Red Rot ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sabbath Day Feeling humble. Humbled. I get lackadaisical about my faith, questioning why I even bother. Or why my parents bothered. Or what about this sustains me. But in quiet moments I know. I was sitting in the foyer today waiting outside the chapel while the sacrament was being passed. Streams of little families were filing in late, children running around the hall, playing with toy cars, hugging their parents. I didn't know everyone, but I did know them. And I know why I come. There is something about this sweet dedication to families, this sense of peace and community, the push for introspection, for communion with God, for eternal progression, something about the urge to become a better people. Kinder than we otherwise would be. There is something about the narrative of salvation. My battered but somehow unyielding belief in a God who knows me and impossibly loves me, and loves us all, that keeps me coming. The feeling that He is there. My marvel at a world His hands have made. I don't think you can explain faith. Or hope. There's too much cognitive dissonance. And doubt and fear and questioning and pain. Too much beauty, too much hard-won history, too many insights, small feelings, tears. Too many bargains. It's Graham Greene's The End of the Affair, Sarah begging for the life of Bendrix. It's a man dying and others being healed. It's failing and absolute desperation made whole with the spirit of peace. It's comfort. Structure. A way. I don't know why I know. I just know. 11:12 p.m. - 2012-04-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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