Faith isn’t believing in the visible. Faith is the muscle in your throat that relaxes instead of clenches. It’s the surrender to the unknown. It’s the trust that on the other side of that crumbling wall—behind the rough hands and the muffled groan of a stranger—there is still a human being begging to be accepted without judgment.
There’s a hole in the wall. Chest-high. Patched with duct tape and graffiti. On my side, I’m just knees on cold concrete. I can’t see his face. I don’t know his name, his sins, or if he voted the same way I did. I know nothing. gloryhole swallow faith
That’s where the faith comes in.
This isn't about the act. It’s about the . Faith isn’t believing in the visible
You think faith is only found in stained glass and hymnals? Let me tell you where I found mine. It’s the trust that on the other side