Sometimes I feel like I'm a bad example of what a person of faith should be.
I read other people's inspirational works...heck, sometimes I even reread things I have written in the past...which are filled with positivity, faith, hope and a "Isn't God GREAT!" attitude, and think, "Is that what it means to be a person of faith? To pretend that things are just spiffy whiffy wonderful when it's patently obvious that they aren't and things are pretty sucky?" And because I'm not feeling like I can be all happy and perky and cheerful about my life, I'm a bad example of what a person of faith should be.
Now I do believe that God is Great. I do believe. I do have faith...waxing and waning, stronger at times and weaker at others, but I do have faith. However in this season of my life, I am finding it extraordinarily difficult to be gushing about miracles in my life and how I sense God's presence with me all the time.
Because I don't.
That's why I say I'm a bad example of what a person of faith should be. Take today for instance. I suppose I could write about how I saw a lovely flower in the median strip as I was waiting for a red light and how overcome I was with the absolute miracle of life springing up in the midst of concrete and lifelessness. I could wax poetic about the sweetness of the blossom amid the pain of life and go on about how it was such a profound example of looking for miracles that I was moved to spontaneously sing songs of praise.
I could, but I won't because that's not what happened.
I saw the flower--a dandelion--and thought, "Why is it that 'weeds' are more tenacious than flowers?" and then the light changed and I was on my way.
What it comes right down to is that I want a realio, trulio miracle in my life right now. Not one of the "if you look hard enough you'll see a miracle" kind of miracles, but one that makes my heart stop with the sheer shock of it all. Not a small, everyday, seek and ye shall find miracle, but the kind of miracle that makes me say, "Wow! Nothing is impossible with God!!"
I know I should be content with the miracle of dandelions in concrete, but the truth is I want more.
I can't help it. I just do.
I want a miracle.