“For we live by faith, not by sight,” (2 Corinthians 5:7).
For years I heard Christians talk about living by faith, but I did not really grasp how to walk that out in my daily life. But then, I heard Richard Rohr, a Francisian priest, talk about this issue. He suggested that many Christians do not live by faith because they have no patience for not knowing and no tolerance for ambiguity. I felt my conscience pricked.
That’s me.
Several weeks ago, my region had a historic snowfall, the largest ever recorded. As if 30 inches of snow wasn’t bad enough, high winds created five foot drifts in my driveway. I prayed and tried to trust that God would provide someone to dig me out, but I had no idea who or how. My tiny snowblower was useless against the towering drifts. I did not have the strength to shovel even my walkways. Plus, I knew my neighbor who helped in the past had only a little snowplow on his small truck. This blizzard needed something tougher. I needed someone with a scoop on a large tractor.
“Lord,” I prayed, “what do I do?”
I had the impression I was to do nothing. I was to wait.
So I kept repeating to myself, “Living by faith is being tolerant with not knowing and being patient with uncertainty.” Honestly, I was quite uncomfortable. I wanted to know how I would get out, who could clear the driveway and when it would happen.
“Jesus, I confess I am not doing a good job of living by faith.”
To make matters worse, I was not feeling well physically. I worried about my walks, so I prayed that someone would show up to remove the snow from my sidewalks, in addition to clearing my driveway.
As the snow continued swirling around my home and piling three feet of snow against my doors and windows, I looked out my front window and realized nothing was landing on my front walkway. Not a flake. This had never happened in previous wind-driven snows. What I saw was unbelievable. My front walk was completely clear. How did God do it? I do not know. But I know he did.
In spite of that divine clearance of my front walk, less than 24 hours later I was anxious and worried about my driveway and upset about my inability to live in faith.
In the midst of my worry, I heard the hum of a tractor. What a beautiful sound to someone trapped inside by five foot snow drifts. I peered out a window to see a tractor wth a scoop! I couldn’t see who it was because this person wore a ski cap with a protective face shield. But I had the feeling the person wasn’t up to mischief. Slowly, this person, who turned out to be the neighbor who usually cleared my snow with a small plow, cleared my driveway. It took him over an hour and a half, but he did it with equipment he had borrowed.
You would think that this amazing experience would change me into a faith-filled person. But there are still too many times when I have no patience with uncertainty. There is plenty of room for my faith to grow. Like the apostles in Luke 17:5-10, I want more faith. But Jesus reminded them their small fickle faith was big enough. The size of our faith isn’t the problem. The problem is our lack of tolerance for uncertainty.
Now when I face challenging situations, I remember this: I have enough faith. I believe God is able. I just need to be patient with the uncertainty of not knowing when, where, and how he will provide.
