How Did I Come To Know God?

TODAY: Offer this prayer: Heavenly Father. During this season of Lent, I think of the many ways you call forth our love. Help me to remember to thank you for yours – so permanent, so irrefutable. Amen.

This window reflects the gospel themes of obedience, sacrifice and atonement. The whites, purples and blues suggest the seasons of Advent and Lent. We are drawn toward the triumph of resurrection.
– Jay Hanke

Like many people, I was blessed with parents who loved me and provided a faith-filled foundation. But it wasn’t until the moment I become a parent myself that I understood what a miracle was. It was a baby girl, 8 pounds, 10 ounces, born on a snowy morning in January. I held Vanessa in my arms and felt for the first time in my life — awestruck. I believe that my knowing God began at that instant — when I first loved someone with all my heart and soul. Marital love runs deep, but this kind of love was so ageless, so primal, so far-reaching. It was transcendent.

The year following Vanessa’s birth was a solitary time. I had given up my job to stay at home. Having recently moved to Reston, I knew no one who lived close by. I entered into a quiet way of living that was depressing in its isolation. Looking back, I wonder if all the silence allowed God to catch my attention. Day after day, alone with my baby daughter, I found myself thinking a lot about the cycle of life, about our purpose here on earth and about the presence of God. It had been years since I had attended church, yet His Spirit kept after me. I found myself reading philosophy and Christian books. I attended a class on prayer and began to keep a journal. My dreams were vivid, and I was restless.

In the next year, Michael and I lost two babies to miscarriage. When the nurse took away a stillborn son, I keened. It was a devastating blow. And what was worse, I felt I deserved it. Alone with my thoughts in the hospital I was furious. What kind of God exacts this kind of payment? Fortunately, as many people in crisis do, I had a good friend who was praying for me. I am certain her prayers and visits restored my ability to hope.

In the absence of this new baby, I accepted an invitation to go on a pilgrimage to a small shrine in the mountains of Yugoslavia. That week changed my life. Back home, old prayers took on new meaning, and I looked forward to daily Mass. I re-examined and recommitted myself to the tenets of the Roman Catholic faith. By the grace of God, my lonely life transformed into a contemplative one.
Michael, Vanessa and I joined the Church of the Good Shepherd in 1991. Mike is a Methodist, and I am Catholic. Happily we have found a spiritual home where we are encouraged to dwell not on what sets us apart, but instead on the many ways we are united.
Our new church family helped us celebrate the birth of our daughter Grace — born one year to the day I prayed on a mountaintop overlooking the village of Medjugorje. John and Stephen came next — born healthy, handsome and 18 months apart.

Today, how do I know God? We meet in the formal sacraments of Communion and Reconciliation. We meet in the informal sacraments of holy traditions, birthday parties and family reunions. We meet at worship and at the dinner table. We meet in the faces of my beloved children. There He is, running circles around me daily. I don’t need to write words of love for Him on the gatepost to remind me because they seem to be everywhere I turn. That is how I know He is imprinted on my heart – because they are.
I realize that it is God who sets this love in motion. The depth of His love for me is more than I can comprehend. But I try. I believe if I stand quietly in the mysterious sacrament called “family” — maybe, just maybe — I’ll come close.

— Marey Oakes