Shaking Faith

As I write this, I'm currently in my 50s. I used to be 20. I used to be sure.

When I was 20, my faith was like a jar of oil, clear, smooth,

consistent. I could jump in and float around the surface or dive deep down,

and wherever I went, I was surrounded by the same undisturbed substance. It held me.

It made sense. But then life happened, not all at once, but slowly, subtly,

and sometimes suddenly. Over time, experiences crept in, questions,

grief, contradiction, wonder. And one day, I realized that

my jar wasn't filled with oil alone anymore. Now it was half oil, half vinegar.