Thursday, September 10, 2015
I was thinking about my china doll faith the other day on a long drive home, and I wondered just why it was so difficult for me to pull my faith down from its pedestal, to make it livable. I put it there with best intentions and respect. But is it so fragile that I must keep it behind glass? Is my faith weak after all? Am I scared of it being tested and broken? What if it is tested? And what if it fails?
An anger rose up in me. Why would God lead me to conclusions that weren’t conclusive? Why pour all this effort and faith into something that might not last? Why make me go on the journey to begin with? I was perfected content in my home church and home denomination. I never sought out Catholicism. I never questioned or searched. I just did as he led. Isn’t that an infringement on my free will? I didn’t want this then, and I don’t want it now.
I was Lewis’ reluctant convert, angry at God for making himself so well known to me.
Knowledge is power. After obtaining faith, I have to do something about it. How wholly unfair. In a moment of anger I find it all unfair against me, while in truth, it is unfair but in my favor. So I get angry (surprisingly outside of Lent). God lets me throw my tantrum. Then I collect myself and we get on. There is work to do. I'm just not sure how I work yet.