Faith is a leap off a high mountain when I’m scared of heights. It goes against every rational, fear-loving bone in my body. It is like saying (and I realize this probably sounds stupidly obvious): “I believe in you, God!” Kind of shouting it, as you let yourself fall, whistling in the wind off the top of that high, high cliff. It feels positively insane and pointless. And destined, by the very laws of nature that are God’s own, for failure. That is what faith feels like.

And I feel like I’m the only insane one, me by myself, me on my own. That others think you should scrape up the bits, and eat the leftovers and the stones. And to me if that’s life, then there’s no point. It may be human, fallible insanity, but well, then, that’s who I am, and pleased to meet you: Human. Fallible. Insane. That’s all I’ve got, really.


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