Crisis of faith?

 

Crisis of faith. How do you deal with it? 

Professor Chong Siow Ann wrote about it over the weekend. “Dealing with a loss of faith and the will to live” starts off with a young man from a Christian family. His parents are missionaries and he grew up as a passionate believer. 

Over time, he went through what is intense self-interrogation and vexing doubts. He started asking the usual questions about God and the seeming triumph of evil, and suffered from a crisis of faith - that is, “how can a loving, powerful and all-knowing God allow such gratuitous sufferings to take place under His watch?” 

That endless wrestle with theodicy’s Pandora box pushed the young man to the edge of faith, into the abyss of despair, even dark thoughts of suicide. 

Professor Chong wrote: “Losing one’s religious faith may be liberating for some, but for others it is like being an exile and a castaway at the same time: drifting unmoored from their former spiritual communities and buffeted by waves of anxiety, despair and hopelessness.” The guilt may be oppressive and the self-censure crushing. 

The young man sought counselling and treatment from Professor Chong and his team. And a few weeks after a consult, he ended his life. That is indeed a tragic end for a young man, beloved son born into a missionary’s home. 

Lesson? Just one, and let me cite scriptures since this is about religion. This is a popular verse in Revelation 3:20 - Jesus says he stand at the door and knocks and anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them and they will me. 

In the past, I often used that verse to evangelise, telling non-believers on the street that Jesus is standing by the door of their hearts, knocking for a response. But, no, that verse was meant to be in the context of the church, the faith community of believers. Jesus was speaking to the church, first and foremost (because that may just be faith’s greatest challenge). 

I can imagine a time when we invite Him in, but over time, the invite becomes a challenge to our faith, overbearing even, that is, when the reality of life sinks in, and we start to question the purpose of that invite, that first knock. 

Like that young man, we all (at some point in our faith journey) suffer from the disillusionment of the faith, clinging on to His coattails like the woman with an issue of blood yet, struggling to believe like the father who pleaded with Jesus, crying out, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” 

Mind you, that tension for some can lead to a long and lonely walk into the dark fortress of one’s existential terra incognito, an uncharted territory where we suffer from a “crisis of meaninglessness”. 

God knows I have been there countless of times. When a much admired man of God falls. Yes, I was there. When the church differs little from the world. When Christian leadership is so desperate to seek worldly approval. Yes, I was wandering in that dark fortress. 

When a scripture mutates into a self-serving doctrine dangled before a mindless audience. When believers proclaim with one heart their undying devotion and loyalty to a man of the most confounding moral standing. I was there...sometimes groping in the dark. 

And I am not even talking about the problem of evil aptly captured in this brief deductive exercise: -

“1) God exists, is all good, all knowing, and all powerful.

2) Such a being has no limits to its ability.

3) A good being will always eliminate all the evil that it can.

4) Evil exists, so God must not.”

CS Lewis once said: “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

Yes, that is the same invite Jesus extends to all who desire to follow Him. Count the cost. Bear the Cross. Overcome the world. Theodicy is therefore not about understanding why evil exists in a world under God’s watch. It is about why you still believe in a world where evil nevertheless exists under God’s watch. It is about you, and which direction you desire to go at many of faith‘s crossroads. 

And it is not so much about a comfortable understanding of faith as it is about a persistent overcoming by faith even when the going gets tough and the world is moving on without you. Some prodigals do come home after a long journey to find the meaning they have been chasing after, but never thought it would satisfy so little, if at all, when they finally found it.

 

Alas, other prodigals never came home. That is reality. They couldn’t confront a faith they could not understand, a love so contradictory, and a God who stood idly by when sufferings abound. No doubt, a reality we must also come to accept. 

So, will I ever come to accept the rigors of my faith, its tauntings and disillusionment? I hope not. For it would be a faith too comfortable for me. A faith I am scarce to indulge in for fear that it may turn me to one who rather seek the equivalent of a bottle of Port instead of the flowing river of life. 

Yet, I don’t deny the temptation is immense for a broken man like me, but the pull of Calvary is also immense as I, with eternal hope, earnestly struggle with the immensity of me.

 

Church and the devout's misdirection.

