For a long time I thought faith was about having the right answers.
Lately I wonder if it is something simpler.
Perhaps faith begins with a willingness to see what is true.
Fear distorts.
Pride distorts.
Shame distorts.
But truth remains.
The challenge is not creating truth.
The challenge is seeing it.
Maybe walking in truth is learning to remove the lenses that keep us from seeing reality clearly.
Today I woke up, grabbed my coffee, and wanted to work on my next post about Crime and Punishment. Before I could begin writing, I logged into a couple of the platforms where I share my content. The first thing I see are graphs showing how people are engaging with my posts. It showed several of my posts have not been viewed at all, which started to create uncomfortable feelings.
Instead of focusing on the feelings, I began to ask myself several questions. What am I feeling? I am feeling sad, anxious, and down. Why am I feeling this way? Because people are not engaging with my content, thus my content must not be good. What does this say about me? I’m not good enough. Now I am feeling even more depressed. Then something reminded me of a past post.
This post said that being human means we get off course at times, and how we need reminders to help us change our headings. New questions started to form in my mind. Why did you start posting this content? To share what I enjoy and learn from older books. What is the main purpose of these platforms you are using? At the core, to make money. And because they make money through attention, engagement becomes important to them. This helped me remember that when the aims are different, they lead down different paths. My core intent is to post truth, so my aim will lead me somewhere different, and it’s a place not everyone wants to go.
Fear focuses on the giants.
Truth remembers the whole landscape.
Humility is often mistaken for thinking less of yourself.
But perhaps humility isn’t about thinking less of yourself at all.
Perhaps it is about seeing reality clearly.
The proud person says:
“I’m more important than I am.”
The ashamed person says:
“I’m less important than I am.”
Humility stands in the middle and says:
“I am who I am.”
No exaggeration.
No dismissal.
Just truth.
When we see ourselves clearly, we no longer need to elevate ourselves above others.
Nor do we need to diminish ourselves beneath them.
We are simply free to be who we are.
We often think our attention stays inside our own minds.
It doesn’t.
A frustration revisited often enough can become resentment.
A fear fed continually can become anxiety.
Yet the opposite is true as well.
Gratitude grows when it is noticed.
Beauty grows when it is observed.
Peace grows when it is protected.
What we repeatedly pay attention to tends to spread.
In the next chapter titled Visitors, people came to Thoreau carrying different things. Some brought fear. Some sought companionship. Some came out of curiosity, need, freedom, or simple enjoyment.
What struck me most was how carefully Thoreau observed them. He seemed interested not only in who they were, but in what brought them to his door.
Yet the chapter wasn’t only about the visitors. Thoreau was wrestling with his own judgments as well.
He wanted the woodchopper to awaken to deeper intellectual and spiritual questions, yet he also admired the man’s simplicity and contentment. He saw both a lack and a wisdom.
Perhaps the marrow of the chapter lies in that tension.
There is meaning to be found in life, but we don’t need to force meaning into everything. There is value in seeking deeper understanding, but there is also wisdom in simply being present to what is before us.
Sometimes maturity is knowing when to dig deeper, and when to appreciate the simplicity already in front of us.
Many of us struggle when life asks us to enter a new season.
We fear that if we can no longer do what we once did, then perhaps we no longer matter.
Many ancient civilizations knew this concept. In the Bible, the Levites were not discarded from serving at 50 years old, their responsibilities changed.
They stopped carrying the burden, but they continued serving the people.
Perhaps faithfulness is not holding on to the same role forever.
Perhaps faithfulness is learning when to step into the next one.
A changing season does not diminish your worth.
It may simply be preparing you for a different way to contribute.
The world teaches us to keep striving for more: more wealth, more recognition, more accomplishment. Ancient wisdom points in a different direction. It reminds us of the importance of pausing, resting, and renewing ourselves. This proverb speaks not only of physical rest, but of mental rest as well. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves is permission to stop striving and simply be.
For a long time, fear felt like the entire sky. Lately, I’ve begun noticing rays of light breaking through the clouds. The storm may still be present, but it is no longer all I can see.
