It is the prolific writer and theologian, Frederick Buechner, who said:
“Faith is different from theology because theology is reasoned, systematic, and orderly, whereas faith is disorderly, intermittent, and full of surprises…. Faith is homesickness. Faith is a lump in the throat. Faith is less a position on than a movement toward, less a sure thing than a hunch. Faith is waiting.”
A poem that came to me this morning.
a mother wakes in the darkness.
shivers, the room is cold. there is a sacrifice, rising
before them all. it is also her survival.
the sky inky blue black, she stumbles down the stairs.
these moment, early
with her worries, cloying. she sits
physically surrendering to the Holy One’s presence.
Let me be your life.
Let me fill the crevices of your heart where you still fret and worry. Trust in me and surrender your doubts about ephemeral things like destiny, talents and purpose.
Your fears about the children, and their walk in faith.
Your anxious heart can be full today if you open your sweaty grasping hands.
Surrender Child. Trust me.
Why is it so daily, this laying down of self? Letting go of control? This giving in, this
“That we may come to be one spirit with God and be found under grace, may God help us all! Amen.” — Meister Eckhart, a modern translation.