In the interest of full disclosure, this is probably not the best time for me to write a religiously- themed blog post. The past week has been the most emotionally challenging of my ministerial vocation. It turns out this whole "death" part of existence is excessively hard to make sense of, especially when the people who have died are young. Everyone is left with questions upon questions - the kinds of questions without answers. I'm so thankful to be a pastor. I'm so thankful to God for the privilege of sharing sacred moments of authentic emotional with people.
But deep inside, sometimes I just want to run away to the past and be 16 again.
And then there was that terribly horrendous earthquake in Haiti that killed thousands upon thousands; I can't even begin to fathom the reality that has come upon the people of that country. The images of injured children and people moaning with grief in the streets, it's heavy, heavy stuff. The relief effort is really in high gear, and I pray hope and encouragement is brought to a people in need. In the meantime, why am I even blabbering about all my sad feelings in light of what's happening there? But, I might as well continue.
Overwhelmed by a plethora of feelings, I thought it might be good for me to have a big cry and get it all out. So I watched the movie "500 Days of Summer." The length of the film is about 95 minutes. I wept for 94 of them. And then for about 20 continuous minutes after the movie ended.
And that brings me to now.
Faith is really hard to define. Is it a state of being? A feeling? A hope? Sometimes I'm overflowing with it. Today would not be one of those days. But, even on days like today, during weeks like this week - there's something there. It's a little voice that says: "I'm with you and I'm not going anywhere." It's a presence that seems to fill up the space between me and all the things I will never understand, saying, "I'm here, in the midst of this chaos." It feels like faith. Or something like it.
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