One Year Later – The Spiritual Journey

Wow. It’s hard to believe, but tomorrow will mark the one year anniversary of Ray’s heart attack and subsequent brain injury.

My goal is to publish a series of posts in the next few days, chronicling at least a little bit of our journey. First, though, I want to share a little bit of the spiritual journey, and brag on our awesome God Almighty.

A few weeks after the life-changing event, I looked back at my prayer journal, to the last entry I’d made before the heart attack. On that day, I meditated on 1 Kings 17:8-16, which is the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. I wrote,

Elijah asks the woman for water, something easy for her to give. She goes to get it, no big deal. Then he asks for bread, but she has only enough to serve herself and her son one last time. He assures her they’ll be provided for. She trusts him and gives him what he’s asked for. And God provides.

I then noted,

I’m giving God what’s easy.

What am I not giving God that’s not so easy?

To which I wrote down the questions to myself:

  • My fertility? [While we followed Church teachings, was God asking us to be more open to accepting another life?]
  • My time? [Was I being called to do more for God, but not doing it, because I didn’t trust God enough to provide the time to complete everything that needed to be done?]

Finally, I scrawled across the bottom:

What act of total trust is God asking of me?

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Little did I know at the time, but the act of trust that would soon be required was that of placing my husband, my children, and myself entirely  into God’s hands and trusting that he would provide for us all, just as he did for the widow.

As I’ve looked back on the past year, and especially those first few weeks, when Ray was so desperately ill, I have continued to be awed by the sense of peace and even joy that I experienced through the very worst of it, and I know that it’s because, like the widow of Zarephath, I trusted. I’ve done many things wrong in my life, but in the moment when I realized that my husband was not breathing, I trusted.

I trusted because of the many mornings I had spent reading and reflecting on God’s promise in scripture.

I trusted because of the countless hours I had spent meditating upon God’s promise revealed through the mysteries of the Rosary.

I trusted because of hours spent in Adoration, loving our Lord, asking him to make me his servant, and to help me to unite my crosses to his.

I trusted because of the graces received through the source and summit of our lives as Catholics, the Eucharist. And, just as we pray in the Anima Christi,

Soul of Christ, sanctify me
Body of Christ, save me
Blood of Christ, inebriate me
Water from Christ’s side, wash me
Passion of Christ, strengthen me
O good Jesus, hear me
Within Thy wounds hide me
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee
From the malicious enemy defend me
In the hour of my death call me
And bid me come unto Thee
That I may praise Thee with Thy saints
and with Thy angels
Forever and ever
Amen

They did, and He did.

He strengthened me, inebriated me, and hid me within his wounds. He gave me the peaceful reassurance that Ray was held within his loving hands, as well. He gave me the joy of knowing that, when we walk through the deepest of valleys, he is with us.

He gave me the joy of the Resurrection.

We’ve been through a lot this past year. But when I come back to this assurance, all I can think is,

My God, you are so good.

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To learn more about our family’s journey this past year, you might like to read:

My First Post After Ray’s Heart Attack

A Peace that Surpasses All Understanding

Ray’s Unexpected Homecoming