My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Finding Faith In Ourselves
We stand in our way. The prospect of change is more frightening than is the familiarity of that failure that guarantees our weakness, our incompleteness. If we let go, we would be as faithful to ourselves, only now to who we can be rather than to whom we may have been, that part that has so far wanted to be the entire self. If we would become our failings and treasure our limitations, it is perhaps because we have no appreciation of our value, the meaning we have in ourselves and in God. To hold so tightly to limitation is to lack faith in us, to have been too wary, too frightened to hope.
Labels:
being,
change,
faith,
fear,
God,
hope,
letting go,
limitations,
meaning,
ourselves
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment