My husband read some of my posts last night and after the usual sort of comments he said, “Oh by the way, you didn’t write about faith when the title said about faith”.
Errr, umm, yes, well.
Faith is probably the hardest to write about, really. Faith is very hard to define outside of a dictionary and I guess that’s why I “forgot”.
Faith is about absolute trust and certainty and knowing that something is real. I have faith in gravity, for example. Under normal conditions, if I jump up, I come down again with an earthshattering thump; I jump without even having to think if I will come down. Gravity is a theory proved by experience and evidence. It works, simple as that. Even in low gravity conditions like the surface of the Moon, it works according to the conditions present.
But Gravity is simple by comparison with God. God is tricksy in so many ways. We don’t know the mind of God terribly well; that I guess is what most theology is about, trying to suss out God and understand how He works. Some swear by the Bible, but I find that only confirms to me the tricksy nature of God, because of the contradictions. Personal experience and discovery are for me the way to understand God and even then just when you think you know where you are, wham, things change.
I don’t think it’s faith that allows the snake handlers to play with venomous snakes without (allegedly) being bitten. I’m not sure what it is. To me, that’s testing God. And sooner or later, He’ll have a lesson for you. There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and you cross it at your peril.
I’ve never had an unshakeable unmoveable faith; I spend much of my time doubting. Questioning everything. Trying to test and prove things for myself. That’s just me. I envy people with true faith, rather than the tattered rags that are mine. But every time I discover something new, and wonderful for myself, I realise that my rags are not rags at all.