Faith!

I've been having a rough day, week, month(s).  It happens to the best of us and as always it seems when it rains, it pours.  My troubles are not different than anyone else's and certainly not more significant.

I wondered what do others do to get through their rough times?

Running or working out often burns off some of the pent up anger or energy.  

In contrast, relaxing in a warm bubble bath or with a glass of wine help melt trouble away.  

I've tried, and frequently use all of these techniques; however, my tried and true is prayer. 

Now, I consider myself a religious person but not a shout it from the rooftops, church every Sunday type (although writing a blog post about my faith may lead you to believe otherwise).  I truly prefer to think of my faith as a personal relationship with the big guy/gal upstairs.  

It's been a long and winding path that got me to this point.  From a young age my father made sure I was in church each Sunday.  Much to my dismay,  I sat politely with my hands folded and head down trying to force myself to believe that church was my ticket to heaven.  My sisters and I then filed out of the sanctuary trying to beat the rush to doughnuts and lemonade without actually running.  We would socialize and meander until we heard our father's booming laugh from one of the atrium corners.   

My father's laugh can fill a room; to this day it is often how I locate him in a large crowd.

The three of us would then beg Dad to leave so we could return to a day of "normalcy."

In addition to 18 years of Sunday mornings, I also attended 10 years of parochial school where religion classes were a core part of the curriculum.  Year after year, I sat in a classroom with my closest friends studying bible scriptures, theology, and various belief systems.  My friends and I were often times required to attend mass during the school week.  

I thought to myself, I attend church 2x/week, study theology 3x/week, and overall live a wholesome life.  

I must be leaps and bounds ahead of society. 

It wasn't until I was on my own that I realized how much I relied on that time.  Somewhere in the 18 years, my relationship with church transformed from a requirement to a necessity.  I needed that time to keep myself grounded.  I don't claim to be the perfect Catholic. I still skip church more often than I would like to admit but I always seem to find some time to reflect and pray during the week.

Now, I am most comfortable praying as if I'm having a conversation with an old friend.  Much like friendships change, my relationship with God has changed.  I no longer approach him with a laundry list of things I need/want/must have.

I now ask my old friend for advice, guidance, and strength.

What helps you through the rough patches?  Has this changed over the years?