How can a brain lose faith? Is there a cranial lobe that guides our spirituality?
There must be. And in an accident I lost it.
The seizure was bad. The coma sucked. The daily headaches broke me and required daily Vicodin. But the worst result of getting a traumatic brain injury?
My brain has misplaced faith. Of all my brain injury doctors, speech therapists, and neurologists, none of them were assigned to help correct or medicate my spirit.
I lost my sense of smell as a result of the brain injury — not because my nose can't sniff, but because my brain can no longer receive and process smell. But I don't understand how my sense of spirit connects to my head. I'm not sure who does understand that.
Since receiving a severe brain injury, my spirit has become a critic. I believe good things won't last or aren't really true. I now instinctually conclude that bad things will happen if I am involved with them. I question everything good. My wonderful husband often has to try and convince me, "This isn't a dream. We are really together." It is somehow hard for my brain to believe.
Sometimes I don't blame the brain injury. Instead I blame the location in which I received the brain injury — Malawi, Africa. I blame the sight of the HIV and poverty, and the questions lacking any good answers that seeing them brought me. Or I blame the cancer that stole one of my parents too early.
Either way, I always blame God.
But do I give God enough credit? Do I put a fair amount of time and energy into appreciating the good that exists? Perhaps I can at least split time evenly between thanking God and insulting God. Perhaps that will guide my vision more clearly.
Save me, God,
For the waters have reached my
I have sunk into the mire of the deep,
where there is no foothold.
I have gone down to the watery depths;
the flood overwhelms me.
I am weary with crying out;
my throat is parched.
My eyes have failed,
looking for my God.