the time has come

The usual brisk morning walk to the T-Center delivered me an unexpected gift - the gift of searching my heart, which, quite uncharacteristically, betrayed some of my insecurities and fears about life and faith.

I was frustrated with having to wake up at 6:00 am when I could easily have kept myself sandwiched between my flower-patterned quilt and Nautica down comforter, blissfully curled in a fetal position. I was angry that I couldn't spend time alone in my dreams. I kept asking myself, for the fifteenth time, "Why the heck am I getting up so early?"

After I grudgingly gathered myself up, I splashed some water on my face and trudged to the kitchen for my morning ritual of mountain blueberry Yoplait. I sat down at the dining room table with a metal spoon in my hand, scooping globs of yogurt in my mouth, I said short prayers like, "Father, please, make me care." Because I really didn't.

I walked out the front door, shut it, and locked it, then started walking down the dimly-lit apartment corridor. When I stepped outdoors, a chill went down my spine as a breeze snuck through the hole in the right sleeve of my Quiksilver hoodie. I reached in my pocket for my iPod, unraveled it from the tangled mess of cords, and placed the white earbuds in my ears. I spun through the menus until I got to Songs. I started out by playing Absolutely (Story of a Girl) by Nine Days, and set the iPod to Shuffle Albums.

I sleepily began my long walk, singing along an octave lower with my cracking voice. As I was passing by the B-School, the next song began to play, and it was the introduction to a Hillsong United album I hadn't heard in a while. I was about to skip the entire album, when I heard the first line to the song The Time Has Come: "Found love beyond all reason."

I spent most, if not all of my time for the past month and a half trying to reason out my motivation for doing what I do, and the basis for my faith. I am never closer to reaching that goal than I am today. There is no knowing why faith happens, there is no knowing why life happens the way it does. It is beyond all reason. God simply doesn't make sense. And maybe some may take this as a reason not to believe, but I find it is a better justification than any to have faith. If God made sense, if we could put Him into a shape and a mold, He would be no greater than a golden calf, or money, or fame, or any other tangible idol. He is who He is exactly because He is a spirit, not a visible creation.

When we talk about being made in the image of God, all we think about is our physical image. But I think we are made in His spiritual image - because as C.S. Lewis said, "You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body." We are not bodies that have souls, but rather, souls that have bodies. We reflect the image of God through our souls, our true self, rather than our bodies. God does not look like Zeus.

As I'm questioning my faith and learning of truth piece by piece, I've found that the greatest insecurity I have about faith is that it doesn't make sense. The pragmatist inside me screams for justice, for logic to take over. Christ doesn't make sense; God doesn't make sense. I want to be okay with that.