April 26, 2013


Christian and I drove to the Flower Fields, about an hour away, a few weekends ago.

“Reality, be it of this world or another, is not something one finds and then retains for good. It must be newly discovered daily, and newly lost.” – Christian Wiman, “Gazing Into The Abyss”

Going into this semester, I was half-expecting to have some sort of crisis of faith. For the past few months in Torrey, we have read some of the toughest critics of Christianity, and they were much smarter than I am or will be. They gave logical, scientific explanations for everything from guilt to selflessness to pride. But for some reason, their explanations were not nearly as threatening as I expected.

There are a lot of reasons why this may be, one of the biggest being that I have read enough Christian authors by now to know that there are major-smarties on both sides, so I better think of a new criteria for judging who is right. But even that phrase “judging who is right” implies a sort of cold, reasonable approach that not only seems impossible (because the assumption that I have to brains to “judge” which of these geniuses is the most genius is pretty ridiculous), but also untrue to how I (and, I’m guessing, most people) make decisions.

I can’t really say why I have faith, because I’m not sure myself. I don’t know how much is a choice, and how much is a gift. Lately (that is, for the past year or so), it’s felt a lot more like the latter.

I hope each morning it is there, and it has been. Not in the same degree every day, but unmistakably there. I want it to be like this forever (it wasn’t always), but I suspect it’s just a season.

My prayer is that my faith grows truer, which doesn’t feel the same to me as stronger. Usually, it feels fragile. Maybe strength comes slowly over time, or maybe I will always be praying for whole-hearted belief.

The good news is, even small faith yields fruit.