I read a passage recently in a blog that I found fascinating and also troubling. A woman wrote: “It’s no secret that I ache to believe in God. The truth is I ache to believe in something. What’s also true is that slowly, with almost infinitessimal steps, I’m finding myself doing so, in my own way.” I find her desire/ache wonderful on one level but sort of sad on the other. Religious belief hasn’t ever felt that tricky to me. For the most part, I’m nonplussed by the parts that are illogical. It’s okay, because the parts that speak to my heart are so clear.
I’m grateful the gospel has been a such a guiding force for my life. Call it a north star, a template, a blueprint, a whatever; it gives me direction, meaning and purpose.
Religious belief does require faith. Sometimes a leap of faith. Perhaps even a big leap. But regardless of parts where we need to suspend disbelief, it still works for me. On so many levels!
I’ve been blessed by living the commandments. I know that without a shadow of a doubt. And the things I don’t know I can take in faith and slowly that faith seed planted has usually brought forth fruit.
“I envy my dad and his faith. I envy all people who have someone to beseech, who know where they’re going, who sleep under the fluffy white comforter of belief.” -Kelly Corrigan, The Middle Place
