Faith.

Every year, a word picks me.  I don't plan it or search for it or take it from some well made list.  Instead, I listen.  I wait.  I listen some more.  And sometime near the end of the year, a word appears.

This year, the word is faith.  I'm not a big believer in the traditional way, so the word seemed an odd one to come to me.  I've wrote several blogs on how faith has followed me this year, here, here and here.

But this week, it seems, the word has settled in me.  Softly.

No big revealing discovery or major turning point has come to me.  I can't say, "See! I had faith and because I had faith, I'm saved."  Because I don't need saving.  I'm fine.  Sure, I've had my ups and downs just like you but nothing that needed me to grasp for faith.  

But, maybe, that is the essence of faith.

A soft, settled sense of life.  Daily living breath by breath.  Doing what I do as it needs doing.  Waking and walking and working and stretching and sleeping until waking again.  Knowing that even though many things are unknown to me, I'm still here. 

Faith isn't a thing or an action, it is being.