Finding Hope after Abuse

traces of hope

How do I process my grief?
Does suffering have any meaning?
Do we live in a random chaotic universe?
Is it time to re-evaluate my understanding of “God”?

This book is for anyone who has suffered a loss – of safety, of one’s home, of health, of a loved one or a relationship, or of one’s faith … and found themselves asking, “Why?” And then wondering, “Who am I asking?” and hoping they were not alone.

http://www.amazon.com/Traces-Hope-Surviving-Grief-Loss/dp/1937943275

Traces of Hope

Over the past few years I have used the opportunity offered by this blog to reflect on many aspects of my healing from sexual abuse by Catholic priests.

I have a new book coming out that tells the story of my healing journey and my journey through grief and loss if you are interested in my full story.

http://www.amazon.com/Traces-Hope-Surviving-Grief-Loss/dp/1937943275/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1426982211&sr=1-1&keywords=Mona+villarrubia

Spiritual Drought

I haven’t been able to attend church regularly for three years now and I miss it. I miss the music and the words of the scriptures, the security and comfort of a religious practice. But more than that I miss my faith in God. I had felt so close to God for so much of my life, even when I was fighting with God there was still the closeness. But now it is the emptiness that hurts…like the nightmare of coming home to find your parents have moved and the house is empty. Absolute existential aloneness.

So I try not to think so much and instead I try to “be.” I find that just paying attention to the world around me reminds me of the miracle of it all. It is a miracle that anything IS. And yet here we are. I don’t know why or by whose agency life exists, but I know it does. I know that I am going to sing Handel’s Messiah in December. I know that last weekend I heard the symphony play Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. I know that today I had a wonderful morning walking in the French Quarter and sharing a meal with my husband. I know that three birds flew into the courtyard and up into the blue sky. I know that I could feel the sun and breathe the cool, crisp air of the fall. These things I know. And these moments of wonder and beauty keep me going.

Faith

Faith is a demanding lover – tempestuous, moody, hot and cold, constant and traitorous. You give it everything and wake to find it disappearing like cigarette smoke on a damp, misty night. When you need it most it seems to have abandoned you. But sometimes, sometimes, it offers you a gentle kiss of transcendence.