renew your soul.

Copyright © 2001 Brenda Penepent. All rights reserved.

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