“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. That is what the ancients were commended for.” (Hebrews 11:1–2)
What do you hope for? What are your dreams? What do you long to see?
If you have trouble answering such questions, maybe you don’t dare dream. After all, what value is there in being certain of things we cannot see? Who is more certain of what is not seen than the insane? Yet the ancients were not commended for delusions, but for faith. Is there value in faith?
Maybe you learned the hard way that dreams don’t always come true. The boy who jumps off the roof falls to the ground as quickly as any rock. He doesn’t suddenly fly.
So are dreams any good?
I once jumped off the roof of the neighbor’s house. I don’t recommend it! I don’t remember how old I was. What I do remember, with startling clarity, is that I’d been a lot higher off the ground than I realized. I remember the long scary descent, and landing with a thump in the tall green grass.
I grinned when I realized nothing was broken.
Jumping is dangerous. You might not walk away unharmed.
Doubt doesn’t jump. Doubt doesn’t dream. It has no patience for the invisible. It doesn’t hope or scan the horizon.
Faith is being sure of what we hope for, but doubt is only sure of the here and now. It says you can’t even take that for granted. Doubt cuts you off from those around you, saying they can’t be trusted, not even God.
Is that any way to live? Is that sane?
The ancients were commended for their faith. I can see why. I like the company of people who dream. Their excitement is contagious. They take joy in living. They have fun and bring fun to those around them. I want to be that way too: to have faith, love, hope, dreams. I will take risks—and grin.