Swimming Towards Things Unseen

Harper was confirmed in our church last night, and I wrote a little something to introduce her (because of course I did).

Here are some things to tell you about Harper: She is an artist. She is a reader. She is a collector – of colored pencils, of scraps of paper, of rocks with the names of places she’s been. Harper is a noticer. She has an eye for the small, seemingly unnoticeable things, and she can direct others’ attention to them with the urgency equivalent to that of a quarterback at a Michigan (or Notre Dame) football game. 

She’s the only one I know who can find four leaf clovers, and in fact, I didn’t think they existed until Harper came along to teach me about having faith in things unseen. She points out hearts from the cracks and crevices of sidewalks, or in piles of legos, or in leaves on the lawn. I think her ability – or willingness – to notice is a gift, but so is her ability – or willingness – to create something from what it is she notices, and share it with the world.

Harper is a swimmer, she plays the French Horn, she’s taking Latin, and she is a walking encyclopedia for all things Harry Potter. I’m going to tell you she’s a dancer and she will want to say, “Not for long,” but here she is about to tell all of you that she’s willing to attend to the stories of Eve and David, of Esther and Judas, of Mary Magdalene and Jesus, and I think what she is and what she was; what she loves, what she doubts, and what she’s deciding has something to do with this promise and these stories.

Because Harper will stop dancing – for a while or forever – to pursue swimming. She does not know what the outcome will be. She knows that she  loves it, and she knows she is willing to try, and I think that is a lot like what faith is like. You won’t know precisely what was said between the snake and Eve. You may feel inspired at David’s courage and faith and then equally appalled by his malicious arrogance and privilege. You live in a world where women of a certain profession are looked upon as no good, but you will learn how grace disturbs who we think others are and what it is they can do – hopefully that grace will disturb us, too.

Like the decisions you make and you will make, faith is moving toward and attending to a mystery – one you love, one that scares you, one that is hard to wade in, but you know all about diving in, and so it is our prayer that no matter the outcome, you feel God’s presence in the strokes and the kicks as you push yourself through the water. We hope with every inhale and exhale that help propel you towards things unseen, you know you are wonderfully and fearfully made.