"But what am I doing here? I know I was in Eaton's this morning doing some shopping."
"Remember mom, you're with family now. I'm your son Michael."
"But how did I get here in the first place?"
"Don't worry about that now. As Michelle says, let God worry about it. He wouldn't have got you this far if He wasn't watching out for you."
"I guess you're right. I'm so mixed up today."
"Don't worry, mom. It will all come back in time. It always does."
Such dialogue is common these days as my mother's grasp on reality continues to slip. It's so hard to watch her often search for the road to lucidity. All Terry and I can do is assure her that we're right there on the road beside her.
I know that my mother's struggles have propelled me into doing some pretty heavy reading about the whole ball game, from Carlo Carretto to Hans Kung, from C.S Lewis to Jean Vanier.
My mother's faith is rock soiid. I envy that.
Her faith has alway been more about prayer than sacraments, more about devotion than doctrine.
Indeed, I think faith is a gift that is assigned in unequal measure. Some get a bucket full, while others, like me, only a cup or two.
And so, I continue to study my beliefs and practices ever mindful that some of my questions may have no answers.
I'm also beginning to realize that there is a limit to the power of reason.
I believe reason can only take you to the door.
It's faith that opens it.
While I do agree that some have been bestowed with a greater propensity for faith than others, I don't believe that it comes easy to anyone, even your mother. It is something one must work on everyday, as you have been doing. It is something one must pray for.
ReplyDeleteOn the relationship between faith and reason, you may consider reading Pope John Paul II's encyclical Fides et Ratio, if you have not done so.