“Faith”, wrote C.S. Lewis, “…is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods.”

Faith is a gift, a belief, a conviction, of things hoped for.  You can’t see it, touch it or smell it.  You can’t buy it or sell it.  You can’t work for it or earn it. No amount of good deeds brings it.  Yet you still believe it.

Faith is the daffodil- while it is still winter, still snowing and sleeting, this first flower of spring pushes its frail, tiny tendrils to the surface, reaching for the promised warmth of the sun.  Icy rain may still fall, yet the daffodil has Faith that spring will come and rushes to meet her.  The daffodil knows that by herself she is nothing-only a brown seed -she believes though, by reaching out through Faith from her earthly grave, she can become the flower she was meant to be.

Faith is believing that something greater than yourself exists.  The daffodil seed has never seen the sun, but this promise is embedded in her very being.  For us, it is in our soul, it is believing that God exists.  It is believing that, despite your shortcomings, your sins and failures, mistakes and hurts and pains, you can be reinvented into who and what you were created to be.  It is believing that Gods’ word became flesh and walked with us, that He took every single one of your sins, past, present and future, forgave you and died for you so you don’t have to.  And all you ever have to do is accept that Grace.

I’m no evangelist or theology expert- I’m nobody special or favored.  But I remember very well being alive without Faith-trying to make sense of my life, trying to fill the empty with anything-shopping, buying, doing, doing, doing.  Drinking some, then more, and then always because for awhile I felt not so empty; I actually was, but didn’t realize it yet.  Religion led me to resentments-I didn’t know how to separate the message of God from the dogmas of the people.  I didn’t know what ‘Church’ was, and didn’t know to look. Like the daffodil seed in the ground, I had to first believe that there was more, more for me than me in the bottom of the bottle.

I remember the despair, the separation of self, the utter hopelessness.  And I remember finally asking for, begging for, this Faith-some hope, help in my total darkness.  I prayed, prayed and prayed.  And It came.  There wasn’t lightening bolts, no thunder-just quietly, when I was finally falling asleep, an invisible wight was lifted.  I didn’t know it was there, that oppression, until it wasn’t.   I began to believe.  I do believe.  I began to live.  I do live.  By Faith- for there is nothing more….

As always, my hopes are for your hopes and dreams…..T