Living with Eyes of Faith

 

Life of Christ (Week 13 of 27)

Have you ever looked back over time and realized that you witnessed a miracle? Or that you might have?

I spent a number of years in that cold place of unbelief and what I thought was pure rationale. I knew. Intellect was my god and I spoke the language of logic and reason (not that it made any sense, looking back).

Eyes of faith? No thanks. Didn’t need em, didn’t want em.

As I read the Gospels, I often find myself nodding. I don’t like relating with the Pharisees, but it’s all too easy to do.

Miracles are no cure for unbelief. Some would not believe though one were to rise daily from the dead. No sign could be wrought which would bring complete conviction, for the will can refuse assent to what the intellect knows to be true.

Life of Christ, Chapter 26, paragraph 6

The main argument I had against Christianity was that I thought it was stupid. I was (I thought) the smartest person I knew.

Eyes of faith? Sounded like superstition to me…and not even a very intelligent superstition.

Nothing like having a pack of kids to take me down a few pegs…except that humbling happened way before I had my kids. The kids have just continued the trial by fire that my soul needs to be headed in the right direction.

It’s interesting how the definition of miracle changes based on where you stand and what you believe. For me, it’s a miracle that I’m here, still alive. I know the trouble I courted; I know the end I flirted with.

But others not familiar with my interior disposition (including close family) may shake their heads and wonder why I’m being so dramatic. I have advanced degrees and a resume that some call impressive. I’m happily married with a family and a house and a fairytale life. Where’s the miracle in that?

That’s just the point, isn’t it? For some people, there’s nothing that would hold up to be classified as a miracle. It wouldn’t matter, as Sheen says, if there was a resurrection from the dead every day.

The eyes of faith are sometimes a matter of perspective. They require you to trust in Someone greater than yourself, Someone you can’t control or predict or do much more than…love.

For a Type A control freak, the eyes of faith and the life of faith seem daunting. Scary, even.

It feels like a gamble. It’s a discipline that molds you into someone closer to who He aims for you to become.

The fact is that you can’t see the miracle that you are blind to. You can reason it away: the flowers were going to bloom anyway, the kid would have been born regardless, that person would have said that heartfelt thing no matter what.

Just as God rarely (or, in my case, never) speaks with bolts of lightning punctuating his thunderous voice, He also seems to use the ordinary experiences as the miracles that most grab me and impact my life.

He uses the people right beside me to speak to me, and He’s not afraid to lean down and tap into nature and circumstance to pull a few miracle punches my way.

It’s just a hunch, but I’ll bet I’m not the only one…

Reading Assignment:

Chapters 27-28

Discussion Questions:

1. Can you think of a miracle in your life? Take a moment to thank God for the gift of it.

2. How can you use your experience with miracles (even the small, everyday things) to witness to others of the love of God?

Feel free to comment on anything from our assignment this past week!

Read More: http://spiritualdirection.com/topics/book-club

For More Information on the Book Club:  http://spiritualdirection.com/csd-book-club

About Sarah Reinhard

Sarah Reinhard continues to delight ”and be challenged by” her vocations of Catholic wife and mother. She’s online at SnoringScholar.com and is the author of a number of books for families.

This article is reprinted with permission from our friends at Roman Catholic Spiritual Direction.

Subscribe to CE
(It's free)

Go to Catholic Exchange homepage

MENU