Kyle and Joel’s true story (in last week’s blog) is an apt representation of my personal faith experience. Several times over the last few decades, circumstances have shaken my mental grip on faith. I have yelled, wept, grieved, questioned, and wrestled mentally and emotionally to the point where my aching brain felt cold and the flame of faith flickered dangerously in the smothering darkness.

But then, each and every time (I do mean that literally), when I am too exhausted to grip faith myself, I become conscious that Another—the Object of my faith—has always been gripping me. I am reminded by the Faith-Giver that faith was not my creation. His breath sustains the flame of faith even when my mind cannot and my emotions will not. Beliefs are celebrated in the light. They are tested in the dark.

What do you believe?

Does it have legs?

Can it walk, let alone run?

What do you believe?

Does it have wings?

Can you soar on its principles into a more noble humanity?

If so, is that soaring sustainable?

As I mentioned in sustainability part one last week, when I began writing this chapter in Finding An Unseen God years ago, my friend Joe was struggling to breathe. His heartbeat was irregular. His blood pressure was low. By the time I completed the chapter, Joe’s struggle had ended. His smiling face beamed at me from his picture on the funeral program.

Along with dozens of other stunned friends and family members, I walked with Joe’s wife, Jayne, along the path of grief. I heard from her lips and saw with my eyes Another who kept the flame of faith burning within her—even when the lights went out. Jayne’s faith was, and still is, sustainable.

After the funeral, Joe’s treasured friends and former students knew that it was time to update his status on Facebook. Richard spent days selecting the words and Christie typed them in with fear and trembling—the ground felt holy. The update simply read: “Joe just received his heavenly harp—it’s a Gibson.”

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away…. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:1-4, NIV)

(Rock on, Joe, rock on.)

(These thoughts on faith and friction originally appeared in my book, Finding An Unseen God: Reflections of a Former Atheist. Recently I wrote an article on 5 Be’s for those who love Atheists for Today’s Christian Woman. If you’d like to read that article, click here.)