Searching for faith.

There are days I am not sure about this Jesus’ thing. To be honest, there are more of such days than there are few. And my Faith becomes dead for days, wrapped in the linen of intellectual knowledge and buried in a dark tomb of my
own distress with a heavy stone of doubt rolled over it,Impossible for any man to redeem me and steal my dead faith which is of no use anyway. But those are the days, I find
companionship with the women in Jesus’s life who woke up at dawn carrying spices to embalm his unrecognized dead body just like my unrecognized dead faith.
These women who on their way began to ask amongst themselves “who will roll
over the stone?” Because without the stone been rolled over, they cannot see their Lord. But the resurrection morning story has taught me that sometimes Faith is as simple as just
showing up with enough and the right amount of spices to stop the decaying process of doubt. Mary Magdalene could have aborted the
journey of visiting Jesus’s tomb because there were no men with them to roll the stone deep in the night. But when they simply showed up, God himself had rolled over the stone.

And I am reminded that in the dark days, when my faith is buried in this dark tomb of severe doubt, unsure why I want to believe this
Jesus story or be known as a Christian, God himself will show up for me in the absence of men, and speak to myweary heart” Woman, why are you weeping? And my trembling answer -My faith is gone Lord and I don’t know where I can find it. And in that
dark empty stone He shall say unto me…

“Do not weep woman. Your faith is risen”.

So on the days I doubt, On days I secretly reject the message from the pulpit, on the days I cast my Bible away, on the days I want to replace yoga and meditation with spirituality, on the days I can’t help but hate God, on the days the discrepancies in Bible are obvious, on the days I hate church and the people in them, on the days I am not sure why I am a Christian or attempt to be one,

I simply show up at dawn with the spices to embalm my dead soul from getting rotten so that God himself will move mountains on my behalf.

– Jo Nketiah

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