Faith and Certainty
I sat with my feet in the Selkirk Waterway today. The sun warming my back, a breeze flipping my hair away from my face and the soft lapping of the water - the noise of industry and emergency vehicles a distant background hum that did nothing to distract from the peace I felt. Some long needed quiet. A massive blue heron just flew by at eye level, skimming the surface of the water. I shake my head - as I always do - at how something that looks and sounds that awkward doesn't just bump into stuff more or take epic face plants into the water. How, in all it's gangly glory, does it still manage to be so graceful? I needed an afternoon like this. As I sit there, my feet cool and turning prune-y I start thinking about trust. And faith. And certainty. And how all those things have collided so many times in my life. All the time's I've wanted to have faith but also wanted to have certainty. The two just never seemed to be able to co-exist. Then I started to thin