I wish I could fix your faith with a single surgical Bible verse or the perfect mix of eloquent argumentation. I wish there was a twelve point diagram or a three point sermon or an eight minute program that could get your faith in shape, for the low-low price of Jesus’s grinning thumbs up.
When someone tells me to “Just cheer up” or “Be positive” or “Believe,” there’s nothing in me that doesn’t want to flip a switch and charge up my faith-meter. To tell me that I need to “just just just” is not as easy as a pat on the back of praying away your problems.
Faith isn’t a light switch. It’s a journey.
And that means it takes more than one epiphany. It’s more than one sit-down over coffee. It’s more than any one sermon or blog post or book or Sunday service. Certainly there are life-changing moments in each of these things: but faith is more of a woven tapestry knit by all these unique interlocking fabrics that paint a larger mosaic in the end, and no one can rush this with a magic formula. There’s no 800 number to grow a seed.
No one has the patience for this. It’s not natural to let things grow in their own pacing. We so badly want it now. We want the pain and doubts and frustrations to pass quickly: when we forget, this is all part of the journey too, and it’s all the deepest part of who we become.
Without growing pains, we only end up shallow and misinformed. Without pushing through the initial illusions of an easy faith do we begin to arrive at the rich vibrancy of a faith that bleeds and breathes.