So, what to do with the hurt? With the anxiety? With the not-knowing? I’ve spent my life plumbing this conundrum. The best answer I have come up with is to flail around until I get bored with the anxiety itself, tired of fighting the river’s ebbs and flow. Eventually I lay back on the dark waters. I float in what we call faith, but that word is too flimsy–it has has too few letters and not enough heft and hope to adequately describe what it means to trust beyond knowing, to accept beyond imagining. Faith is something glorious, something leaping, something even delicious.
~Elizabeth Lesser, Facebook post, July 6, 2013