This is the conclusion of a five-part entry written by “Anonymous”.
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4

Keep Calm and Carry On

When I was a young mother, I distinctly remember thinking about how difficult it would be to have a child come to you and declare they were gay or lesbian and my heart was repulsed at the image. I thought, ‘Please God, not that. Anything but that! I just wouldn’t know what to do!’ And the immediate response in my mind was, ‘Actually, it’s precisely that you will have to face. One day.’ I pushed that thought far back in my mind. Until now.

I am told to go to St. Monica. And I do. I am told to have Faith. And Hope. And that it’s not too late as long as my daughter is alive. And I do, and I know, and I agree. However, what I have come to realize is that God’s timeline is not mine. It doesn’t matter how many times someone says to me – and I have to say, usually a well-meaning soul who has young children – “It will be okay. She’ll come back” there is the very real possibility that I may never see it. None of us may. It may end up being just between her and God and I may not even be in this life to see it. God didn’t give me that guarantee, to witness her return to her faith, to her family, to her very self. No. I realize more and more that he is asking me to be faithful. Simple. And difficult. Extremely difficult. Because no matter how many novenas I do or extra rosaries or votive masses, there’s a touch of pride, even there! Of course I want my daughter to come back to her faith and be fulfilled by the only One who can truly fill her heart; but I want this wound to be gone! I want to not hurt any longer. And that’s my pride. Ego is everywhere! Moreover, if I am to believe that God is all-loving, that he knows what is best for me and those that I love and have committed to him, that he will only do what is best for all of us, then aren’t I supposed to accept this wound? Not only that, but aren’t I supposed to will this wound?

I am reminded that in this suffering, I am following in Our Lord’s path. I am learning that I may carry this ache my entire life. There is no guarantee it will be healed before I die. God never said He would heal all our suffering in this life. He does ask us however to persevere. That’s all. To keep marching. Fidelity. And if I believe that He is an all-loving God, then somehow, I must bend my will to desire what He desires. Not grudgingly so, but joyfully. I must be joyful to suffer in this way. For my daughter. For my other children. For my husband, and family, my mother and father, the Church. Whatever He wants. I just live out this faith. Not check boxes and expect a ribbon at the finish line. Christ didn’t check boxes. I pray I can be Mary to others. To be compassion to my brothers and sisters in Christ when they walk the road of suffering.

Jesus asked, ‘Who do you say I am?’ If we say He is the Son of the Living God, he simply responds:

‘Then pick up your cross. Follow me.’

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The opinions and experiences expressed in each blog entry in “The Upper Room” belong solely to the original authors and do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of Courage International, Inc. Some entries have been edited for length and clarity.