This morning, someone I know for decades wrote to me. That friend said that she’d met an ex-church worker. That ex-church worker had been working for church for decades and said it was a wake-up experience. This is that person’s own words as expressed: -

"I came out of the darkest pit. I am no longer a Christian. I am a free thinker". 

Ironically, it seems like that person has found the truth, and it had set that person free, at least free from the “darkest pit”. 

After hearing that, my friend stood there in shock, speechless. Me too. I read that and it took a while before I snapped out of it.

I however needed to write this note this morning to set the record straight. And the record has always been that we pay the price when we mistake the Church for Christ. That is the price not of the Cross, but the price of a devout’s misdirection. 

This reminded me of the sad City Harvest saga. It took a trial of many years, and many lives and faith destroyed, before the leaders came to their senses and apologised. 

As Peter denied Christ thrice before he bowed in utter remorse, it took the head of City Harvest that many times, three that is, before he ceased all struggles and accepted the verdict. But by then, many, I believe, had come out of their own “darkest pit” and...well, became free? 

Returning to the price of a devout’s misdirection, we are all never too innocent when we are embroiled in our own church’s saga. I always believe that humanity itself is already a struggle to make ends meet, that is, to untie the Gordian knot of our own unmaking as we confront the common temptations in the different contexts in which they unravel before us. 

But when you light the match of religiosity and toss it carelessly into the rapid kerosene river of the mess that we are struggling with, that is, the hypocrisy, the pride, the lust for power and the ego, what you get is an institutional inferno that perpetuates itself indefinitely. 

Alas, truth be told, the church is supposed to be the bride of Christ. That much is clear. But this is one bride that has her own issues; some of which are deep, dark ones that seldom see the light of day. 

Let me nevertheless make this controversial statement, and it is this: the rise of a leader is often taken to mean that it is an anointing of and from God. That is another bold presumption over the long and convoluted history of church leadership. 

But let’s face it, the rise of a leader can be for many reasons, and for some, the predominant reason can be one other than an anointing of and from God. Or it may start with that, in the Spirit, but end midway in the flesh. That is, to me, is one of the manifest symptom of a devout’s misdirection. 

And for this sacred reason, it is indeed a blessing for a leader to start in His Spirit, persevere no less in His Spirit, and complete the race gaining the crown of Life, yes, in His Spirit. 

Let me return to my point about misdirection above, and let me ask you this: which came first, Trump’s Office of the President or God’s anointing? In my view, it is (most of the time) the former. The office of the President brings about the coveted legitimacy. And the anointing is therefore its afterthought.

So, by default, he or she who enters that office is deemed anointed, not the other way round. It is the chicken-and-the-egg quandary all over again. But the difference, in the context of a country and a church, is that one is an academic teaser, while the other concerns lives, thousands, if not millions of them. That’s the sin of misattribution, the close cousin of misdirection. 

When Christ declared to Peter that upon this rock, I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail, made no mistake about it, He is not referring to a human means to a glorified end. He is however talking about a Godly means to a Godly end. Any other way conceived by men is no more than men building their own tower of babel to reach not the One who created us in His image, but to reach the ones who create gods in their own image.

This is the mark of a devout’s misdirection. It is as insidious as it is deluded. For the price of the Cross is not in building the church for all to marvel. It is in the building of the temple within us, so that all could be transformed by the power of His name that we bear. Make no mistake about that, because committing that mistake is the allure of the pit that turns ever darker every time we tell ourselves otherwise.

 

Have an overcoming mid-week. God bless.

 

Young Adult Retreat - The Five Tears of God.

Journal of a young adult retreat - the five tears of God.

This weekend I attended a young adult retreat. It was a four-day camp at Johor, Malaysia. I was there to minister and to receive ministry. 

Although the theme of the retreat was plugged-in, that is, connecting to the source of life and empowerment, I felt there was another message running in parallel and it was this: -

“Lord, let me be broken by the things that break the heart of God.” 

And the guiding verse for that message was Isaiah 42:3: “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice.”

Let me share why I felt that way.

As I went around and sat with the different groups to listen to their sharing, I realised that there was indeed a common thread that ran through the retreat, and it was a cry of the heart to be understood, to be authentic, to be restored and to overcome.

Most of those who attended the retreat are in their twenties, some are still studying, making their way to tertiary education, and others have just entered the workforce. 

