Everyone thinks about religion. Not one person can say they haven’t thought about God, or a “father”, or the thought of there being many Gods. And if you don’t, then you think about “God” and how he’s some made up story that got around like the belief of Santa Clause. Religion crosses everyone’s mind and at some point in your life you will have a finger waving in your face telling you… THIS is what you need to believe in. THIS is how it happened, You’re going to hell, you’re an idiot, etc. 

Religion brings out the true hypocrisy in people. Anyone can say they’re a “christian.” Or, catholic, Pentecostal, etc. But you have to live it. Me? I don’t live it. I call myself a christian but I can also at least have the decency to admit I don’t do my best to live by it. I don’t pray before every meal, I don’t go to church every Sunday. I curse at the wind, I judge, I hate. Yet, I haven’t lost complete faith. And this is why.

At age 16, I became pregnant. Which we all know is pretty bad news at this age. Like any other young girl, I was scared. I was also very angry and ashamed. I had only been with the guy I was dating at the time, and I was also on birth control. So nothing was making sense because I thought I was doing everything right to prevent this situation from happening. But I eventually realized, you know what, shit happens. This is my responsibility, my child, and all I can do is accept my mistakes and love this baby with all I have. I took every day and thanked God for this new lesson he gave me. Everything was focused around my child and how I was damn sure not going to let this baby have a misled life, no matter how young I am. But God had other plans.

February 11th, 2011 (about 4 months in) I miscarried.

I was at school when I realized something wasn’t right. I went to the guidance office to lay down and after only a couple minutes I realized I needed to phone home. When my mom showed up and said we needed to go to the hospital my heart instantly dropped to my stomach. When someone finds out they’re pregnant, they instantly picture a big tummy, stretch marks, a cute little baby…not a miscarriage.

So we went to the hospital and the news was confirmed. I had lost the baby. My baby. MY responsibility. From day one the woman is a mother. Once you find out you are pregnant you are a mother taking care of your child. Everything you do effects the baby. So I couldn’t help but feel I had done something wrong. I wasn’t good enough. I should have done this.. I should have done that. I was broken. Everyone said “Everything happens for a reason.” or, “maybe it’s for the best.”

They’re right. Maybe it was. But no reason could ever justify the pain I felt God had put me through. I tried to prevent pregnancy in the first place? I had only been with one guy. So what did I do so wrong for God to feel the need to give me something so challenging, yet so loveable, and then just take it all away as soon as I fell in love. I heard the heartbeat, had just started getting a baby bump, had things for the baby already, I had accepted this. I had grown up and took on this challenge when I could have ran out and fixed it in another way. I kept my baby. I was ready to fight for my child and be the best damn mom I could be. But God didn’t understand. And I hated him.

After a long time of self-inflicted pain, depression and strictly just hating God and everything about religion and what I thought it was, I broke out of it. I finally went back to group. Which was just a small group with three of my best friends and our adult leader, Brittany. She picked us up and we went to our local Subway to have lunch and do our lesson. Group was always a good stress reliever even when my faith was down at times. We would grab some food, sit around and chat about anything and everything. We talked about not only religion but our experiences in life, our goals and dreams, teenage drama. Everything. And of course my miscarriage was the topic of the day because that was my first day really being “back” since I had “went crazy after losing the baby” -So they said.

After we sat down and gossiped for a while Brittany told us girls she had a gift for each of us and pulled out 4 tiny envelopes with a name on each one. One by one we all took turns opening them and sharing them. One of the girls opened hers, and inside was a post card with a message from…guess who…”God.” This girls message went along with something personal that was going on in her life at the time. Along with 2 bible verses for her to look up with us that went along with her message. But the strangest part was, None of us, not even Brittany, had been informed about her situation until that day she opened her message. So of course we all were confused. We asked, “Brittany, what is this? How did you know?”

She explained. She told us as our youth leader, as a true christian, she is close to God. She spoke with God. And she prayed her heart out for every single one of us for a message from him to us, through her. Any other time I would have though “yeah right, girl, you’re psycho.” Wouldn’t you? But after my friend opening hers and her message being about something Brittany didn’t even know about.. I got chills. 

So we went around. All the other girls open their envelopes, we looked up their verses in the bible, talked about each one, then it came to be my turn. The very last one to share. As I grabbed my envelope I played with the paper a little bit. I didn’t want to open it. Brittany noticed my hesitation, and then said, “Now Evie, please don’t be upset with yours. I know you went through a very hard time and are still struggling tremendously, but I prayed and prayed, and even caught myself questioning God, asking “are you sure God?” But I just knew this message was right.” ….That didn’t help. It made me even more resistant. But at the same time, curious. When I pulled out my message from God, Instantly, tears were streaming down my face. My throat knotted up, I could feel every hair on my arms rise, cold chills from my head to my toes, yet the warmest, most peaceful feeling in my heart. My message read;

“She is with me.”

So, not only was God reassuring me my child is in Heaven, he was also giving me the gift of knowing my baby was a baby girl. IS a baby girl. In Heaven, waiting to one day meet me…

This is why even when I feel distant from God, and religion, I will never completely lose my faith. I continue to make mistakes in life. I don’t do everything Christians should necessarily do. But the real point that matters is, No one will. This is life and we have to make mistakes, we have to move on, we have to keep trying and learning, but we HAVE to keep a hold of hope and faith. Even If I pass and find out all this hope was nothing but false, I know while I’m here, and I’m alive, it will keep me strong. And for my little girl in Heaven waiting to meet me one day, I will not give up.