I try my best to say a prayer at the end of the day. When I pray, I pour out my heart to my Heavenly Father and then I lay down and wait and listen and sort out all the thoughts in my mind, utilizing the spirit of prayer to guide me towards understanding and peace.
The other night as I lay down on my pillow I found my mind stuck between two different paths of faith. I felt I could choose to have faith that this baby would come healthy and living, a much harder path for my mind to take but one full of hope for the best possible outcome. On the flip side of having faith that it will all work out was the path my faith was fully walking down: faith that to accept whatever happens. Now, this has room for a hopeful outcome, but realistically it was consumed in mental preparation for the worst to happen. To prepare for loss again felt safe, it felt like the only way to protect my psyche.
I vocally expressed to Kyle, "If it happens again, I don't think I can do it. I think I would have a full on mental breakdown. You would have to send me away because it would just be too much." Not the most desirable conversation to start, but I had to get it off my chest.
"I feel like because I don't want it to happen again, I so badly want everything to go smoothly and perfectly and happily, that because I want it so bad....that it means that it is bound to happen. If I am not willing to accept this trial again, to say that I could have the faith to make it through again, that it means I didn't learn enough from it yet, that more suffering, more sorrow, more learning is needed."
I tend to just start talking to my husband and the conversation turns into a long stream-of-conscious monologue. I rarely pause to let him divert the direction, he has learned there is no point, I have to talk it out, vocally, to make sure all the pieces of the puzzle are there.
Then we work together to sort through them and piece them together so that they make sense and that we are both happy with what we are seeing.
So on and on I went until I was out of breath, exasperated and confused at my mind. I could see the disparities and flaws in my logic, but that didn't make them any less real to me.
"Why can't you have faith in both?" He finally stated, entering in on my ramblings, "Why must you choose one or the other?"
This was an entirely new thought in regards to this subject. My mind mulled over this ray of light, already illuminating so much. Both, I thought to myself. Faith that it will all work out but also faith to accept what is brought my way. What if the two paths I felt were so far apart were actually linked together. I realized that I have faith in a lot of things at the same time, why did I think faith was so singular. I honestly felt I could only devote my entire faith in one solitary thing, I felt I had to choose. In reality, I always have faith in multiple things, but it was the seeming dichotomy of two paths that made me feel like it was a choice to make.
It didn't have to be.
We talked it over, this idea of faith in two things at the same time. As our conversation finished and the light was turned off, I let out an exhale and gave silent thanks for an answered prayer.