“Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” - John 20:19-31
In today’s Gospel, Thomas echoes the voice we hear when our faith challenges us. Each of us has a story and dream of how our life will unfold. Although everyone’s course is unique, we hope or expect our desires to come to fruition in some way. When an invitation presents itself beyond our mind and heart capacity, we may feel numb, angry, out of control, or lost. Thomas reminds me how faith is not a one-time binary choice but an unceasing call of daily choices to believe and trust in the journey. My doubts and fears may be tremendous in my eyes, but I am encouraged to envision a God whose love and dreams are bigger beyond my reach, one that cannot be quantified or contained.
In these stories, God speaks to us as we are regardless of our stage in life. He welcomes us patiently with open arms as we find our ways back to Him whether if we stumbled, doubted, or gave up on taking the risk to live out our faith. Jesus is always entering the locked places of our lives. He comes unexpected, uninvited, and sometimes even unwanted into our closed lives, hearts, and minds. He offers peace with hopes of us trusting that we can be brave enough to break our hearts.
Within the last two years, I invested a great amount of time, energy, prayer, and research as I grieved and came to acceptance with some key relationships. I yearned for peace and kept repeating to myself, “Forgive them, for they do not know.” But it never made it to my heart. Although I immersed myself in studying and diagnosing every possibility to understand the human condition and learn about the various forms of emotional legacy, I eventually came to a stopping point. I then found myself reminiscing my walk alongside another fellow pilgrim on the camino, and he said to me, “You know what’s so beautiful about walking in the dark? Just look up, you’ll be surrounded by the stars.”
However long the night, I carried those words with me and had faith that dawn will eventually break. Time, patience, and trust were what I needed to risk it all for a dream only God can see, and I realized that the greatest risk in life is possibly not taking any risks. My circumstance has not changed, but my perspective shifted towards something greater where gratitude, peace, and honest conversations with God holds me constant in the natural pendulum of life. God invites me to remain hopeful, to not hold my breath, and love myself enough to give myself many more chances. He wants me to embrace my humanity and fragility instead of fighting it. He wants to offer me grace.
Lord, help me to be brave enough to break my own heart.