Sometimes faith comes not in moving mountains or raising the dead to life. Sometimes it comes in the morning rain, when the skies are gray and you know you’ll need a really big umbrella to go where you need to go, because where you need to go is that really important to you. It comes to kick us on the shin, tell us to get a move on, brave the cold shower and cold breakfast, and bare our fangs at the monstrous traffic and the monstrous tasks of the day— saying, “Scare me, you won’t overcome me.”
Sometimes faith comes not in healing our sicknesses, or causing our troubles to go away. Sometimes it comes at lunch, when you’re all alone while everyone is happily enjoying their meals together, and you stay there— not because you don’t like them or want to be with them, but you just need that time to be alone: with your thoughts, with your self, with God. It comes and sits with you, cheering us on, because sometimes we need more than just a cup of coffee to reignite the warmth in our passions.
Sometimes, faith comes not in weathering the crises, disasters, calamities— or even confronting the hordes of evil and horrors of life. Sometimes it comes in the evening, in the dead silence save for your own breath, in that still quietness that permeates through the unnnoticed chaos of your mind throughout the day, the unheard screams and agonies of your heart through the work and lessons. It comes and envelops you with its soft embrace, a gentle caress to soothe your quivering soul.
And sometimes, faith comes not to wipe the tears, to encourage, or even comfort us in our distress. Sometimes, maybe most of the time, it doesn’t make us see beyond today. For though tomorrow does matter as much as yesterday, it doesn’t change the fact that pain exists. That struggles exist. That conflicts exist. And these exist right now, today, right here. And no promise of the future can change that. No hope from yesterday had taken those away. Faith comes, because it wants to give you the strength to fully look at your fears, and confront them. Faith comes, because the past and what’s to come can only be clear when we have learned to expose this present pervading darkness— use it as faith’s own fuel to burn ever brighter.
Sometimes, faith comes not by casting all our cares on Him. Sometimes, it comes not in throwing all our hopes at Him. No. It comes because we chose to believe His love in both the grand romance as well as the mundane routines. It comes because we accepted His will in both our great aspirations as well as in our shallowest imaginations. It comes because we recognized His glory in His visible workings and His unseen kindness everyday. It comes because we acknowledge His power in the things we try to hold on to as much as on the things we have learnt to let go. And it comes, it surely comes, as we continue to know Him beyond the stories and songs and all those wonderful ideas we have formed about Him.
Faith comes. And sometimes, it comes because you simply asked, called for it.