These are people who candidly shared their struggles with faith in a world that challenges and tempts them in every way conceivable. There is no doubt that many have stumbled in their walk as they grapple to understand how to keep their faith intact and the hope alive. 

This led me to imagine the things that broke God’s heart and the yearning to know intimately the reality of this brokenness within my own life. And I can best describe it metaphorically as the five tears of God.

1st tear - The struggle is about the one I have mentioned above. It is the struggle to make sense of the world as they experience it for the first time. 

I can imagine that God saw their heart and understood how they felt too. It was not a world so different from the time he sent his Son to live in and die for. In fact, the heart of men has not changed since then. And that breaks the heart of God. I call this struggle the struggle with the world.

2nd tear - This is the struggle of the faith. It is where the faith (that they know so well in the church their parents grow up in) meets the world that seeks to change them. 

In essence, it is a fight to resist conformity with the things and standards of the world. This can be quite a cultural shock for them when their carefully nurtured ideals confront raw reality. 

The widening gap for them is how to reconcile their faith with the world, how to remain set apart for God as they carry out their duties in the roles they play as students, employees, office colleagues and even bosses as they start their own businesses. 

I believe God hears their cry as the flickering candle of their faith tries their darnest to find the light at the end of the tunnel. Their struggles are not unfamiliar to God and that too breaks the heart of God.

3rd tear - This is the struggle of the heart as it battles to remain pure. I have spoken to a few of the young adults in the retreat and their struggles went to the root of their faith. 

They struggle to live an upright life, yet there are urges within them that they could not understand. They want to do right with God, to overcome the siren calls of the flesh, but every time the resolve is built up, the carnal tide raises another standard of novelty and self-indulgence that they find almost impossible to overcome.

Their failure led them to a place of resignation and disappointments. Their cries at most times fell on deaf ears. This reality breaks their heart and it breaks the Father’s heart too. 

4th tear - This struggle is the struggle to find meaning and purpose. This is where the disillusionment is the strongest. Their moral compass points to everything but the Cross that they so desire to draw near to. The things of the world do not go strangely dim for them. In fact, it insidiously illuminates to lure them in like a mirage in the desert calling to their unrooted soul. 

Alas, the pursuit of success is a success of the world, the happiness they seek is to never be content with what they have, and the only goal that settles them strangely is the one that comes with a heart that strives endlessly for more and more, because no one wants to be left behind. And the online acronym “FOMO” was how one of them described it to me. 

This is a heart that is lost in the midst of the chaos, and in their anguish, they chased in vain for the things that can never satisfy or fill their hearts. This is the things that break the heart of God. 

And...

5th tear - For the final tear, let me just say that the retreat did not end there. 

In the nights of sharing about the brokenness experienced in relationships, the last tear was reserved to that of our Saviour‘s. It was a human tear for the same suffering that we all go through or will go through. 

It was the cry of the heart when he was left to die on the Cross. It was also a cry to draw all men and women unto him, because there is a better way amidst our disappointment and disillusionment. 

The Cross is to me never an abstract, or merely a philosophical argument. It is historical and messanic. It is redemptive and restorative. Most of all, it is a life exemplified by perseverance and love. 

The hope of the Cross is about the hope of a journey of high discipline and of the narrow road which eventually translates into a life of overcoming. 

Our Saviour’s tear therefore supersedes all. It transcends the lures and seduction of this world. It satisfies the vacantness of our heart. And it nourishes the spirit for a purpose beyond the glitters of this world and the appetites of the flesh. 

As the retreat ends today, I leave the place with this hope for the young adults who participated in the retreat with utmost sincerity. 

This hope is anchored in the assurance that there is a valley - that though can’t be avoided - but more so, there is also a way out of our valley. And this way is led by a love unconditional, bought for with a sacrifice unwavering, and is made complete when the last human tear trickled down with this cry: “It is finished”. 

And it is finished because He has turned our mourning into dancing, our sadness into joy and our endless striving into a peace unsurpassed, unhurried.

For this is the same joy from the tear shed by a human two thousand years ago that has and will transform our hardscrabble journey into one of ultimate victory. Amen

Easter Sunday - Love never gives up.

