The article of the month

by Jennifer Hubbard

After she died I would whisper, plead, and beg for a sign. I would search the horizon and scour the skies for something—anything—to confirm the eternity in which she now existed. While I know with my every fiber there will be a time when I will rest in the light of his face and dance in the meadows with my little one, after she died my faith was shaken and I needed something, anything, to help my heart trust what my mind knew.

I wonder, now, if my searching and seeking was not much different from Thomas’. He, too, was shaken and wanted a sign. He had followed his teacher through trials and tribulations. He had seen miracles in his midst and, just when the promises of the future seemed endless, his leader was led to the cross and hanged, scourged, broken, and bruised. When a heart is cracked open and what could have been is no longer a possibility, how can one not question, wonder, and doubt?

I have come to understand that the wondering, the doubts, and the questions are a grace. They are the gateway to a true authentic dialogue with the one who already knows. He already knows and is waiting only for me to share freely and openly. He knew what Thomas needed, just as he knows what I am seeking and delivers the sunset emblazoned with the same hues as her hair, the bird that gracefully swoops through the air, or a simple sweet smile. My Lord and my God meets me with gentle assurance and answers my questioning, doubting heart.  

Jennifer Hubbard resides in Newtown, Conn. The younger of her two children, Catherine Violet, was a victim of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in 2012.