Over the last couple months I have come to understand that my faith has changed in an almost subconscious way. I remember that when I was younger I had a faith that didn’t question, a faith that didn’t doubt, and a faith that moved forward with eyes closed. I would always quote Matthew 6 to my mom, why worry about the birds of the air or the lilies of the field when our heavenly Father feeds them. If I can’t do the simple thing of adding an hour to my life then why worry about the rest. But I’ve slowly come to the realization that I have changed and not necessarily for the better. Although I know God has wonderfully wired me in such a way that often asks the question “why,” I realize that I now approach God with a subconscious sense of cynicism that sometimes feels blasphemous. I question everything with a sense of defiance as if I can logically reason why things happen, all the while excluding God. And as I’ve dealt with this I’ve been reminded of how closely this struggle is related to my mom’s passing.
You see, my mom was the spiritual compass of our home, the parent who kept us in church, the one who always knew the answer to difficult questions and the biggest factor in me becoming who I am today. And when she was in the final stages of her lung cancer, I along with my mom, pastors, family and friends placed our faith in the Lord believing that He would do something miraculous in my mom’s body. But as the painful days of her deterioration passed by I felt helpless, handicapped and then prayed for either healing or our misery to end. I wish I could say she is still alive recovering from what once was a nightmare. I wish I could say she’ll be there on my wedding day and will have an important role in my children’s lives. But that is not the case because within a week she passed away. Now part of what remains is this unsettling doubt and nagging cynicism. Doubt that He is as invested in me as I think I am in Him. Doubt that he listens or that when he listens he’ll answer. Doubt that if I pray publicly I will simply look foolish because he’ll fail me again.
So here is my prayer for the race:
“Father, forgive me and help me with my unbelief. Rid me of this feeble faith that questions everything concerning you as if I were God. I want a faith that is developed and sharpened by seeking your face and knowing your truth. I don’t want a blind faith but a faith that is cemented because time and time again you have met and will continue to meet my known and unknown needs. Grow me. May I grow up to have a faith like that of a child. A child who wholeheartedly believes in what you have already done and continue prove. Amen.”
