Or is it unfamiliar because faith is never satisfied with familiar ground, because it fades too quickly to rote memories of faith rather than the red-blooded variety?
And if faith requires movement into unknown territories, how do you ever know if you are right?
Is right even possible?
Is it about being right?
Or is it about being alive?
That nudge out of the nest seems cruel . . . until you find your wings.
So, enter with me into this unknown day, oh Holy One, and help me to find you within it.
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