You know, when Sammi Cheng, who is a Christian, posted an abridged version of 1 Corinthians 13: "Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance,” I told myself there is a good Easter Sunday message hidden in there this morning. 

Led by that verse, she told the media that she is holding on to her marriage because true love never gives up. 

Now, I am not saying that things will eventually work out for them. For who is to know what the future holds for the couple? Only time will tell right? Andy will still have to restore the trust. 

For starters, Andy was and is truly remorseful, at least that was what his 7-mins tearful plea for forgiveness tells me. Although one may doubt his sincerity, I would however go with Sammi on this wholeheartedly, because her reliance on Corinthians is the source of hope for everything that this world has turned its back on.

Let me derail a little to lament about why the verse Sammi cited stands in contrast to the values of the world. 

“Love never gives up” or "Love never fails".

The world is often about giving up. If things do not go your way, give up. If he lies to you, give up. If he commits the unpardonable sin in a marriage, give up. Many have indeed asked Sammi to dump Andy. Her decision had in fact caused a debate about why she had even bothered to forgive him. 

Alas, it seems there is a new shame in the world today. It is the shame of ”why are you still hanging on to that adulterer?” He’s not worth your time or your heart, just give up. 

How about “love never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance?” 

Well, the world sees it differently. The world doesn’t think faith is a worthwhile pursuit.

Faith is the hope of evidence not seen, but the world has no time for that. It wants it now. It wants a tangible touch or things that are set before its eyes. It‘s instant gratification for immediate consumption. A consumerist heart therefore brooks no time lag or lapse. 

The world sees a meek heart as weak, a broken soul as defeated, a repentant spirit as damaged goods, and a returning prodigal son through the envious eyes of his elder brother, not the teary eyes of his Father.

So, in a marital betrayal as biting as Andy’s, the world’s advice to Sammi would be to walk away and find a better, more perfect companion. There is surely one waiting for her out there. Why continue on in a broken marriage? Your heart can’t take another blow from an unfaithful spouse. Protect your heart from now on, at all costs.

At this juncture, with biting irony, the words of CS Lewis come to mind. 

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

Thankfully, Sammi saw it differently. She said “marriage consists not only of the happiness and warmth they give each other, but also embraces "each other's mistakes" and includes "mutual forgiveness"”. 

Undeniably, that is an apt Easter Sunday message for believers. Although I can’t imagine the pain she has to go through, I can nevertheless learn from her how she had relied on Corinthians for hope, direction and forgiveness. As a Christian, she walked her talk.

She called the incident "an important lesson in our marriage", and said they “need to face up to each other's flaws and not give up on themselves or the other party.”

Alas, if you go into a marriage expecting your the-other-half to be the infallible other-half, then consider CS Lewis’ advice to seal yourself from harm for good, that is, “Lock (your heart) up safe in the casket or coffin...in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable...” 

Of course, there are no free lunches. It takes two to clap in a marriage, and if one is unrepentant, the other party has to make a choice; a painful one no doubt. This is definitely not a case of locking your heart in a casket or coffin. For if you love boldly and freely in this fallen world, you are bound to be hurt deeply too.

On the contrary, this is a case of taking the courage to confront, forgive, and if one continues unrepentant, walk away in peace and hope. Mind you, I am not so delusional to believe that every betrayal in a marriage ends up stronger than before.  

But where the fallen spouse is prepared to do what it takes to make the marriage work, or return broken like the prodigal son did, the other spouse has to make a choice too. Whatever it is, it is still hers or his to make, and duly respected. 

If one makes it the same way Sammi made hers, it brings out a glimpse of this important Easter Sunday message this morning. It is the message of the Cross, and it is about a love that forgives unconditionally even if he has to bear the worst that his persecutors have set up for him. 

This is true freedom. That is, the freedom to set your own self free from hate, a hate that robs your soul from healing, restoration and redemption. Lewis B Swedes once said: “To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that prisoner was you.”

If you bring the Calvary message into the centre of your marriage, it is truly about second chances; the same gift Sammi offers to Andy. And it is hope that Andy will take it seriously this time. Alas, while the world withdraws from fallen humanity, considering them beyond redemption, Jesus drew them all unto Him - no questions asked - for His love redeems all.

