Faith is believing in something you can’t see.

Faith is how I made it though every bad situation, stressful event, unpleasant moment in my life.

My son is learning about God. He’s learning that life is hard and through faith people overcome the difficult spots. It has been interesting to watch an 8 year old navigate the gospel of Jesus Christ. Often we are in the car and he will ask questions that leave me speechless. I have my own beliefs and I have encouraged my other children to find their own paths and belief systems.
We maintain a common theme of Love God, Love People. Sometimes that is a tall order.

Death teaches you that loss is awful. It has taught my family that love never dies. Knowing that has led T to ask if we will all be a family again in heaven. I assured him that yes, we will all be there together. Then he was concerned that Adam would be there and “Adam and Dad aren’t going to share you mom”. He wants his grandparents and Adam’s parents in his “eternal family”. It’s funny how his little mind works. Personally, I leave all of that to God to sort out. I don’t think families will be the same way on the other side as they are here on earth. But for now, knowing we will all be together brings him peace so I’m going to go with it.

When we have our church moments I am reminded of my own childhood and how I grew into my own beliefs. T has the Wilson’s and grandma Dumas. I had an entire neighborhood. He loves music and my belief started with hymns. The similarities are startling. All I can think of is the scripture…and a little child shall lead them. It brings me comfort to know that if can build his own belief system he will not feel alone when we are all gone. T asked me why everything he loves dies, no 8 year old should have to ask that question. He’s not wrong though. If you love you will feel grief.

T came to our family at a time of great turmoil and inconvenience. He came to bring us together and to give us light when everything was incredibly dark. His grief has made me deal with my own. We have attended many therapy sessions together. We play with sand, orbees, putty. We cry and laugh. He’s made me remember happy things about his dad so he can have a good story to tell. He is light and love. I am incredibly blessed to be his mom.

Faith for T began in my kitchen the night Jerry died. I sat him on the kitchen counter because the flashing lights outside and hysterical mother inside were freaking him out. I laid over his knees trying to calm down so I could talk to the officers and attempt to keep him calm at the same time. I remember telling him over and over that everything would be OK. I promised him everything would be OK. He chose to believe me that night and every time since. The words it will be OK have become our mantra.

When he changed schools, when he got a nanny, when he met the Wilsons, when his brothers moved to Texas, when we got on a boat at Fish Lake, when he rode a hoverboard, when we went to the Bradley Center, when he switch therapists. all of it. He has been OK. He walks into new situations in faith. He is stronger than some adults I know.

I walk in faith, not because I’m a religious person. I walk in faith because I have a little boy watching me. He expects everything to be OK and I plan to deliver it. Faith is believing in something you can’t see. I believe in a better life, I believe in love, I believe in friendship, I believe in hope.

One day at a time.

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