Just about the time I think my foundational faith is rock solid, I am given a glimpse into the tiny cracks of uncertainly that surround its core. While my commitment to Christ and who He is remains strong, some weaknesses remain within me.
The past hurts, disappointments, and failures create the sedimentary, or less solid, layers of my foundation. When these layers shift, it leaves me feeling unsettled. I grasp at the crumbling pieces, sliding off my rock, trying to keep it all together, wondering how my faith could be even slightly shaken.
A good friend of mine told me to spend some time in the Word. To pray about what God wants to reveal in me. That just maybe He desires to purge the hurts and heal the brokenness of my past to re-establish or reinforce my faith. This morning, I turned to Hebrews 11, which is the book of faith. The first scripture reads, “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Sure & Certain=Faith.
I am sure that what I hope for is to breakthrough this phase in life where I feel stuck. Lately, it seems that no matter how hard I try my life’s gear is strongly stuck in neutral. Quite honestly, I’m done with this “wilderness phase” of my life, of this I am sure. I began to prayerfully ponder the second half of this scripture – to be certain of what we do not see. I do not and cannot see God, at least not in the physical sense. Although I have often seen God in the beauty He creates.
A couple of years ago, my son and I visited one of God’s most majestic creations on earth: The Grand Canyon. We arrived just in time to watch the sunset over the far rim. The views from our stone porch were breathtaking. No picture we took could do it justice. You must see it yourself.
Early the next morning, we ventured deeper into the canyon, despite my need for a knee brace. The hike down into the canyon was fairly easy while climbing back up the rim proved a bit more challenging. Yet, what made both treks difficult was stepping on the tiny rocks that had eroded over time and fallen on the path. I would grab hold of a branch or to the canyon side to regain my balance until I was onto the next sure-footed step. There were passages along the trail where you did not want to fall. At times, I could feel my son’s strong grasp on my arm to steady me, as he bemoaned about not wanting to watch me airlifted out of the canyon. (He’s a real card, that one.) This trip will always be one of my most cherished memories with my son.
I’ve begun to realize that those pieces of loose dirt that might cause me to stumble or create cracks in my bedrock are exactly what God is trying to release in me. Letting go of the hurt or debris of the past is His way of strengthening my footing and shoring my foundation. While the shifting rock feels unsettling, I now know this is part of the plan. He alone is my Rock on which to hold while things are shifting.
This brings me back to my Hebrews certainty: It lies in the truth that God exists and that He hears my every prayer. There is no doubt in my mind. My life’s foundation has already been established in God’s promise. He alone knows the plans for my life and has declared so in His word: plans for prosperity, hope, and a future. My foundational faith now equals Promise, Certainty, and Anticipation.
Hebrews 11:1 – Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.
Jeremiah 29:11 – For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
I like going to the gym-mostly to use the elliptical machine, free weights, and some of the other muscle-toning equipment. That’s it for me; yet, the place is always filled with those bodybuilders, testing the boundaries of their own muscular strength. And when they really push the limits, they rely on a “spotter,” a support person that allows them to lift more weight.
In this morning’s worship, my pastor asked, “How many of you came to church this morning, thinking you were attending the earlier service?” 
It was one of those mornings, during my daily communion time with God, that I did not feel joyful; rather, my burden felt too great and my heart too enormously heavy. It was that elephant-on-your-chest, feels-to-hard-to-breath heavy. Stress. “What am I doing wrong? Am I not praying the right way? When will this trial end? God, you know I’m done with this storm and I’ve got nothing left in my tank.” Tears fell from my cheeks to my Bible. I am at a loss as to what to do. All prayed out – but, God already knows.