My faith is a tempest. It ebbs and flows with the currents of my life, stirring the banks of my soul with a violent and heedless abandon.
My faith knows no rules or boundaries. It is the force which, no matter what season, will not be tamed into submission. It grows stronger with the wind, bathes in the sun, warms the cold, and tenders the new spring.
My faith is a wild, whimsical beat to which I must dance. It is, at times, the sweetest melody and yet the most unexpected harmony of my song. It will not adhere to a particular decimal.
My faith is unpredictable. It has the ability to break my heart and wash in my tears. It does not care for fractures or cracks; my faith welcomes the ruptures of life as a challenge to the might of its storm.
My faith loves to be undeniable. When I would downplay or hide from its intensity, my faith will burst through my defenses, wrecking my plans and shattering my attempts.
My faith cannot be lost. It has found me after a long and weary search, and it will not leave me be. It has grown too fond of our walk together, early in the mornings, surrounded by nothing but sunlight. It savors the light but it welcomes the darkness, knowing this is the moment it can shine all the more brightly.
My faith will not abandon me. It uses hope like a weapon, devastating my soul with a reckless joy when I am at my weakest.
My spirit is my faith’s favorite companion. They are entwined closer than any lovers, overcome with each other’s presence. My spirit adores my faith’s strength, while my faith glorifies my spirit’s willingness to be free.
My faith is full of wonder and awe. It delights in the unexplainable. It seeks the moments when life’s mess is at its most complicated, because it’s then that my faith feels most beautiful.
My faith overcomes life’s landscapes. It strolls through the valleys, savoring each step as a chance to renew. My faith marches over mountains, knowing that it can and will conquer bigger and more fearsome heights. It soaks in oceans and immerses with a thirst to explore profounder depths.
My faith loves to paint watercolors of courage. It does not care for lines or shapes, but looks to splash the canvas of my heart with bright reds, burning golds, and deepest blues. I am the paintbrush in the hand of my faith and cannot stop it from creating me with a kaleidoscopic palette.
My faith believes in me. It welcomes my doubt with the sweetest laughter, wrapping me up in a gentle, all-consuming fire which burns my days with scorching delight.
My faith sees the tender light of my hope and builds it a beautiful lighthouse, set amidst the tempest as a beacon, a reminder.
My faith is selfish. It is shameless in its love of beauty and triumph. It calls my life its greatest adventure, each day a grand caper to be pulled off by my faith’s giddy design.
My faith brands me worthy. It calls me by name. It whispers in the chaos and shouts through the stillness: “You are mine.” It holds me when I would run and urges me forward when I delay.
My faith does not make my life easy, yet it makes all things possible.
Caitlin Mae is an amateur adventure curator, currently navigating her 20’s with a broken compass. She spends her days exploring her own heart and searching for the gold in others’, with the help of caffeine and Jesus. She’s currently working on her own little corner of the internet, www.leftofmae.com, launching this summer. In the meantime, you can find her discovering Nashville one amazing restaurant, concert, and friend at a time.
Photography via Bethany Legg Photography