Reflections on Faith: Unfinished Thoughts
Musings from a Weathered Chair; Where faith is lived, not performed.
Mornings At The Lake
Most mornings at the lake, I wake up and look out over the water. The light is different every day. Sometimes it’s glassy and still, while other times the water is restless. This morning, it was snowing—quietly, steadily—softening everything it touched. I’ve learned not to rush these moments, especially during my Sabbath time. Not to explain them away or turn them into lessons too quickly. There is something holy about simply paying attention. Faith, for me, has become less about answers and more about presence. Less about certainty and more about surrender. I notice God most clearly not when I am trying to define Him, but when I slow down enough to see what is already there. These unfinished thoughts aren’t polished or complete. They’re the result of living, failing, paying attention, and trying again, much like the reflections I see on the lake. This is a place to hold them. If faith has begun to feel loud, performative, or hollow, perhaps it’s time to sit still again.
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