Dear Journal 1: Living With Unanswered Prayers and Holding Onto Faith

Hey all. These six posts are from the last two weeks, bringing you up to date on what's been going on with me. I'm all right now, and busy, but I'll try to keep you posted at least once a week regardless.

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Dear Journal

Life is really tough right now. About three weeks ago, around 11PM, my stepdad took my mom to the hospital in the nearby city for what we thought would be a simple colonoscopy.

They kept her overnight. In the morning, running on four hours of sleep, I got an update that they were running a bunch of tests. I found a ride to a baby shower for a friend and kept monitoring my phone. When the shower was over, I stayed with the hostess, another good friend of mine, A. My stepdad kept me updated and I spoke with my mom a few times.

A. is a mom of three and she spent some time cuddling me and praying.

The next day I got a call from my mom. They had done the tests and found cancer in her intestines, and they were about to to operate.

This is going to be a series of posts about how I live with my faith and a seeming lack of answers from God.

Brooke Johnson

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Dear Journal

For one thing, I don’t “get” any of what’s going on right now. We have people coming and going and suddenly mom needs help getting certain things done or getting in and out of certain chairs.

This was supposed to be my year. I’ve got my learner’s permit, I’m graduating, I get to see my favorite band performing…

All those things are still happening, but they’re not happening in quite the fashion that I wanted them to. My first driving lesson was with my grandma, not my stepdad, my graduation plans are up in the air until Mom can get time to input grades and order some things, and we had to call and see about wheelchair access at the auditorium for the concert.

If I sound self-centered, I’m afraid it’s because I am. But in a paradoxical sort of way. I want /my/ schedule to still be going as planned because maybe, somehow, that would mean that we’ve gone back in time and the people I love the most are still okay.

Brooke Johnson.

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Dear Journal

I’m not upset that my mom went to the doctor instead of trying to stay in faith. I’m glad she did, because she was fixing to die if she didn’t.

But that really has left me with some big questions for God. Like, if You promised healing, and she was doing her best to give you the faith she knew, why didn’t You answer before she ended up here?

And here I am, half-journaling, half-ranting about my struggles to hold to a Christian faith instead of writing a 12-page paper on how I think faith is better than doctors.

I don’t know how to talk to God. Part of me knows it doesn’t have to be a perfect, sanitized, saintly prayer, and part of me is afraid He doesn’t want to listen to me rant… or even talk about how happy I am. The closest I get to Him is when I sing. Then everything feels a bit more tangible, a little more like Somebody I could actually learn to love.

But learning to love means trusting my heart to the One who first broke it by taking my dad. Or so it feels, anyways.

It also means being able to accept that I can’t be perfect. That, in the words of a For King and Country song, God really does “love me like I am.”

Brooke Johnson.

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Dear Journal

You know, when my creative writing course listed “pinching the bridge of one’s nose” as a possible gesture to use when you wanted the character’s body language to show stress or frustration, I thought they were crazy?

Well, I’ve caught myself doing it on multiple occasions lately. Somehow, it’s comforting. I guess because you sort of close your eyes and relax for a moment when you do it. And I need to relax. This entire mess has me all keyed up.

Especially when I see my mom feeling overwhelmed and crying and my stepdad trying to help. Sure makes me wonder what the point of all this is.

Brooke Johnson

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Dear Journal

Books make a great escape but they are temporary. And I should know that trying to read an hour before bed lands me in the middle of the book where I’ll tell myself, “Only so-and-so more pages. I can finish.”

Anyways. My writing and composing on my banjo make a nice retreat from the madness. How do you combat mental overload, anyways? I need to look up some scriptures on that, to go with Isaiah 26:3’s, “I will keep in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on me.”

Maybe I can post a list of them here. Or ask Kiera, my usual scripture poster to do so. It would be good for me to look them up though. We’ll see.

I’m working on writing a song with my banjo. I have the chords, I just need a third verse and an ending. I really like it though. After I finish it, I think I’ll try to write some sort of fight song like We the Kingdom’s “Don’t Tread On Me.” Not that elaborate, but something to get people excited.

I never did finish my “phoenix” song… more on that soon!

Brooke Johnson

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Dear Journal

Songwriting is something of a battle between the words you want to say and the conceivable amount of skill you have to put music to it.

Right now my current song in progress is a prayer to the Lord about the ongoing situation with my mom. It's sort of from the point of view of the 100th sheep from the story of the 99. The sheep is complaining a bit, but it also trusts that it will be led home.

Waking up at three am to help somebody stand from a seat is exhausting, but looking back, it gives me sympathy for the person who is having to humble themselves and ask for help with a task which most of us don’t give a second thought to.

Like, if I’m this groggy and sourpuss, how do I think the other party is feeling about it? Probably hurt because I had a bad attitude (sorry!), and embarrassed, and of course they also would rather be in bed, but they needed to use the facilities.

Do I want to be home in Heaven, where nothing is frustrating or overwhelming? Of course. Am I ready to go? No, because I think I still have work to do here, and even if you can’t miss people in Heaven, I feel like I’d miss the people still here on Earth.

Brooke Johnson