Remembering Faith

Faith is a little girl dancing to Skip to my Lou. It is watching her savor some blueberry cheesecake ice cream with an over sized spoon. It is laying in the hot tub under the bright moon watching the clouds and mist while saying the ‘Our Father’ over and over. It is having the love of your life remind you to have faith and that everything is and will be okay. It is his hockey game, crossword puzzle and homemade pot roast. It is remembering the love of dear friends as they send you a valentines day card in the mail. It is talking to your best friend in Nevada over a morning cup of coffee.

I am a perpetual slut when it comes to spirituality. I read the Bible, I read buddhist literature, I’ll read Native American and Indigenous texts and stories, philosophy, psychology, about the cabala and kundalini yoga. I have yet to explore anything Muslim or Islamic, but what may come close is savoring the Arabic language while listening to a favorite Lebanese band. All of this has been incredibly helpful and very important in my journey discovering my own faith. I still return to Christ and Christianity, however, and am reminded of the power and strength this had in transforming my life and teaching me about faith and how to have a deep deep loyalty to God.

I am about as progressive as one can be regarding my politics, however, I don’t appreciate it when people swear they are agnostic because all religion is bad, or slander Christianity because of right wing American politics or Catholic priest scandals. I had an old roommate years ago that said if all Christians were like Johnny Cash, then he may have more interest in Christianity. As I read through the stories in my first book “Glass Slippers: A Journey of Mental Illness”, I am reminded of how important believing in Christ, the cross, the Bible and God has been in my life. I am tempted to return to praying this way, even in the midst reading Chogyam Trungpa, and “Kundalini Yoga for the West” by Swami Sivananda Radha.

So, I see God in simple things. “He/She” is in the clouds, the light of the moon, my lover’s smile, and my niece’s dance moves. I am so ever grateful. And yet, it feels good to fall back on and rely on tradition. It feels good to remind myself that the goodness in god and christ has nothing to do with politics or the red sates. It feels good to make it personal again and find and rekindle my faith in these Christian practices. I am reminded to pray, that my voice is heard and that God is timeless.