And, again, I can't say why that is. I suspect it has something to do with the feeling of absolute certainty I had about my faith when I entered college. Of course the words could spill out; I knew the right words. It was a feeling that all but faded midway through second year of school. For the past four years, I've been in a strange season ( strange for me anyway), of my faith feeling so deeply personal and private that any outward expression of it felt trite and fake.
It has been a deeply painful season.
But one that I think has been so necessary. I have been forced to reexamine what genuine expressions of faith are. I, who was never at a loss for words, was forced to be quiet. Oh, it hurt. Oh, it was so good.
Tonight, home alone, I was saw a link that friend posted to a David Crowder You-Tube video "How he loves us" . At least 25% of worship songs make me gag. (Really? History Maker? Have we realized that the song is all about me, me, me.) However, I usually enjoy David Crowder's way of creating imagery, so I watched.
Somewhere through my third listen, I felt my throat tighten. I felt my eyes well. It has been years. "When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory."
Here it is, my blog about my faith: I am wayward Israel. I am the woman caught in adultery. I building the golden calf. I have innocent blood on my hands. I am Peter, too scared to get out of the boat. I am holding back the best of my sacrifice. I am scorning the word of the prophet.
I am longing beyond words for my humanity to be swallowed whole. I am waiting for the day when I will be eclipsed by glory.
