I’ve been thinking about faith lately.
What exactly does it mean, especially in this historical moment when suffering feels so widespread—from the devastation in Gaza, to the inhumanity of immigration detention centers, to communities silenced for daring to criticize their government, to living rooms where expressing a political belief can fracture relationships beyond repair?
After much reflection, I’ve come to the belief that faith is not just helpful—it’s essential. It’s the steady force that allows us to move through both personal and collective hardship, especially when solutions feel out of reach and the path forward remains uncertain.
I know that may not be the answer many of us want right now.
We want a plan, a strategy, a toolkit, something concrete to turn vision into reality. I know because I’ve been there.
I don’t have all the answers, but let me share why clarity might not be the key to progress, what faith really asks of us, and why waiting for perfect understanding could keep us from moving forward.
What if clarity isn’t the key?
The pursuit of clarity is seductive.
Clarity promises certainty, direction, a step-by-step roadmap to wherever you’re trying to go. We crave it because it feels safe, like a blueprint for a future we can control. We tell ourselves: If I just had the map . . . if only I could see what’s next . . everything would fall into place.
But what if clarity isn’t what moves us forward?
What if it’s a mirage—something we convince ourselves we need before we act, when it’s actually delaying our growth? We often believe we can’t move until everything is figured out, until the path is crystal clear. So we wait. For the fog to lift, for the perfect moment, for all the answers.
But that moment rarely comes.
At least not in the way we expect.
What does faith really ask of us?
This is where faith comes in. But not as passive hope or blind optimism. Faith, in its fullest sense, is tied to presence.
It’s about grounding ourselves in the now, because the present moment is all we ever truly have. Faith is stepping into this moment, fully, and embracing uncertainty not as a threat but as the fertile ground where life unfolds.
Too often, faith is treated like an afterthought—intangible, unmeasurable—and feels far less satisfying than clarity or strategy. It doesn’t provide guarantees. It doesn’t whisper, This is the way. Follow it precisely.
Instead, faith says:
Walk into the storm. You have everything you need to survive.
Faith is what sustains us when certainty eludes us, when the road ahead is shrouded in fog, when the stakes feel unbearably high. It’s the courage to take a step in the dark, even when you can’t see where your foot will land. It’s trusting the direction you’re heading and the strength within you is all you need to meet whatever comes next.
This journey is not always easy. Growth often feels difficult and frustrating. The path forward can be steep, filled with setbacks and uncertainty. But it is precisely through this struggle that we develop resilience and deepen our faith.
The discomfort is part of the process, not a sign that we should stop.
And here’s the hard truth.
Waiting for certainty or the easy path can paralyze you.
How often have you told yourself, I’ll move forward once I figure everything out?
The problem is, you rarely figure everything out before you begin.
So, are you waiting or living?
We spend so much time waiting for everything to make sense.
But clarity is something you gain through action, not before it. The first step might not deliver immediate understanding, but it creates momentum. And that momentum reveals the next step.
The path doesn’t always unfold in front of you. But if you don’t begin, the path may never reveal itself at all.
Faith demands trust in the process. It requires you to take steps even when you can’t see the road. It asks you to believe that, eventually, the course will correct, the right doors will open, the insight you’ve been seeking will emerge.
Without faith, we get stuck in the limbo of waiting. We convince ourselves that certainty will make us ready. But it’s faith—not clarity—that helps us stay the course when things inevitably get messy. When the road isn’t smooth. When obstacles arise. When nothing fits neatly into the box we hoped for.
Faith is what makes you resilient.
It’s the quiet conviction that even in the uncertainty, even in the storm, something meaningful lies on the other side.
True power doesn’t come from having all the answers or perfect clarity. It comes from fully inhabiting the present and releasing resistance to what is. This surrender isn’t resignation—it’s active engagement with life’s unfolding.
When you combine faith with deep presence, you free yourself from the prison of endless mental planning and future anxiety.
You let go of the ruminations. You stop waiting for everything to be figured out. You start living for today.
So stop waiting for certainty.
Embrace uncertainty. Embrace the bumpy road. Embrace the power of now.
Trust that faith will guide you to where you need to go.
Because in the end, it’s not clarity that moves us.
It’s faith.
In solidarity,
P.S. As always, thank you for reading this edition of Freedom Papers. If you found this piece meaningful, share it with a friend. If it moved you, consider supporting with a paid subscription or buying me a coffee. This creative exploration happens because readers like you believe words and stories matter.
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Certainty is the comfort food of the ego—tastes good, goes down easy, but leaves your soul bloated and spiritually constipated.
Faith, on the other hand, is like fasting in the desert: disorienting, uncomfortable, occasionally hallucinatory—and somehow exactly what you needed.
Thank you for reminding us that clarity is not a prerequisite for movement. Sometimes the map doesn't show up until you've already lost cell service, tossed the compass, and followed the whisper that says, "Just walk."
I’ve met too many seekers still parked at the starting line, waiting for God to fax them the itinerary. But revelation’s a trickster. She dances just out of view until your foot lands midair—and then, surprise! The bridge appears.
Keep walking, saints and sinners. Grace is a breadcrumb trail, not a GPS.
Well said, Etienne! Thank you. Faith is always about action, engagement, movement.
https://open.substack.com/pub/orangedogdiary?r=av56d&utm_medium=ios