It is so rare that I talk about God. Why? He's a constant in my life. I just know he is there. I don't really have to think about him. I think I assume others know this about me.
When I was little, I never understood why we were supposed to bow our heads when we prayed to God. I wanted to look right at him. Sing to him. Thank him. Look into his eyes and see as much as I could. I thought it was silly to bow our heads when he so clearly knew us.
As I got older, I always knew God was with me. People used to tell me I was lucky. Or that things "always just had a way of working out." I would only smile. That was God! I know my hard work, perseverance, and voraciousness played a part, but not in as much as they thought.
When I had the boys, I questioned my faith. How in the hell could God have possibly done that to me? I questioned everything. I didn't understand why someone who loved me so much could have a hand in something so awful as what happened to me. I was shattered; physically, emotionally and spiritually.
I am not going to lie to you that I have my ups and downs with God to this day. Sometimes raising children with special needs (saying the words special needs still makes me cringe) makes me want to throw in the towel, cry, laugh, and punch the air violently. But through it all I see Him. In Summy laughing on the swing tonight; in Jack's giggle as I tickle his neck. I also see Him in the sad, scary loop Summy paces in the driveway with the watering can, wearing his vest and chanting to himself and looking even to an outside observer as something to be pitied. I know God is there, and here, and with me. I love Him for giving it all to me and trusting that I can handle it and knowing I can see Him through it all. I want to look into his eyes sometimes though and understand better.