Faith

Someone, somewhere has lost their Faith. Like an ice cube, it melted, slowly perhaps. Or like a tumble out of an open window it fell, a victim of the gravity of some situation. Faith can be a stronghold, a strong cup of coffee, a strong arm to hold you. Or, it can be the evidence of it's own demise. When does one actually lose one's Faith? Faith in Love. Faith in Hope. Faith in Goodness. And how is it that it falls with a feather to the gutter amongst the gravel and dirt?

I have been there, in the gutter of hope, wrestling with my own demons of wanting to be right, and moreso, wanting others to believe I am right. My faith in myself dwindled to a trickle, once a stream. I have reclaimed that force again and again. With one great gust the feather takes flight and soars again.

If a God does not hold you in his arms, nor a father nor a lover, nor any corporeal entity you can still find that Faith even in the deepest darkness of twisted vines and crushing stone. If you cannot find it alone, ask another, one who has that light, to share it with you. It will grow to cover you both.