Prayer

Before I consciously started on my journey, I never got into prayer. To me, prayer was something spiritual leaders did formally. The closest I thought I came to prayers was reciting the Rosary before Mass on Sunday mornings. 

One point on my journey, I was discouraged because I couldn't figure out how to pray properly. If I couldn't pray properly, how could I have a connection with the Divine Source (God)? 

My son's hospital was a hour and a half away from our home. For years it seemed I spent most of my time behind my steering wheel. Looking back, I see that all those moments behind that steering wheel were the moments I prayed. Quietly, I held great conversations with God, my Angels and Loved Ones. I questioned, begged, and expressed my gratitude. I freaked out, I cursed, I pleaded. As I would pull into the parking garage or my driveway, I would feel lighter or stronger, which ever the situation I found myself needing to be.

Prayer, to me, is simply much needed conversations with God. Prayer is an individual practice that is sacred. 

Every morning, I silently have a conversation with God, but I started to resist it and slowly turned into a chore. So instead of praying, I started to reflect on why this sacred ritual had become a line on my to do list. 

One night, as I struggled to fall asleep, the thought came to me that my prayers had turned into unanswered requests. My conversations had evolved into what I needed. All day, I would subconsciously wait for my requests to given to me only to be disappointed. 

I forced myself to come to the realization that I had no idea what I really needed. I had to see that most of my choices were horribly wrong. 

I grabbed my pen and paper I keep by my bed and wrote: God, the Divine Source, thank you for all that I have been blessed with and all the blessings I have yet to receive. I invite all my Guides, Angels and Loved Ones to continue to walk beside me and help me on this wild journey. 

Instantly, my morning prayers changed and became sacred and necessary again. 

However you choose to hold conversations with The Divine, do it. I've never heard of anyone saying a good heart to heart didn't help. 

Children's Soccer and Misogyny

This past spring, I coached my middle son's soccer team. I watched my son blossom into a great soccer player and the kids on my team touched my heart. 

A father of one of the kids acted weird towards me from day one. He would try to take over my practices and would encourage his daughter to disrespect me and her fellow team mates. 

One game, the father stood on the opposite side of the field screaming at my team to do the opposite of what I was instructing them to do. When his daughter did what he commanded, the other team was able to score. This sent him into a rage. He started yelling at his daughter as she stood on the field yelling back. I pulled her off the field hoping to diffuse the situation. This just diverted his anger towards me. As I tried to focus on the game, I heard him cursing at me as his wife joined in. His wife, not receiving any reaction from me decided to walk around the field to curse and scream at me more. After the game, I immediately went to the woman who was in charge of the association. She told me he requested to coach this Fall, but she wouldn't allow it. 

Fall season was approaching so I contacted her requesting to coach. She told me that the father was coaching and since I had issues with him, she was not letting me coach. 

I found the national soccer association and spoke to the man in charge. I told him the situation and he informed me that what happened last season was over. He told me their association needed to protect their coaches from a couple of moms that were trying to railroad their coach. 

I replied that there were many witnesses that saw this man harass me all season and witnessed his anger fueled meltdown. My team witnessed the whole situation. This wasn't about railroading, it was about misogyny and teaching our children that it is wrong and it will not be tolerated. 

Jehovah Witnesses and Hell

One afternoon, when my son was just a baby, I returned home with him from a long, stressful stay at the hospital to find an unknown car in my drive. I parked my car beside them and asked the woman what I could do for her. She was a Jehovah Witness trying to save my soul if I would just follow her. I politely told her that I didn't have time to listen as I opened my baby's car door. She peeked in and saw the monitor, oxygen tank and some kind of bag hanging. This excited her and she proceeded to tell me how The Lord would save my son and I from eternal Hell and damnation.

This, of course, released all the pain, fear and frustration that had been boiling inside me for months. 

"There is no Hell when I die! I live in Hell! Go stay one night in a hospital and listen to people tell you your son is dying and allow them to inflict pain on him! I don't know what sickens me more, your fancy clothes, fake smile or your need to try to use my son's condition to sway me to your religion! Go away and never come back!"

Eight years have past since that moment and I honestly forgot about it until I was startled with an unexpected knock on my door yesterday. 

My baby, who turned into a boy opened the door as she introduced herself as a Jehovah Witness. 

I graciously accepted her pamphlet as I said, "Thank you for your time and message but I must go or my son will climb into your car expecting a ride and ice cream." She laughed and walked back to her car. 

I watched her drive away and I wondered if I have evolved or had my change in my reality alters my situations. 

Religion

Every morning, a nondenominational paster would quietly stop in my baby's hospital room. He would smile sweetly and ask me if he could pray for my son. I would muster up a smile and thank him. 

Eventually, his routine included him walking around the bed to place his hand on my shoulder as he whispered, "Bless you my dear girl. He is with you." My defense mechanisms and anger would make me tense up and I would fight to say how I really felt. I turned my back on God when I was told my baby would go to Hell because I had a nun baptize him. 

One morning, my defenses were down and as the pastor placed his hand on my shoulder and I allowed myself to feel the love God was trying to send to me. 

I started studying many religions hoping to find one I could connect with so I could be close to God. Months went by and although I connected with teachings of various religions, there wasn't one religion I could stick with. 

I found myself starting to lose it as they wheeled my baby away from me into an operating room. One of his regular nurses grabbed my shoulders and informed me of a quiet and rarely used bathroom. She told me to go there and get my shit together. 

I practically ran to the bathroom relieved it was there. I cried and cursed. I thought how good it would feel to tear the sinks off the walls. The pastor's words washed through my mind as I felt a warm calming vibration travel down my spine. I was washed away with the revelation that my chapel was this bathroom. The moments that I allowed myself to feel hope was God. My constant ache of loneliness was replaced with his presence. 

Years have passed, and I've been blessed with the ability to have conversations with various people regarding their religions. We walk away with a deep connection and a greater connection with God. 

Recently, I came across a conversation of a dear friend and his neighbor. In essence, she told my friend that she loved him but he was going to burn in Hell because he didn't follow her religion or beliefs.  

This burned me for many reasons. The main reason is because there is only one God. I believe religion should be used to bring like-minded people together, to raise energy and love. I could be wrong, but I don't think God wants us to kill each other or condemn each other over religion. 

In my lifetime, I have l experienced Hell and I have experienced Heaven. Life isn't about being rewarded or condemned when we die, it's about living through our Hell and Heaven moments here on Earth; to let go of our agendas and embrace each other with love and compassion, no matter what religion you follow.