My unfiltered thoughts about everything.
Faith is standing on the edge of everything you can see, and stepping off. It’s coming into contact with every fear you’ve ever known, and more that you don’t. Faith is knowing. It’s above deception, above human capacity. It’s the notion of freedom encapsulated in one word.There’s nothing else quite like it.
For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be a Christian. Nothing about my personality lends itself to believing in something I can’t see with my own two eyes. I’m engineered to be cynical, to be leery of EVERYTHING. So, when I happen to mention that I believe in God, and His Son, people are usually surprised. I don’t blame them. A quick gander at this blog or my Facebook wall will tell you I have a bullshit detector armed at all times, that I assume people lie about a great many things. I question what I hear and see by default. Faith, for me, though, is the one thing I’ve never had an issue with. It’s just different, somehow.
The truth is, I am attracted to faith like I’m attracted to sex. It’s this wonderful, sacred experience that I will never fully comprehend, but it feels so incredible, so out of this world phenomenal, that I can’t imagine life without it. I let all of my inhibitions go when I chose to believe. It’s another tier of existence. There’s something about being up on the wire, with fire below, and having the presence of belief to still myself, to not be shaken. There’s no fear for me in faith, no doubt. It isn’t that its easy. Easy is overrated. I don’t want to believe. I have to believe. I have to put that much of myself into this idea, and it has to be without flinching, without stepping back.
For me, the adventure of believing is all about the mystery, the powerful allure of the things I don’t know. There’s a sense of hesitance in having the kind of faith God requires, because nothing gets laid out so unobstructed that I’m ever able to approach it without watching my step. Human nature requires that I worry, that I analyze. A good portion of my life will be spent unlearning fear as an emotion, as I delve further into my faith, becoming less and less aware of what scares me. That’s not because God reveals all the hidden meanings in life to me. It’s entirely about the fact that, at a certain point, I don’t have to know. I embrace a faith that quits asking so many questions, that allows me the freedom to trust in God, to rest in what He says.
I think people search their whole lives for the comfort that exists in faith, for the liberating knowledge of fear defeated. They search high and low for that feeling of stillness. And as much as I respect those who find it impossible, who turn to science, I can’t settle for less. I’ve been through plenty, lost a lot of people I loved and cared about. I’ve watched with the rest of the world as horrible, unthinkable tragedy strikes without warning. I don’t blame people for being angry with the God I believe in. Hell, I get angry too. But somehow, through it all, belief has remained a constant in my life, a source of strength and renewal. It sustains me. For better or worse, I will live out my days knowing that there is something better when this is all over.
I don’t believe. I know.
(As per usual, I’m not interested in selling religion to you. This is about my faith. You are someone else, someone with a mind, heart, and soul all their own. So do me a favor, especially if you are one those overly zealous secular humanists: Don’t turn the comment thread into a debate forum. I don’t care if your Richard Dawkins book says I’m wrong. Be right somewhere else, preferably somewhere with expensive coffee and pretentious baristas. My advice, from a general standpoint, is to learn as much as you can about something before you go believing it. It’s as simple as that. I happen to be a Christian. You can be whatever you want)