A Return to Faith
I believe in consistency, in which faith must be valued frequently to discover a certainty of peace in the future.
In the past, I was convinced that the ability of decompressing and allowing my life to resume after tragedy seemed wishful thinking. My life might have been determined by the flip of a coin; heads is happiness and tails is disaster. What developed over the course of a catastrophe was a belief that pleasure would never be found again, at least not for me, thereby halting my efforts of faith and confidence.
Last summer, I experienced the greatest loss my family had ever encountered when my grandfather died, due to heart implications. This was not the type of suffering that could be erased gradually, especially when it appeared that fate was playing a game. There was a time that encouragement was necessary in the aftermath of crisis, yet my comfort for the next three months transitioned toward a relentless shroud of skeptical thoughts and emotions.
I chose to live my misery in silence in order to avoid any sentimental aid from family or friends, most likely continuing the already dismal perspective of reality for those around me. The reality was increasingly becoming a prolonged resentment towards life’s meaning of tranquility for the soul; I would only consider the basics, not the in-depth qualities about the aspects of life. I became the victim of my well-crafted depression that was built on fear and used it to stray from believing in God’s plan of happiness after disaster.
Though I was determined to remain in a single state-of-mind, I thought about exercising my mental frustration and producing something beyond intolerable pain and reaching outside my comfort range. During the school year, I learned to involve myself with various activities to release anger and transition to what I came to learn from them. I recovered the same way I had reclined from faith. I participated in music with my school band, worked on daily projects, volunteered in the community, and entered into poetry contests; one that was published into an anthology. Slowly, but surely, I trusted myself to accept faith as my lifeline.
I can’t erase the absence of my grandfather by averting my hope from this sudden incident, but I will, now and always, retreat from pain with the knowledge that crisis is not permanent. There is a guarantee for recovery from hardship, though it may not be considered possible, and is supported by the foundation of faith. When I use faith constantly, it becomes possible to obtain strength from the difficult and reminds me that living in soul protects from dying.
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