Sometimes I ask my Higher Power questions.

Sometimes I ask my Higher Power for signs.

Sometimes I ask… but I don’t listen… or ignore signs once they appear.

A friend once said to me, “Remember, when you ask God a question, don’t forget what the question was by the time he answers it!”

I was always asking questions and asking for signs and then forgetting to listen or watch for them to appear.

One day, I was hiking on a path.

I was having a moment where I was lacking faith and I was questioning my Higher Power.

I was feeling abandoned in my time of need.

I asked my Higher Power to give me a sign… a sign to let me know that I was not alone… that a spiritual being was with me in my time of need.

I allowed my mind to become quiet as I hiked slowly up the path.

I listened to the sound of my breathing… to the sound of the ocean… to the wind blowing through the brush.

I watched my footing on the path and took it slow.

Suddenly, there was a small white feather laying in the middle of the path. I first walked past it, not really thinking much about it, but something inside of me said, “Turn around and pick that feather up… it is a sign from your Higher Power.” I turned around, picked it up, and then continued up the path.

I was almost to the top when I noticed a small turn out. I walked over and sat down on the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean.

I sat and cried.

I cried feeling so lost and alone.

Where was my Higher Power?

Where was my faith?

How was I to walk through this pain?

How did others walk through this pain?

I reached in my pocket for a tissue to wipe my face and the small white feather fluttered out of my hands. It started to catch in the breeze and blow off into the sky when the wind changed direction and sent the feather back into my hand.

I calmed my mind.

I quieted my tears.

I listened.

Something told me to get up… to get back on the path and walk on. I stood up, dusted myself off and did just that. It was just a few steps more to the top of the hill… to the end of the path.

When I turned the last curve of the trail, I found a giant wooden cross, standing in front of a bench, looking out over the ocean.

I sat on the bench and stared at the cross in awe.

It did not matter that the sign was significant of a specific religion.

What mattered was the sign was a spiritual one.

Something inside of me said, “You see? You were just a few steps away from faith… if you had stopped, you would still be choosing to walk this path in fear… alone.”

I realized then that I had to believe.

I  had to watch for signs and believe my questions would be answered… in time.

If I wasn’t walking in faith…then I was choosing to walk alone and in fear.

“Dear God, help me to listen. Help me to look for your signs. Remind me that I can have faith if I choose to walk with you instead of walking alone in fear.”

I didn’t want to go on the weekend retreat.

I had planned and paid for my trip while I was still trying to work things out with my husband.

I was going with people who were trying to work things out in their lives and I felt like I was already a failure… an outcast of the group.

I was fearful to leave my children behind during this troubled time.

I felt that it was my responsibility to stay with them until things were calm again.

I almost didn’t go but… I went.

On the boat over to Catalina Island, I stood outside in the cold sea air. The sea was rough and the bow of the boat slapped hard into each of of the crests and dips as we headed toward the island. I had to hold on to the rail so that I wouldn’t fall. I had to accept that I may get cold and wet if I wanted to stand outside and enjoy the sea air. I kept looking back to my home, at the city I lived in. I thought of my husband and I wondered what he was doing with his new life.  I thought of my children and wondered what they were doing right now without me. I felt dread at the thought of my family being split up all over the city and the loss of my dreams.

I watched the mainland fade farther and farther away. I looked forward, but all I could see was the ocean… The island was nowhere in sight.

I knew it was there.

I knew that somewhere out in the ocean was the place that I would land but still… it did not appear.

Then… the ocean surrounded me… no land in any direction.

I felt fearful.

I felt that it was symbolic of my life.

I could no longer look back to the shore of my marriage, and I was unable to look ahead toward the shore of my future.

A new and different life lay ahead and like the island that I was going to, it would provide a stable landing spot once my my boat came in from sea.

I would have to trust that it was out there… even if I couldn’t see it.

The boat continued on… fighting the rough seas. It dipped and slapped and rocked and swayed and I held on.

I was a little scared.

I was also exhilarated.

I smiled and tried to find enjoyment in what I could see.

We passed sea lions swimming fast and hard… birds coasting on the ocean breeze or diving in long straight lines into the sea.

I wondered if the boat would stay afloat each time a large wave slapped up and sprayed across my face and then laughed at myself. How many times had this boat crossed this rough passage to land? Others had crossed this passage as well. I was not alone. I was not the only one who had felt scared and stuck and “in between.”

Suddenly, the island appeared out of the ocean mist ahead of me and I could once again see the shore. It wasn’t a familiar shore… It wasn’t what I was used to seeing.

I smiled to myself.

I looked back once more, still searching for the familiar outline of the mainland but… there was nothing to see.

The mainland was gone.

The island was the only place to land.

The only land in sight.

It may not be the land I wanted… I may not have wanted to go on the retreat… but that was beside the point.

It was where I now was.

“Dear God, help me to walk through the in-between times. The times when I don’t know where my life is going. Let me have faith in your plan for me. Let me believe that there is a stable shore where I will soon land.”

When I would leave my job at lunch time, I would find myself walking somberly to my car, quietly opening the gate at work, quietly opening the door to the car… no expressions crossing my face… the perfect picture of calm yet once inside my vehicle: the tears would flow. I couldn’t stop it. I would find myself crying each time I reached the sanctity of my car. It wasn’t just a lunch time thing. I could be driving to the store, coming home from the gym, heading back from taking the kids to a water polo practice… always alone in my car when suddenly… the tears would flow. I would sob like an injured child. Sob, trying to find a way to come to terms with my loss. I would try to understand. I would try to find logic, but I just couldn’t. They were feelings and my feelings had to be released through tears. Tears are good for us. They clean our souls. They help us to heal from our wounds. They provide a much needed release from our stress and our pain. Allow yourself to cry. Allow yourself your own private place, your own sanctuary, where you will not be disturbed…where your tears can flow freely until they flow no more. Cry. Allow yourself to cry. Allow yourself to release your pain through your tears and when you are through, take a deep breath, calm your mind, and go back to the business of your day. “Dear God, help me to work through my feelings. Allow my tears to flow and clean my soul of pain. Allow me to express my sadness through the release of crying.”