I Believe in Faith

Faith is that little voice. The ‘yes, we can’ mantra of the Obama presidential campaign that used to ring in my head which is now fading and becoming harder to hear. Like a parade which is passing me by.

Faith is the belief that you’re going to be ok no matter what happens, no matter where you end up, no matter what not-so-great ideas that you act on—faith is the belief that it’s going to be alright. I had that kind of faith when I was younger. I look back on decisions I made and paths that were probably best not taken and I shudder with incredulity. Hindsight may be 20/20 but I’d give anything for an ounce of the faith that I had back then.

Faith is falling asleep on the #3 train at 4 in the morning travelling home to Brooklyn from a night of clubbing. I fully expected that we’d make it home safely, there simply was no doubt. Faith is quitting my job about a month before Christmas yet knowing that I would have a new job in time to buy presents. No brainer. Faith is trying to buy a house with one month on a new job. It’s hearing the words, “there’s a problem with the baby’s heartbeat” and trusting that I would survive. What happened to that faith? What happened? Did I lose my nerve or my strength, or did I lose my faith?

My life has taken many detours, sharp hairpin turns, a few miles in reverse and into full speed ahead: find true love, get married, start a family, make a home, build a career. Now, I find myself coasting in neutral and even at this slow speed my foot still hovers over the brake ready to screech to a stop at each intersection. I am cautious with my life’s choices and decisions now. Perhaps rightfully so. I don’t want to do anything that would upset the beautiful life I find myself living. My marriage, my children, my family, my home, my career – this is my life and I must protect it at all costs. I am cautious about what I expose my children to for fear that something will cause them harm. I am cautious of the people I let into my life, afraid of finding out that they do not have my best interests at heart. I am cautious about career decisions as they may ultimately undermine my ability to provide for my family. These are not the thoughts of the faithful. No. These are the thoughts of the fearful. Here’s the thing about living in fear, it leaves no room for faith.

I heard myself talking to a friend a few weeks ago as she explained why she would not let this great guy into her life. I heard my own fear in her words and understood instantly where she was coming from. I understood how she’d shut down the most vulnerable parts of herself to protect her heart from hurt, just as I had shut out certain people and circumstances to protect my life. I heard myself explaining to her how she needed to let go and let her faith guide her. The words just kind of jumbled out pleading with her to live her whole life, not just the parts that looked safe. I listened to myself as I told her let down her guard and let God guard her.

I distinctly recall being in that crowded restaurant, and not caring who heard my near evangelical soliloquy. I remember the light that seemed to fill my heart as I encouraged her to take a leap of faith and trust that God would be with her always – no matter what. I told her that living in fear left no room for God to take care of her and this I believe is true. Living in fear leaves no room for God. But the belief that God will take care of you, provide for you, and protect you, that is faith.

My own cup is half empty of that kind of faith, but every now and then the ‘yes, we can’ chanting becomes a little louder. Some days I can barely hear it, but it’s always there in my heart. These days it grows louder, like the distant sound of a parade marching in my direction.