Faith

There’s a church on my regular flight path that posts inspirational quotes on their billboard.

For the last week or so, the message they’ve shared is this:

“Faith is not a leap into darkness, but a step into the light.”

Whether you’re religious or not, it’s something to chew on.

And they’ve got it wrong.

Faith is navigating the darkness.

Faith is trust. It’s a belief in something, despite lack of evidence or proof.

Faith is confidence over cowardice.

We reserve this kind of faith for the divine, for religion, and yet withhold it from the most important factor in our lives: ourselves.

This looks like:

Self doubt.
Self sabotage.
Playing it “safe.”
Putting others opinions and priorities over your own.

These are just some of the ways we abandon the self, abdicate from faith.

Faith can feel like stepping into the light, but often that comes after a period of stumbling through the dark, trying to find your own way.

Life is unpredictable. It’s messy, and the only constant is change. We see this reflected in our outer world through the changing of the seasons, our faces as they morph to reflect our experiences through lines and creases.

But our journey through life isn’t as predictable as these seasons.

It can mean making great leaps, but more often it means we’re taking it one step at a time, feeling our way through the night as we climb.

Faith is surrender to the flow. And not surrender as in waving the white flag, in giving up, but instead accepting the path, even if we can’t see where it leads.

We can surrender to the terrain while still choosing our direction.

We allow for the detours along the path because that’s where we can learn the most about ourselves. It’s not about seeing the whole picture, but about seeing what’s immediately next, and trusting in the process.

Faith means that, even though we’re not entirely sure where we’re going, we trust we’re on our path—not because it’s easy or clear, but because we’re actively choosing each step, even when we’re uncertain

Faith is trusting that innate wisdom inside of us, and allowing ourselves to be quiet enough to listen and to let it guide us.

This is all the work of the dark. The stumbling, uncertain parts of life that peel back the layers of us, revealing in our very core, who we are.

Every mountain has a summit, and most trials we go through offer a lesson, an illumination—if we’re willing to look for it

It’s part of the sacred balance: the dark and the light, the yin and the yang.

The light works with the darkness. It can be a beacon, summoning us. Or it can simply be bright enough to illuminate our feet, to help avoid pitfalls and other stumbling blocks.

The light shows us whether we’re already on the path, or if we need to course correct.

If I were to re-do the billboard, I might ask: What if faith isn’t about light or darkness, but about walking through both?

Or maybe that’s too wordy for a roadside sign.

All that’s required is that we summon our faith, surrender to the flow, and keep putting one foot in front of the other.