Many times in life the most difficult situations we face come without warning, without a chance to ask questions or understand the magnitude of what’s before us. It leaves us asking, “Where is God in this? How can he let this happen? Where is he when I suffer?”
We want to pull back. We want to guard ourselves and our hearts. The reality is that God is not punishing us, but rather inviting us into a life that makes us see him more clearly and embrace him more fully. God will take the most dismal of circumstances and create the most beautiful life we could have ever imagined.
I was born and raised Catholic. I knew my faith. I loved my faith. In 2009 it was tested. I was in my early 20s, newly married, pregnant and ecstatic at the thought of beginning this beautiful life. Excitement turned to sadness as the pregnancy progressed. Our baby boy was given a diagnosis of holoprosencephaly, a brain malformation, with life-threatening statistics and a 3% survival rate. Life as I imagined started to quickly fade.
Fear shook my soul. Fear made me vulnerable. The Church was the stronghold in my life that weathered the storm before me. She was a friend that had been there my whole life. I was scared and I clung to her. She gave me a compass and hugged my heart as I navigated a world trying to instill doubt into my soul. Every time it threatened fear, God gave me hope. When it told me I would never be happy, God gave me the deepest joy I could have ever imagined. When the world offered to give me an “out” through abortion, God clung to my heart and promised purpose beyond my understanding.
The trust you give God in the moment when you have nothing left to give is a moment that will define you. You will never be the same.
In the face of sadness and adversity, the Church remained my anchor and wrapped me in her truth: the truth that the child I carried was not a body that was broken, but a carefully created soul given to me to tell a story. What a mighty story it was! I journeyed with a boy who never said a word, but touched people’s hearts. A boy who never took a step, but left footprints everywhere he went. In the eyes of the world, this little child would be quickly dismissed, but with each passing day, I embraced the journey before me and watched my whole life and those of others transform into who we should all be. His sweet soul taught us to open our hearts a little wider, love a little deeper and give more of ourselves to others so that through our lives, we may radiate God’s love and light.
Fear could have stolen every moment, but courage changed the world. My sweet Levi lived for five years. In his eulogy, I prayed a prayer that I often did throughout his life: “God, grant me a miracle. If a miracle is not your will give me the strength to get through this.” It echoed in my heart that day with a different sound. For Levi’s entire life, I was praying that God might change my circumstance, when really God was using the circumstance to change me. God knows what we need, loves us infinitely, and he longs for our trust. When we open our hearts to him, he fills us with a deep unshakeable joy that fills our lives, our souls and our whole world.
Rickert, 34, is a home builder and real estate developer, motivational speaker and parishioner of Immaculate Conception in Lonsdale. She and husband, Josh, live south of Lakeville, with their children Gianna and Bennett, and with Levi in their hearts. She can be reached at [email protected].
“Why I am Catholic” is a new ongoing series in The Catholic Spirit. Want to share why you’re Catholic? Submit your story in 300-500 words to [email protected] with “Why I Am Catholic” in the subject line.
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