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In which I contemplate faith and fearfulness

February 6, 2010

Today is one of those days that the world strikes me in an unexpectedly beautiful way. It is always odd when this happens, and particularly so today because it is on the heels of the death of a dear family friend and another friend winding up in hospital. We are also in the midst of heavy rains, causing moderate flooding of the roads and making my beautiful spring tree look a little beleaguered out the front window. Maybe the sudden changes make me more grateful for stability when it exists.

For whatever reason, this feeling of unexpected awesomeness in the world in general — though I very much hope that my friend’s life gets some of that awesomeness soon! — is making me think about my faith, or my lack thereof. Another dear friend is prone to telling me: “I have faith in you! Of more than the religious kind.” Her constant reminders that another person has faith in me have been a sweet surprise over the past year.

I have not been someone particularly prone to having faith, religious or otherwise. Trusting in anything other than myself, whether another person, a god, or gravity, is very difficult for me. I am the person who watches the pot of water to make sure it boils, because I have no certainty that what happened last time will happen this time. This is the degree to which I lack faith, that even physics is questionable to me.

And yet, having just completed a very painful two months of struggling with uncertainty, and being entirely certain that there are a few more months of struggle ahead of me… I find myself very at peace with the idea that all can work out in the end. Is this what that otherwise sort of faith is? Because if so, the certainty of knowing that I will not fall harder than I can recover from is a rather nice feeling. It makes it a little easier to comfort the people who have it a little less easy at this particular moment, knowing that there will be some comfort for me and faith in me when I need it.

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