Let me leave you with this thought by Dr Robert Thurman. He said: “It’s impossible to love humanity in general; you can only love humanity in particular.” 

Fyodor Dostoevsky, in The Brothers Karamazov, puts the same truth this way: - 

“The more I love humanity in general the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I often make plans for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually face crucifixion if it were suddenly necessary. Yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together. I know from experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs me and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he’s too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I hate men individually the more I love humanity.”

But in a marriage, that is one luxury the couple have to abandon at the step of the altar. Love is no longer an ideal, that is, a concept about loving in general. 

In a journey where the two shall become one, you can expect more than just tolerating with his nose blowing or her taking too long over her dinner. 

Along the way, your altar profession will be tested, and for some transgressions, you will be tested to the very core of your being. 

From a love that is professed in general, that is, an ideal you are prepared in your dreams to die for, you have to love in particular, in particular, the one you have sworn to love under all circumstances. Are you up to it then? Is your passion strong and real enough for it? 

I believe as a Christian Sammi drew her strength from Corinthians because that was a love that walked with us all the way, from the day of his baptism to the day he breathed his last. 

That was a love that gave Himself for us and joined us with Him forever. It was a love that offered atonement; a word that author Phil  Cousineau wrote can be broken into two, “at” and “onement”, that is, “at one with, in harmony.” That's His love for humanity, particularised for each of us, and offered not as a concept, but a living sacrifice. Amen.

Postscript: -

After the leaked video, Sammi wrote this in her Instagram: “Happiness doesn’t mean everything has to be smooth, there will be tests. I believe this experience will help us get back on the right track and that our lives will be reborn.”

I wish them the very best. Whatever happens, I pray that the message of forgiveness will be restored to the central place of humanity, and in homes and marriages. And in a world of intense anger, distrust and hatred, we need more than ever a forgiveness that is beyond this world. That is, a forgiveness that is timeless, enduring and unconditional. 

My imposter syndrome as a Christian.

Impostor syndrome is a strange feeling. It is a term first used by psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes in 1978 "to refer to otherwise successful individuals who felt their achievements were undeserved."

In the papers today, journalist Zhaki Abdullah personally felt that way as he wrote:-

"After graduating in 2008, I have hit most of the major milestones of adulthood, I got a job, got married, had a child and moved into my own place. Yet on some level, I have always felt like I have been pretending at adulthood."

And Zhaki is not alone in feeling that way. 

He added, "while (impostor syndrome) is not classified as a formal mental disorder, as many as 70 per cent of people have such feelings, according to research published in the International Journal of Behavioural Science in 2011."

Even famous writer like Neil Gaiman and renown astronaut Neil Armstrong felt that way at some point in their lives. 

For Neil Gaiman, he "had nightmares about having someone show up at his door one day to tell him to get a real job instead of being a writer."

And for Neil Armstrong, he once told Gaiman in a function attended by "artists and scientists, writers and discoverers of things" that "he felt less accomplished than other people."

While I don't know whether Armstrong felt that he was an "imposter", I guess the feeling of inadequacy (or fake-ness) in the midst of other equally, if not more, accomplished individuals is quite natural. 

I think if we walk down that road and start comparing with others, there is just no end to feeling the "personal shortcomings" regardless of how accomplished we are. 

And unless you are a dictator who lives in an artificial cocoon of self-elevation and grandeur, where there is no end to the sycophancy bestowed on you by eager beavers no different from the mindless fans, no one is ever spared the same feeling that Armstrong or Gaiman (or Zhaki) experienced at some point in their lives.  

But, be that as it may, I am writing this morning about another form of imposter syndrome I once felt (and sometimes am still feeling). It is a sense of inauthenticity that quietly gnaws at my soul. And it is of a religious kind. 

As a Christian, I felt this most intensely when I am in an evangelistic service or some spiritual seminar when overseas preachers take over the stage in front of thousands of smitten believers. 

Somehow, there is what I call the feeding the frenzy syndrome when you are on an elevated stage and the expectation of the crowd reaches stratospheric levels. 

This usually comes after the emotions of the congregation are all psyched up by the lachrymose worship and praise songs. 

