Faith

Following an extended stay in Portland, I’m finally back in the RV—which, after another $2,000 in repairs, made the 450-mile trip to north Idaho without mishap.

An originally planned eight-day pit stop turned into three-weeks of grandfathering due to a recent knee injury suffered by my daughter, Kate. With two boys under three and limited mobility after surgery, she needed considerable help around the house, and I was happy to oblige.

It was wonderful to visit my children, grandchildren, and the few friends I was able to sandwich between shifts at Kate’s. But I was glad to hit the road again on July 28—especially because I had company. My youngest daughter, Christine, and her daughter, (my granddaughter), Georgia, Kate’s older son (and my older grandson), Ryker, and Susanne all joined me for a week at one of our favorite summer destinations: “Camp Hatfield” on Lake Pend Oreille.

While the extra time in Portland didn’t lend itself to writing, it did allow me to reflect on the first leg of my journey. Favorite places: Bryce Canyon National Park and Santa Fe. Greatest pleasure: traveling from Denver to Salt Lake with my college roommate and re-connecting with friends in Arizona, Colorado, Utah, and California. Biggest surprise: how quickly I adjusted to traveling light; the only possession I even remotely missed was my reading chair. What I’ll do differently the rest of the way: stay longer in fewer places.

Months before setting out, I was asked, “Is there any place God isn’t?” I’ve yet to find it. Throughout the west, I sensed a deep spirituality and desire for connection. But I also encountered a bit of resistance to the name, “God.” For some, the word inhibits rather than opens a path to the Divine. Others long for language that more effectively captures the encompassing nature of the Infinite Mystery from which we emerged and to which we’ll return. While many fervent believers look to scripture for certainty, other equally earnest seekers shun dogmatic answers to existential questions—embracing a Transcendent Spirit that is evident in countless ways and accessible here and now.

Addressing the wish for assurances about God over tea in her Southeast Portland yard, Pamela Williams-Gifford said calmly, “I don’t need to know.” That, I thought, is the epitome of faith. Further, she added, “I think ‘church’ is anywhere you can be authentic and engaged with others.”

My friend, Jackie, made a similar point during a speculative discussion about the after-life. “It doesn’t really matter!” she said emphatically. “The value of a person’s life is determined not by what they believe but by what they do. All we know for sure is that we’re here now—and you should live a life of integrity that has a positive impact on your family, your community, and the planet.”

Faith takes many forms. Who’s to say that one person’s notion of God is more accurate than another’s? The most effective witness, as Jackie stresses, is through our daily lives. In that light, a focus on what we do know can be a bridge between people for whom doctrine might otherwise stand in the way. Aspiring to a noble life and keeping both our hearts and minds open to what we don’t know certainly can’t hurt.

RV parking instructions at Camp Hatfield--straight from the top!

(Sandpoint, ID)