Is Faith hidden in mustard seeds,
Or maybe in the crooks of bended knees?
Is there a code to crack
So I can get back on track,
Hide behind the comfortable facade, be a fraud but still belong
Because the actions look right even if it feels wrong?
Maybe if I pray and pretend to stay sure,
Say I’ve found the cure
To trade this apathy for some happy
Smiles, then will I find some faith for me?
Because me?
She’s unmoored and wanting more
Than rules and lists and the dissatisfaction that persists
When playing a part was never really an art too earnest.
So where is this faith, this unseen seam
Threatening to burst from the hurt
Of broken people and tainted steeples
No longer housing the truth it’s espousing?
I want to believe.
I want to believe that faith can be strong in the face of so much wrong.
And this tired soul wants to perceive
The love I’m told God has for me,
Deep and wide and never wavering.
Maybe faith can be real when it reels
And the soul feels shaky and ready
To give in to lethargic liturgy,
Treading down familiar ruts of uncertainty.
That is the faith I seek.
One where bouts of doubt and disappointment
Anoint this abiding and wavering
Faith.
//Rebecca Weir
