Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation.  Hebrews 11:1 

When was the last time you heard something so outrageous that believing it felt almost foolish? God tells us that nothing is impossible for Him because He is God, and there is no other. I believe that easily enough in the abstract. But when the impossible enters my own story, unbelief suddenly becomes much more persuasive.

Humans cannot walk on water, yet Jesus did, and Peter stepped out to join Him. A sea does not divide to make a road, yet Israel walked through on dry ground. A leper does not dip seven times into a muddy river and emerge with new skin, yet Naaman did. And a man dead for three days does not walk out of his tomb. But Jesus did.

Faith does not deny what is humanly impossible. What might I be destined to experience if I left more room for the impossible?

Where has unbelief quietly eaten away at my expectancy? Where have I closed the eyes of my spirit because disappointment taught me not to hope too boldly? What have I accepted as permanently broken because I can imagine no earthly way for it to change? Faith is not demanding that God perform the miracle I prescribe. It is leaving room for Him to be God with my eyes wide open.

The resurrection changed forever what I am permitted to call hopeless. The same God who raised Jesus from the dead is at work in His children. That does not mean every grave I point to will open in the way I ask. It means no grave, no impossibility, and no ending is beyond His authority.

Perhaps some of what I call realism is unbelief that has learned respectable language.

Give me faith that never forgets who You are. Amen.