I just moved from Nashville, TN to Durham, NC a few months ago and did my best to sort through a lifetime of furniture and keepsakes to decide what I would keep as I was downsizing. I did a pretty good job, but there were still six boxes in the attic that I didn’t get a chance to sift through, so I told the movers, “just put them on the truck” thinking I’d get to them when I moved.
I’d been warned against moving boxes just to be moving them, but as it turned out, I fell walking my dogs during the ice storm we had a month ago and broke my left kneecap. No surgery needed, for which I am grateful, but being immobilized for the past four weeks gave me some time to tackle those last six boxes.
There were many items to just shred, but one stuck out. It was a drawing I’d done that I would call the “stages of my faith.” It was between two packets of papers, one dated 2014 and one 2017, so I presume that I had done the drawing around ten years ago. I’ve included it here.
I recognized it immediately. I don’t know why I decided to draw on the paper upside down, but the stairsteps reminded me that faith has both plateaus and hills. As I contemplated the first ledge, “I am a sinner,” I asked myself what I was thinking when I wrote and drew over 10 years ago.
It was more like 20 years ago when I embarked on an examination of my faith. It was in 2006 that I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and changed my life. It was around then that I realized that growing up Roman Catholic, I had been enthroned in the concept of personal sin, but for me it always had a “but” associated with it. “I am a sinner, but… I’m not as bad as the friend who cheats on his taxes, or the boss who takes money out of the cash register where I do relief work as a pharmacist.” “I am a sinner, but I give money to the church and non-profits, and I don’t gossip about people behind their back.”
“I am a sinner, but….”
It took me months and even years to realize that real faith starts with a hard stop: “I am a sinner.”
I stopped comparing myself to other people trying to earn God’s favor or look better in our capitalist world. How big a house did I really need? How many vacations did I need to take?
My faith began with my understanding that my relationship with God was based on an unwavering floor. I am God’s creation, but I am also a sinner. For me, it was impossible to move to the next level of faith, without sitting on this one plateau for a very, very long time.
More about the other stages of my faith in future posts, but I wanted to share how a box of memories brought back an important realization for me and started me on my relationship with God, not as tyrant, but as a friend.
Blessings, my friend,
Agatha