Faith journeys

This week Richard and I made a harrowing journey to the school to pick up our kids during the worst blizzard in over five decades.

On the way home, facing in the 90 km/h winds I was completely blinded. The wind gusts kept stripping off my hood taking my breathe with it and bringing that freezing cold air down my neck and back and into my ear.

I grabbed my hood and scrunched it around my face to block the gale. In doing so I rendered myself blind. I gave myself a small lookout hole and put my head down.

In order to keep myself from wandering into traffic or a light pole, I grabbed onto a strap on Richard's back pack. I clung to the strap to guide my way. I trusted him to lead me.

I must have been a comical sight. Stumbling blindly through snowdrifts, slipping on icy patches. But I never let go. I just kept going.

The second my breathe hit the air, it condensed to form an icy moustache above my lip. My leg muscles ached as we plowed through stiff drifts of snow, my hand gripping my hood began to throb and I could feel ice crystals forming my eyelashes and face.

Richard often stopped to ask if I was ok. I would always reply, "Keep going."

Whether I was ok, wasn't the point. Keep moving. Don't stop. We're not at our destination yet. Just go.

Then I ran across this enlightening interview with Peter Furler (lead singer with the Newsboys) and Christianity Today in October of '06. He talks about (among other things) how he left the church for almost 15 years and has only come back to it about five years ago.

Go on. Do the math.

I'll wait.

You got it?

That means that the stalwarts of Christian rock music who's been inviting us to live and share the gospel of Jesus Christ for over twenty years were not attending church for the majority of their careers and only came back in about 2001.

Like wow!

It's a stunning revelation. I'll let you read all of the whys and wherefors in the article.

I think in a way it highlighted for me, how much I appreciate open honesty from Christians. I don't need a bunch of people around me who have it all together.

No where in the bible does it say, "Blessed are those who have it all together and never struggle to make Jesus the Lord of their life."

I appreciate so much people who are broken. I don't wish difficult times in the lives of my loved ones, but if they haven't had those painful tribulations I don't know what they could say to me or for that matter anyone about their faith in Jesus Christ. It isn't a faith then. It's just a cerebral set of ideas. An intellectual matter. Nothing personal and certainly nothing life changing.

But in the midst of pain, disappointment and tragedy, then faith becomes faith. It becomes something precious. Something I want in my life.

I think of friends who nearly lost their dad to an often fatal illness and their steadfast prayers, but also their painful acceptance that whatever happened God had it all in hand.

I think of another couple who lost their unborn baby on the day she was to be induced. I'm in awe of the peace they exude even through the tears.

I think of another friend who took the brave step of leaving home for a far off land - where she knew neither the language or customs - knowing it would be difficult, knowing it would be a growing experience that would be (at times) uncomfortable.

Faith only becomes faith when you have nothing left to hang on to. It only becomes something of value when everything else you thought had value suddenly becomes meaningless.

Only then does it become real. Only then does it become truly alive - meaning it grows and changes.

To hear someone I respect for their energetic and profound Christian music speak so openly about their own faith journey - skipping past all the cliches... instead offering a true and real account of what they've gone through and wrestled with - it inspires me to be more vigilant about not wearing that Christian mask I so often slip on.

You know the one. The one that says to the world: I'm fine. Everything's fine. I have no problems and if I did have problems me and Jesus worked it out just fine without you. I don't need prayer and I sure don't need grace. I'm just fine and I fit perfectly in the cookie-cutter image we all have of what a Christian should be and do.

I guess in a nutshell: I want to see people in my life who's faith is not perfect. Who offer me more than mere platitudes when my life falls apart. Who know that this journey in Christ is often a messy sticky gooey chaotic trek. Furthermore I want to be someone like that.

Like me hanging on to my husband's back pack strap in this week's blizzard, we all stumble along through our journey - making mistakes and riding through bumps, often looking less than graceful.

Sometimes we don't walk in a straight line and we often can't see where we're going. And our progress is at times difficult and uncomfortable.

The goal (just like walking in a blizzard) is to keep moving. Don't stop. We haven't reached our destination yet. Just go!


Listening to: Newsboys: Go (limited edition)
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