Just Faith, Everyday

In my last post, I considered the desire we have as humans to control or master our lives, and the deep contrast in just plain trusting God's plan. I've been tested on this so much lately, in particular with regard to waiting on uncertainty. What's the point of waiting when no one can offer certainty—but then, is certainty possible, really? I have a friend right now who is battling the highs and lows of dealing with a rare disease, and she's fighting the good fight of patience and faith, waiting on doctors and nurses and her body. Each day poses a new challenge for her spirit, and she consistently maintains clarity mentally and emotionally, knowing she's only human at the same time. It's superhuman to me. Right now I am battling with the unknown about some murky results from some blood tests my doctors have been doing on me. I find myself at specialists—endocrinologist, neurologist—looking for answers that just won't come yet. It's unnerving to thin...

Sunlight comes earlier now, and nudges me up along with some melodious chirping each day. I get fresh dirt in my nails as I dig into the ground, tilling the earth around some tulips unfurling in my front yard of their own volition. Spring reminds me always of new chances, fresh growth that's inspiring: from the pear blossoms waving in the breeze, to the daffodils brazenly challenging what's left of winter to bring it--they're here to stay. Makes me smile. This kind of renewal happened within my soul as I listened to Alice Camille and attended a penance service for Lent just this past week--she reminded her listeners of the ways we need to surrender ourselves now, and always, to the next moment, how time marches on in our lives regardless of what we try to do to slow it down, control or master it. For those of us not so in love with our wrinkles, this is bad news, of course, but in truth the more important mark of time comes in the way we cherish it. Along the way the...