While I am not saying that it is improper to be jubilant and rejoicing in our faith, what I am however saying is that most of us risks leaving our brains at the door as we rush headlong with our bleeding hearts into the altar of indiscriminate blessings and promises being hosed straight at our faces.

And in a charged up environment like that, we often take everything being uttered at the pulpit hook, line and sinker.

This is where I developed that imposter syndrome as a believer.

I had personally attended countless of such mass gatherings in the past, and like an all-you-can-eat buffet bar, I grabbed everything I can with both hands and swallowed them whole. 

If a preacher claims healing unconditionally, I munch it down without thought. If a preacher announces a revelation of indiscriminate prosperity and blessings to all and sundry, I devour it with mindless relish (and that usually comes before a collection). 

And if a preacher proclaims the end of days in his lifetime (or very soon), I rush home to set up a hermitage of weeping, fasting, sackcloth donning and ash showering. 

Although I do that no more, I have in recent years been to a few of such services where hungry believers desperate for a breakthrough in their lives and/or the lives of their loved ones latch on to such promises as if their dear life depend on it.

To be honest, I somehow understand their cries for help and relief. I too was once in their shoes praying for a loved one to be healed but saw our collective fervent prayers fall on the auditorium's carpeted floor like thunderous pin-drops.  

My point here is that there is this undeniable gap between our prayers of faith and our cravings for signs and wonders. 

Let me clarify that this post is not about not praying and believing because of unanswered prayers, but it is about not being so naive and suggestible about bold claims of answered prayers.

You see, if Jesus’ ministry were defined strictly by signs and wonders, he would not have missed the opportunity of demonstrating the greatest miracle in his lifetime by walking out of the hung Cross totally unharmed just before he heaves his final breath (that is, it would not be “Lord, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing”, but instead, “Lord, it is about time you show them what you are made of”).

So, forget about the empty tomb where only a few had witnessed it. Let's go for broke and stroll down from the bloodied Cross and leave hundreds of skeptics speechless. That would surely go down in the annals of history as the greatest supernatural event of all time. 

Yet, Jesus chose otherwise not just to fulfill the prophecy, but because there is no greater miracle in this world than a life reborn. And that has always been the gospel since the beginning of time, that is, to reconcile all unto Him. 

In the end, physical miracles transfix the heart only for a season. A heart transformed however lasts for all seasons, and like the life of Christ, impacts generations. 

It is therefore not about answered prayer so much as it is about a transformed life. It is not about delaying death due to sickness as it is about confronting death and asking, "Where is thy sting?" 

And it is surely not about being rich in this world by clinging to the promises of prosperity as it is about being rich in God through following the steps of the risen Christ – wherever He takes us, through the valleys and all.

Coming back full circle, it is therefore not about signs and wonders at our beck and call as it is about fulfilling His call and purpose in our life.

So, I sometimes still feel fake about my faith when I assure others that God has plans for them to prosper, to be the head and not the tail, and to succeed in whatever they are doing and not encounter failures because our God is undeniably successful in all that He does.

I know this is what the hearer wants to hear, and I proclaim it in a way that it is heard that way. 

Again, to be honest, I really do not know what God exactly has in store for a life I lay my hands on. He deals with each of us individually and personally. It is a lifelong relationship for each of us and the journey is without fail a fraught one. 

He doesn't hand us a fixed map which clearly spells out the booby traps along the way and shows us how we can overcome them if we follow a 5-step program or a 7-step manual. If anything, he lights our path one faithful step at a time – and mind you, the surrounding darkness at most times is not adequately illumed. 

In other words, no two believers are created alike. No two share the same journey of faith even though the destination is the same. No two succeed or fail the same way as one may fail successfully and the other may succeed miserably. 

All I know is that to resist being an imposter of the faith, I have to confront my own failings, acknowledge my vulnerabilities, and then take each step and each day He sheds light on at a time. There will always be surrounding darkness before me, and faith - for me - is to keep moving forward as His light leads. 

That is the only way I know to live an authentic Christian life in this trying journey empowered by growth, hope and resiliency. For the ultimate fulfillment of faith is not in asking for providence to remove every obstacle standing in my way. It is on the contrary to follow in His footsteps to walk through everyone of them. Ours is an overcoming faith, and not a convenient and easy one. Cheerz.