God Is Not Dead

A Story of Faith Written by Johanna Trainer

And God keeps on showing up, keeps on loving me, keeps on showing His grace and His blessing, whispering and comforting: It’s ok, it’s safe, I AM safe. 

I’ve not always believed God is good.

How is that for an entry on our Savior entering this world to redeem us? Of course, it’s more complicated than that. I know He is good. I understand it on an intellectual level, like I know the planet Earth turns. But I haven’t always felt it in my bones.

I heard the bells on Christmas day

I grew up in France, a very secular country, to parents who were not religious. I came to know God when I was about eight years old, thanks to my grandmother. I loved God and the church with all the strength of my naïve and child-like heart. But in my young mind, the image the stories from the Bible depicted was that of an angry, jealous God who could strike at His people at any time. Ah yes, the Old testament’s God… What a joy to read these stories at eight without understanding any context whatsoever. The “fear of God” became real. I became literally scared of God and scared of messing up. But still, I loved Him, believed every Bible story literally, and threatened my non-believer parents with eternal hell--which, to this day, is one of my dad’s favorite stories to tell. I went to mass, was a choir girl, and decided to be baptized at nine. I was all in.

And then my biological dad died when I was almost 12 and I broke up with God.

And in despair I bowed my head
There is no peace on earth I said

My little brain couldn’t understand how God could do this to me. I had loved Him so much, I feared Him so much, and then I denied Him a presence in my life with that same intensity.

As I grew, my mom became more and more depressed and more dependent on alcohol. She was a very angry, and violent drunk. She was never physically violent toward me -others in my immediate family didn’t have that luck- but she could cut me up with her words. We lived together but were lonely in the way we coped. 

Life went on -- friends, boyfriends, good grades, etc. My mom tried to stop drinking, but to no avail. And like many kids in that kind of situation, I became more resilient. I chose a high school and then a university and then a husband, all far away from home. I went from goal to goal to goal. 

And I did it without God… Or so I thought.

I didn’t come back to God until the year I met my husband, and even then, I was extremely hesitant. He was an exchange student from California and some of the female students in his group formed a prayer group. I decided to join, out of nowhere. I wanted American friends and if prayers could get me to my dream -attending an American University- then it couldn’t hurt to try. These friends encouraged me to dream big and believed God could make my wish happen. But the intense love I felt in my first years of believing was gone, replaced by skepticism and doubt. I was burned once. I didn’t want to believe and be disappointed again. When people told me to imagine God as a parent, the image I had was that of my mom. Both were loving, yes, (oh, my mom loved us so) but also prone to retaliation and likely to lash out in anger. God-as-parent was not safe. So I walked on eggshells around God. I went back, slowly. I prayed. I read authors whose views on God and doubt made me feel understood and ok--Rachel Held Evans, Glennon Doyle, Anne Lamott. I also admired authors whose unbound love for love didn’t make them what I consider fanatics -Jen Hatmaker, Sarah Bessey. These people love God and love justice. That I could do!

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail

I have worked in the humanitarian sector for about 15 years now. It is difficult to see God amongst the worst crimes against humanity, the worst crimes against children. When I started, I wondered whether thinking of God as an all-loving being was reserved for the privileged of this world. But then I saw poor people, broken people, people on the brink of death loving God and trusting God. I saw Women who had survived sexual violence in the Congo, and who had every excuse to be angry with God, pray, worship, and rejoice in their God. If they could do it, why not me? Am I so spoiled that I need reassurance after reassurance that He loves ME, that He revels in me, that He is my loving father? 

A few years back I dreamt that God tried to make me see how much He loved me and how my reaction hurt Him by comparing that situation to unrequited love. I don’t remember much about the dream. I was standing at a train station and God came to me as a friend. He said something like this: 

Imagine loving someone so much and they never believe that you do, they always doubt you, they never return your love. You have to show them you love them over and over again, and you do it willfully but still, they doubt you. How would you feel? 

Wow! That message was loud and clear. When I woke up I felt convicted, loved, and a deep sense of peace came upon me.

I now see God’s goodness in my sons when they sleep, in the intricate details of their hands. I now know He provides for me thanks to the husband I have and the friends He sent me at the exact moment I needed them the most. I now acknowledge He surrounds me with the most loving family, especially my brother, my dad (who adopted me after my biological dad died), and my everloving grandma, and a community of a few precious friends who make life fun and fulfilling. 

I know He loves me. 

In a way, it’s easier to doubt God and be self-reliant than to kneel at the throne and ask for help. It’s easier to doubt than to be completely, utterly vulnerable, raw, and in unknown territory. It’s like a trust exercise with the most loving and loyal person. And God keeps on showing up, keeps on loving me, keeps on showing His grace and His blessing, whispering and comforting: It’s ok, it’s safe, I AM safe. 

Then rang the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor does he sleep 

Now, more than ever, it’s easy to look out in this world and wonder if God is really there, and if He is, is He awake to all that is happening: from pandemics to fires, child trafficking to wars? Now is exactly the time to recognize that not only is God awake, but He is awake in me and you. God is awake in the little things and, as hard as it may be to see, in the big things too. No matter where we are on our faith journey. No matter how little or how much we trust God, He is there, lovingly watching over us.

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior (Isaiah 49:1-3)