Something True About Faith
The wonder, it seems to me after just thirty-odd years of living, is that there is any hope for change, that nature and grace may so conspire as to lift a man out of the ruts he has dug for himself. … Just ground reclaimed, gradually and painfully, from the unsleeping enemy.
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As the last bit of daylight drained away into cloudy darkness, Alexander and I arrived at the question of what keeps a man holding on, what makes belief possible in the face of everything that argues against it. … I gave him my own answer – that the holy people I have known had a love for something real, that they could not have loved an illusion the way they loved God.
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I must keep the faith. If I lose the faith – if I can no longer even say with the centurion, “I believe, help my unbelief!†– then it will all be to me waste and horror. It’s not that this world doesn’t matter to me, or wouldn’t – if anything, it matters too much. But if God isn’t behind things, if love doesn’t undergird the world, then I will lose heart.
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