Faith, Hope and ... Reality

My good friend is praying for a miracle. He's stuck right now. There doesn't seem to be an obvious way forward. Every door seems to lead back to the same room.

We were talking about it the other day, and after he shared what was happening, I found myself doing what many of us do; offer practical advice. Call this person. Try this option. Maybe there's another route.

He listened patiently and then, casually, said, "I'm praying for a miracle." That was the end of the conversation, but it wasn't the end of mine.

It struck me that I hadn't really been talking to my friend. I had been listening to an argument, but this argument was not between the two of us but between faith and practicality. Hope was there too.

Practicality had a convincing case. Look at the facts. Count the money, read the forecast, work with what you know, which of course is a wise thing to do, right? Most of life falls apart because people ignore reality.

Ha! Then faith spoke. It looked at the very same facts as practicality, but reached a different conclusion. This wasn't because the facts weren't true, but because they weren't the whole story.

That was a light bulb moment.  If everyone had only ever been practical, I wonder how many things would never have happened. Someone planted the first vineyard before they knew it would grow, be fermented and turned into a drink I love. Someone started a business before there were customers. Someone asked a difficult question before they knew anyone would listen. Marriages and relationships begin without guarantees. Every child enters a future no parent can predict. None of those decisions came with certainty.

We admire people who take leaps of faith, but only after the leap works. Before that, we usually call them unrealistic. Faith does not pretend or assume reality doesn't exist. Faith simply refuses to believe that today's reality is the final word.

And hope?

Hope is the quietest of the three. Hope doesn't argue with the facts. It leaves a small window open for surprise. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe the rains will come. Maybe this isn't where the story ends.

Of course, practicality deserves its place. Someone still has to count the seed before planting, budget for the journey, remember to put enough fuel. Faith without action becomes wishful thinking. Practicality without hope becomes resignation. Hope without either is like ... well... a couch potato.

The mistake I made is making faith, hope and practicality compete, when they were never meant to. We can look at them as travelling companions. One reminds us to look at the road. One reminds us that roads sometimes bend in unexpected ways. And one gives us the courage to take the next step anyway.

I still don't know whether my friend will get his miracle. I hope he does. I left that conversation realising that sometimes the most practical thing you can do is make the phone call, and after you've made every phone call you can think of...

...you pray for a miracle.

From where my feet are, wisdom is learning when to do both.