"Do you still believe in God?"

My response to a widow who asked the question:

I have spent a long time thinking about how to respond to this thread. Any of you who know me or who have read my previous posts know that as an Eastern Catholic I absolutely reject the idea of God having caused/allowed Nick to die of a brain tumor, that I reject the idea of God needing Nick more or of God wanting Nick to be in a better place, that I firmly believe that God weeps with me, that God did not create us for pain and death but for love and glory. I’ve written words to that effect in a number of other threads.

But I think I want to say more here.

Thirty years ago, I utterly rejected God. Any God who would allow me to have such a life of pain was no God that I wanted anything to do with. But God did not reject me, and I eventually realized that I owed my very life to God, and not just my existence as part of creation. And so I gave myself into God’s hands and started a journey that over 15 years led from atheism to the Eastern Catholic Church.

Nick and I gave ourselves to each other and our love to God. He dedicated himself to serving God and loving his family. I don’t need to tell any of you that when he died, I died as well. My world was torn asunder, my heart ripped into shreds. I lay down and wailed and gnashed my teeth like a wounded animal. But I didn’t die. I could not believe that I didn’t die. So I stood up and did the only thing I could: I took a deep breath and stepped gently into the next moment. And the next one. And the next one. And I know that I did not breathe or step under my own power, that I was held secure by the protective presence of God, supported by the compassionate prayers of my friends and family.

Do I still believe in God? I believe in God more completely now than I ever have in my life. As Nick lay dying in the ICU, I finally understood one of the core teachings of my church: That Death is an insult to God, the only power in the universe not created by God. I looked at my beloved and knew that the tumor in his brain was a monster straight from the bowels of hell, a manifestation of Evil in the world. I even tried to exorcize the demon, calling on all the powers of heaven to cast the monster back to hell whence it came. And when my beloved died, I wept and wept and wept — and I knew that God wept with me, that my tears and God’s tears were indistinguishable.

And now, nearly 9 months later... I still step gently into the next moment. I still know that my tears are one with God’s tears. I still place myself in God’s hands. I still lean on the prayers of my faith community. And I feel myself standing taller, my roots growing deeper.

I did not mean to write so much... but once I got started I couldn't stop.