Into the light, my journey in faith.

It was raining heavily that evening as I approached Starbucks coffee shop, I looked at my watch, I was a little early, 15 minutes or so, it looked busy, maybe I should pass some time in the library next door.

The library was warm and dry, I left my umbrella next to the door and wandered in. Wet and windswept, what on earth was I doing this dark cold Friday evening ? Should I turn back? What if I cant find who I’m looking for, will I be accepted? As I walked over to the back wall of the cavernous main room, fully set at this point on meandering around the shelves, grabbing a book and going home, there it was, a sign clearer than no other I had walked straight over to a display of books about Jerusalem and Israel. If I needed a nudge to meet the Rabbi and attend Shabbat at the Synagogue that night, that was it, plain as day. This story is not the story of high school sweethearts, of true love. Its my story, and probably a mirror of many out there, truthful and honest. Its a story of life and faith, of growth and renewal, of walking paths in darkness to light. Of second chances, ultimately of Gods love and the love and respect of one human being to another.

I grew up in this outskirts of Manchester in an area which is now considered to be one of the most deprived in the U.K. My mum worked two jobs at a time, she always picked us up from school, she was and still is the perfect mum, ever loving and giving. We were not a ‘Catholic family’ as you would consider us to be. We didn’t consistently attend church, we went on feast days and notably at Easter and Christmas, myself and my brothers went to the local Catholic Primary School. I suppose you could call us Christmas Catholics, for me though the Church was always a place of comfort as little as we went and as far as I was from a ‘practising’ Catholic by age seven I was convinced I would find a vocation in it. My uncle bought me a snow globe of the Crucifixion, and there he was on my windowsill Jesus in all his passion with his mother by his side, the morning sun casting light and shadows onto my bedroom walls. I guess Christ has always been part of my life, even when I felt the contrary. I received the Sacraments of Reconciliation, Confirmation and Holy Communion, taking Bernadette as my Christian name and I grew in love for the Lord over those years.

As high school approached and university beckoned I carried on my journey of faith, when I started going out socialising with my friends, I was the one with the ‘granny skirts’ never above the knee, modesty always made sense to me, guarding who I was, I was more a fan of Grace Kelly than any pop idol of the day and I guess my dress reflected that too. I started university I began to read more and more about other religions, my faith in Jesus faded away and I began to question the validity of the resurrection, the state of the world when God has walked amongst us. Surely if it were true we all should be united in faith and love? Not waging war? These questions led me down many a path until I discovered Judaism. The more I read the more it made sense to me. I emailed the Rabbi multiple times to no response a test of faith and testament to my determination, eventually I emailed again and he replied inviting me to meet for Shabbat the following Friday.

So Friday it was, and here and I was now stood, library books in hand outside Starbucks on Mount Street in the pouring rain. ‘We will be at the table facing the door’ the Rabbi had told me ‘You will easily find us’. Sheer panic set in when I realised that there were in fact four tables facing the door and I had no idea who I was meeting. Now I was and still am to some extent quiet in a way, I am not socially forward, but faith moves mountains it seems, and I asked every table in Starbucks that night if they were the group from the Synagogue, to be met with awkward looks and shaken heads. Eventually a lady walked in, and something told me I should ask her. I did and indeed she was part of the group. I attended Synagogue that night and felt I found my place. Time went on, I continued my journey of faith, until one evening many months later in the Synagogue like a lightening bolt, Jesus came back into my life.

‘This is what Jesus would have grown up experiencing’ I thought as I listened to the most beautiful worship in Hebrew, and there it was, all the love and warmth, came flooding back in that Holy space. I felt as if Jesus had just given me a crash course in his journey. That night I removed my Star of David from around my neck placed it so reverently in my jewellery box and thanked God for his love, compassion and light.

It was my last year of university, I had lots of personal anguish, my younger brother had just received a lifesaving Kidney transplant and the term before we graduated my much loved tutor and mentor Boris Trambusti suddenly died. I don’t remember much of those last months of university, my work suffered, I suffered and even though I had been on the most amazing journey in faith I didn’t find my solace in Jesus and in prayer. I found my solace in love, young love, the love of that of my first husband. A big beaming smile, British Chinese he was handsome and charismatic with a magnetic personality.

