Sometimes I field questions about my faith. There are certainly points out there which make me question what my believe heart believes to be true. There are times when the mind overwhelms the heart. I lose my sight. And by sight, I do not mean that I cannot see. I can see all too clearly, which is distracting, because I misread and miscalculate the information around me.
I have mentioned to you before that I see life as a series of mathematics. There are certainly different equations in life that add up to an unfair sum.
There are times when I think the world is against me. There are times when I feel aimless; I feel lost. There are times when the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Morning comes and I lack the motivation to get out of bed.
On mornings like these, I lie on my back and stare my vacant stare at the ceiling—wondering why and how long until I feel better or at least somewhat resolved.
There are times when failure seeps in. Loss overruns the gains and I question my value. I question the worth of my actions. I wonder if I am at all necessary or if my actions have added up to anything. My knees weaken and I react in fear. The problem with reacting fearfully is I become aggressive. I become aggressive to keep from feeling vulnerable or more accurately weak and meaningless..
There is always a glimmer. I call this glimmer a small piece of light. And so long as there is light, no matter how small that piece of light may be; I know the darkness cannot win.
Regardless to what others may say or how the world may seem, I still choose to believe and keep my faith. I choose to believe, and not because of a man standing in a traditional uniform or with a white collar stands on an altar, preaching the word, or telling me how I should think or whether I should repent for my sins.
No, I choose to believe for different reasons.
I choose to keep my faith because my faith gives me hope—and hope is what helps me overcome. Hope is what helps me to stand up after I fall down. Of all things of value, I say hope is the most expensive thing we could ever lose.
I believe that without faith, there is no hope, and without hope, there is no effort.
Without effort—life is hopeless. Without hope, life spiritless, aimless—and most painfully, without hope, our life becomes sadly pointless.
There is nothing in the world that is worse than the feeling of lying still because there is nothing left inside to make us move. The sharp edges of depression sink in to cut the meat of our flesh. Our options seem to be left with no option at all.
This is what I mean when saying I lose my sight. I become overrun by the imaginary problems and the projected outcomes that have yet to happen. I plan for the worst and sink in to the excess of sadness.
Back on The Farm, there was a small Chapel in the upstairs of a farmhouse where I lay sick with the flu. Most of what I owned was taken from me. None of these things were of much value. Most of this was clothes and all that I had to keep me covered in the image of who I used to be.I was stripped from my identity and stricken from the things that kept me comfortable.
The Chapel was empty at the time. The others on the farm were going about their day. I lay with my head on a pillow on top of a flat floor. My mind spun but my heart pleaded with it to stop. I refused to surrender or give in; however, my body was beaten from an unending battle. Emotionally, my legs were tired from running. Physically, I was too thin. I was too frail. I was too far from my usual comforts and too early in my sobriety.
Sickly and teary-eyed, I clenched my teeth and growled, “Oh please God, just help me!”
This is where the glimmer comes from. Had I not had any faith or been too damaged; I would have not had that small piece of spirit. The fact that I called for help showed that I still had desire. Desire is light. And the fact that I had desire means that I was capable.The fact that I had light, no matter how small that light may have been, the darkness was unable to prevail.
Today is Easter.
Today is about the absolution of death and the resurrection of life. Today means that whosoever chooses to believe shall not perish in darkness, but be saved by the light.
Saved by the light . . . I like that.
I choose to believe because it beats the opposite.
I choose to keep my faith because my faith gives me hope.
In hopeless times or desperate ones when all the weight is too heavy and I cannot stand another minute or handle another series of losses, struggle with the sentiment of bad news, or deal with worse news, and argue another minute, I know that I have that glimmer inside that pleads, “Oh please God, just help me!”
It is written, “Lest a man be born again; he cannot enter into the kingdom of Heaven.”
I am not born again, by any means. I am of the flesh, and far from the spirit. I have prayed, “Forgive us our trespasses,” but I have yet to forgive those who trespass against me. It is not easy to leash the mind. I do not always have the discipline to leash my tongue. I often say the wrong things. I will not always do the right thing. I will make mistakes and I will find myself in troubled waters.
I know this.
But at least I have that glimmer.
That glimmer means I have desire and my desire means that I am capable