Faith

I am 40 as I write this.

Used to be 20.

When I was 20, my faith was like a jar of oil.  It was clear and consistent.  I could jump in it and float around on the top or dive down to the bottom and wherever I went, I would find pure, consistent oil.

Over the years, events in my life have invaded that faith and at some point I realized that my faith had become like a jar filled half with oil and half with vinegar.  My faith became dichotomous and compartmental.  I realized that I thought one thing and experienced something altogether different.  I was challenged by a long held belief that one’s jar of faith is either all oil or all vinegar and I felt torn with the need to decide what would fill my jar and thus, how I would live my life.

Now I am 40, and I think I have come to some peace with the conundrum of my own faith.  Not resolution, mind you…just some peace.

I realize that whether I like it or not, the oil and vinegar both remain, and the best thing that can happen to my faith nowadays is a good, hard shake every once in a while.

So I am glad for all of the parts of my faith that struggle and challenge and push and pull and never fully gel in any permanent way, yet somehow seem to make sense in a way that oil or vinegar alone simply never would.