Thursday, April 9, 2009
Questions of Faith
I am a person of faith, I am. Is it a perfect faith? Oh. My. God. Far from it. My faith is full of gaping holes. It is a landscape of tall mountains and sharp ravines. There are pure clear lakes, raging rivers and skanky swamps in the landscape of my faith. There are forest fires, volcanic eruptions. There are also peaceful meadows buzzing with chirping crickets, and clear skies spangled with stars.
Is my faith perfect? Hell no! But it is complete, it is whole. I wonder if I can explain this. As often as I believe wholeheartedly, I doubt wholeheartedly. As devout as I am, I speculate, wonder and dismiss. I shift my faith around all the time, reshape it to fit whatever state of mind I'm in. Some days I struggle with all my might to believe in anything. But there is never a day when I disbelieve. Does that make sense?
One thing I don't understand (probably because I've never achieved it) is perfect faith, something that never falters, not ever. I know there are people who have this kind of faith and I salute them even though I don't get it. There are even people whose atheism is flawless and perfect. That anti-faith faith blows my mind.
It occurs to me, though, that if my faith was perfect, I would not be so engaged in the dance of the spirit. There would be no need for the proverbial leaps of faith nor would I ever have to put my critical mind to the task of wondering. My faith is a worthy adversary that keeps me on my toes, makes me think and work every single day. I am so grateful for my imperfect faith. Thanks, God! I mean it, thank you.