I’m reading Michael J. Fox’s ‘Always Looking Up’ at the moment and came across this paragraph:
“If optimism is a happy-go-lucky expectation that the odds are in my favor, that things are likely to break my way, and if hope is an informed optimism, facts converting desire into possibility, then faith is the third leg of the stool. Faith tells me that I’m not alone. And as my years with Parkinson’s disease have taught me, if any of those legs are missing, I’m gonna fall on my ass. When going to sleep at night, I’m optimistic that I won’t be awoken by a phone ringing with bad news. When the phone does ring, I hope it’s a wrong number. When it’s not and the caller has the worst news imaginable, it’s time for faith to kick in.”
Having experienced my own 3 am phone call a little while ago, and not being someone who ascribes the human act of faith to a deity or structured religious theocracy, my own was called into question. But I wasn’t alone, my family were with me.
Faith is ultimately an act of love.