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Day 6: Wednesday, March 21

  • Prompt B: Talk about an experience with faith, your own or someone else’s.

Scaling it down a bit…

In Mother's Arms by B. Baltzell

Though I don’t believe in God, or in a higher power, I find that I have my own brand of faith.  It isn’t tied to an organized religion.  I don’t have to check in on a Sunday earning points toward a heavenly reward.

My faith lies in people. 

It’s in the love of my family.  It’s in the friendships that I am lucky in.  It is in the grace I see in the everyday struggles.  It’s in rallying around one who is fighting to survive.  It’s in the door held for a stranger, the kind word to a child and the unconscious smile when the breeze lifts my hair.

My faith allows me to greet each new day and each new person that I meet as a welcome gift.  I am not fettered by rules or boundaries.

Sitting in the park, notebook & pen in hand, I struggled to find the words to define what faith is to me.

An incoming text distracts me.  I think that it is from a friend, dealing with health issues.  It’s actually from her husband.  He has taken a picture of his wife and their little boy, sound asleep, and sent it from her phone.

The accompanying text reads, “Isn’t it beautiful?  Isn’t she lovely?  Promise me you won’t tell her I sent it.  I just think she’s beautiful, asleep with our boy.”  He wanted the world to see how lovely she is, even though she doesn’t always feel that way.

This.  This is my faith.  The knowledge that there are good people in the world, taking care of each other, in person and from across the miles.  People loving each other and holding on with everything they are.

I am participating in The Scintilla Project. 

scintilla

1692, from fig. use of L. scintilla “particle of fire, spark, glittering speck, atom,” probably from PIE *ski-nto-, from base *skai- “to shine, to gleam” (cf. Goth. skeinan, O.E. scinan “to shine”).

 
For two weeks in March, the Scintilla community will be sharing stories and experiences sparked by prompts sent out each day.  Join us, won’t you?
 
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