I breathe deeply, and certainty enters into me like light, like a piece of science, and curious music seems to hum inside my fingers.
Is there a single person on whom I can press belief? No sir. All I can do is say, Here’s how it went. Here’s what I saw. I’ve been there and am going back. Make of it what you will. ~Leif Enger, Peace Like A River.
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You probably wouldn’t even have believed me had you been there. But sometimes, the combination of weather and circumstance and near perfect humanity will leave you feeling like you’ve witnessed a miracle. And I needed one in the worst way.
Not because of anything insurmountable but mostly because I’m like you—a regular old unbeliever.
I doubt, I whine. My faith fades like it’s been washed in bleach.
I’m always teetering, falling, flailing. Losing my grip.
But, then grace overwhelms.
Mercy rains down.
Beauty breaks in.
The sun pours out its extravagant light on every last thing.
We are stewards of a string of magnificent moments in a land that is fairer than day.
And we’re not even home yet.
I believe. Lord, help my unbelief.