"Lord, I don't know that I can understand this, I can't explain it all, but I'm choosing to believe in you."
This is a statement made by Sheila Schuller Coleman, daughter of Robert Schuller, founder of California's Crystal Cathedral, to explain what happened when she decided in college to stop questioning her faith.
When she made the decision to believe, she said, that's when "everything fell into place."
Can you recall a time when you've questioned something, perhaps your own faith? What happened? Tell us your story.
It happened right after my then-husband told me he'd been living this secret life, had been cheating our marriage, had abused our wedding vows. He hadn't been acting in a cherishable way. He told me many things that I did not understand or want to believe.
I felt dumbfounded.
Not this man. Not my man. He was the happy-go-lucky guy. Nothing ever bothered him. He never got upset. How on earth could this be a guy who would abuse the relationship he had with his wife? This was not a man I thought would do something to hurt his family. He would not lie. He would not cheat. he would not steal.
This was not a man who would behave in such a distasteful way. He just wasn't.
Yet, he'd said he was. He said he'd done terrible things, the least of which was cheating on me with women. He'd even been with men.
I didn't want to believe it.
So for the next several months I worked hard at believing the reason he'd told me all of this terrible news was that he wanted it to stop.
I decided to trust in him.
But he wasn't being honest. He was, instead, being deceitful. I soon found myself not questioning him, but questioning myself. I kept telling myself that he had told me his story so that we could work things out. He wanted to free himself of the pain he was suffering. I kept telling myself that he was in such a vulnerable place that he did need time away. That's why he moved out, I rationalized for him. I kept telling myself that he was going to come back. I kept telling myself that I wanted him back.
But I didn't.
I knew better. I knew deep down that the we I thought we were was over.
But what I wanted, what I needed, was for him to be honest with me, so that I could stop pretending that all was going to be well. But he wouldn't come clean any further. It was as though he'd said more than he'd meant to, and now he wanted to pretend that he hadn't.
Finally, the day came that I took a leap of faith to trust--in me again. It took a lot of praying, but I finally reached that day.
I invited him to breakfast to call him on something he'd said. And things happened just as I expected. While he ordered his bacon and eggs, I simply ordered coffee. When the waitress left our table, I asked him the question I needed to ask. When he hemmed and hawed, couldn't be honest even then, when he couldn't--or wouldn't--tell me what I suspected he really wanted, I decided to speak up for myself. But I didn't need words.
I dropped a few dollars on the table, excused myself, got up, and walked out the door.
When I made that decision, I let go of whatever fear I felt beforehand. Fear disappeared, and I was able to walk away with my head held high.
I could let him live his lie, but I knew--I realized--I didn't have to live it, too.
I walked away, and I never looked back.
That's the story of my leap of faith.