Our relationship was great at first, it was an all encompassing love, we were great friends, but his love crossed the boundary into jealousy and possession. Evenings with my friends at a local karaoke night started to fade away, and my whole world became about him. We got engaged and at 23 I fell pregnant with my first born son, pregnancy was difficult and that’s when the verbal abuse started, I couldn’t do anything right, but I got through and I was overjoyed when I gave birth. Holding my son in my arms I felt so much awe and wonder. We plodded through early parenthood in a haze, planning our wedding, I wanted to get married in church, but he wasn’t religious and didn’t see the importance in it, so I threw myself into cakes, flowers, dresses and all the trimmings to plan the perfect day for us. We married near his family home in Cambridge followed by a Chinese wedding the following day.

Our relationship didn’t get any better though, we welcomed our daughter the year after we were married and that’s when physical abuse started. Ive always played out the scenario in my head “If a man ever hits me its over, I don’t deserve that” But when you have your four month baby in your arms and your three year old son by your side it changes into something else..”Its because I answered back, he wont do it again” But he did, in moments of anger and frustration. I took deep refuge in my faith and through that and the support of my parish priest who had been a lifelong presence in my life. I sought help for us both through Anger management, but was met with lies and disinterest, as a last resort I asked if we could work through our marriage and take our vows in church, he turned up to only one of the pre-marital sessions, but I carried on, this was my cross to bear, I prayed to St Monica. Then one day all of a sudden I didn’t. The last nail was put in the coffin and after a birthday evening out with my mum to see Michael Buble in concert I had enough . “ I didn’t get to the age I am and marry you to make my own f?@£ing pancake, go and make one NOW” he said. That was it, finished. Sorry Lord Jesus, but I had nothing left to give, after a decade there was no love or respect left in my marriage.

I spent mothers days and birthdays alone, I carried on helping in church, setting up a coffee morning and children's liturgy, I cared for my Nanna every day who had dementia in between childminding , then one day I began dating. Eventually I opened my heart and I met my now husband, we laughed we talked about everything I had met my soulmate. As we sat every weekend prolonging his journey all the way home on the tram, taking in those last moments of seeing each other, I felt the Lord has guided me to him. I felt I had found home. The months drifted by as we fell more and more in love with each other, he attended Church with me and stood alone for the most part whilst I ran the Sunday school with the children, we eventually decided to live together.

In December of 2016 my husband asked me to marry him. We excitedly began talking about getting married, I wanted to get married in church and we sat down and talked to my Parish Priest, then sadly in the spring of 2017 we had the devastating news his dear Baba had passed away suddenly. A light had certainly left, we were looking to buy a house at the time and so threw ourselves into that, into work, and into living, we decided to have a baby in the autumn of that year. By this point I had stopped attending church, we had moved house and my children ended up attending a non-denominational school due to no spaces in the local catholic school. Faith became distant for me and we decided for want to just be married, in a very small civil ceremony with only immediate family present the summer before the birth of our daughter. A big wedding didn’t feel right after the passing of his Baba. So we had a small and beautiful day. My dear Nanna passed away after the birth of our daughter, and it took me on a journey of soul searching. My discovery of Waldorf Education and giving our daughter a slow and unhurried childhood led me down a rabbit hole of learning about the work and writings of Austrian philosopher Rudolf Steiner. It fascinated me, his nature of Christianity.

The Pandemic hit, I began creating packs exploring other cultures which I love so much! I was so blessed and fortunate to have started a little business, it felt like the world was gearing me up for something, a feeling of anticipation almost, but I couldn’t work out what for. The world and spirituality for me was all of a sudden an overwhelmingly beautiful place, but at that moment I couldn’t have felt further from God. The more I learned about the practices and beliefs of others, the more a black hole I felt I was sinking into, I felt void of God, like he had left my side, the next twelve months in the pandemic I tried to fill the void reading everything I could about other religions, other belief systems. I felt lost, like I was grasping at straws to pull me into the light. Then on the first of May this year, whilst I was sat feeling rather deflated about the current state of the world, I remembered this Sunday was my one of my favourite masses at Church, where we would crown Our Lady. Just like that lightening bolt that came in the synagogue, God flooded my heart but this time was different I felt his love, warmth and humility, like a light had enveloped me and I was no longer in that dark place. Everything made sense, my vocation to my family and other families, all this work I had been doing supporting others is what I am here for. I have invited God into my home, through my work, and my husband although atheist is supportive and gracious of my journey and I thank him wholeheartedly for that everyday. I have invited God into my heart and feel open and ready for the journey I am on, no matter where it takes me

“You have dealt well with your servant,

O’Lord according to your word.

Teach me good judgement and knowledge,

For I believe in your commandments.

Before I was humbled I went astray,

But now I keep your word.

Psalm 119 : 66-67