I’ve commented more than once in the past few months that I feel much like I did when I graduated from seminary and first began in pastoral ministry – I don’t really know what I’m doing, or even sometimes what I’m supposed to be doing, but everyone is looking to me so I keep up the appearance that I do. In reality, despite the confusing times in which we live and the every-changing landscape I do, in my heart, know what I’m doing; I’m putting my full trust in God, and spending more time that ever in prayer. In other words, I’m practicing my faith.
Even though in simpler times we like to think we know things – who we are and what we’re doing, what to expect and how things will go – we don’t really. We may find our way more easily, rising to more familiar challenges and engaging more confidently in daily living along terrain to which we’re more accustomed, but when it comes down to it noting is certain except, perhaps uncertainty. That’s where real faith comes into play, where for lack of a better term our faith is tested, when we are challenged to put our trust in God and embrace ambiguity.
There’s a song by the band Styx with a line that says, “So if you think your life is complete confusion because your neighbor’s got it made, just remember that it's a grand illusion and deep inside we're all the same.” As we move through the coming days – days of uncertainty, days of abnormality, days of doubt – keep in minds that there isn’t really every any certainty, that normality is a matter of perception, and that our moments of doubt are moments of opportunity for us to practice our faith. Nothing is certain; it never was. Nothing, but God.
Peace for the journey,