It's A Faith Thing

As the song goes, "ya gotta have faith..."

Faith in God is one of those things that is often confused with getting or not getting one's way. For me, faith has been easy in respect to believing in God, what he is and the Bible. Even as a child, I was taught and knew in my own right that there was in fact, a God and that he was in control. As I've aged, I've discovered that I'm not a big fan of the mystery of God and the how part of what he does. I'm often faced with having to try to understand the things in life that vary few ever do. Many days I pray that God would take a human form again and make time to help me understand what is going on in my life and what he is, and what I should be doing. Of course, this doesn't happen. Very frustrating as I am a weaker member of the God family and not always in tune with his desires and plans.

I must admit my relationship with God has suffered this last year as I have lived out my own nightmare and found that my faith isn't always what I would hope it to be. In a nutshell, my faith was shaken deeply this last year and though I still believe in God and that he has a plan for me, I am jaded from the pains of the year and not entirely sure that I can get back to trusting in God the way I had started to before the collapse of my life as I knew it.

I do know that even in my distress, God has given me what I must have to survive. I don't always recognize it, but even in these lean, tough months, I still have food, still have basic life essentials more than many and even though, much to my agony at seeing the gas light on in my truck nearly every day, I still have fuel to get where I have to be. So while I am not living posh or comfy, I am living and making it daily. This is a gift from God and I know it.

When I took on that old manor house and that neighborhood, I felt strongly that I was where I was suppose to be, doing what I was suppose to be doing. For a time, things went well and progress was made. Then, it all just stopped. My personal life took over and my ability to do that which I thought I was to do, just vanished.

Now, when I have occasion to be in that area, I am saddened by the apparent influx of even more trouble than I Had driven off while I lived there. The drug dealers are back in force, the problem houses are the same or worse, and the gang problems seem to be escalating.

Just a few minutes ago, I glanced through the real estate listings for the Old West End and discovered that many of the homes and apts. that were for sale a year ago are still and that the overall pricing structure is far below what it was even 12 months ago. Perhaps it's a little market correction, but by viewing the area, one can tell that it's not doing as well as it was a year or two ago.

So I look at the way life is, how hard so many in our area are struggling and realize it could be worse for me personally. I'm grateful that though times are not easy, that I still have time. When faith is rocked, battered and bruised, it's still there. Though faith is hard sometimes to maintain, as long as we do, there's still hope.