Sunday Morning Mulling, May 2, 2010: Faith pt. 2

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

Faith is like a favorite shirt.
Even though it’s threadbare and stained, it’s too comfortable to discard.  The thought of not having it to wear on a Sunday afternoon is untenable.  As you slip it on over your head there’s a sense of comfort and nostalgia.  As it lays against your skin it feels right, as it always has.
At some point you look at your favorite shirt and notice that it’s not only threadbare, but pocked with holes.  The stains you ignored before are more noticeable.  The colors have all but faded.  When family and friends visit, you are inclined to go and change into another shirt, one that won’t embarrass you because of it’s poor condition.  You toss it aside, apprehensively, for later consideration.

When you go to launder the shirt, you consider whether it’s time to finally throw it out.  You hold it up to the light and notice it’s so worn you can see through it.  It seems to no longer cover your nakedness, leaving you fully exposed.  You wad it up and hover over the garbage can, ready to finally throw it in. 

Instead, you spot clean the most obvious stains and add bleach to the laundry mix, hoping it won’t further deteriorate the fabric.  A dryer sheet goes in as it’s dried.  You pull it out of the dryer and smell whether it fresh, hoping it is.  You fold it to put away for next Sunday, but then suddenly  you pull it on.  Yes, it still feels right.  The comfort of the shirt is more important than the integrity of the fabric.  You’ll wear it another day. 

Faith is like a favorite shirt.