Sarah

Certainly
certainty
Tastes unmistakable,
like success. 

Doubtless it’s
Accepting the single stripe
on your seventh pregnancy test
The plastic sticks balanced in a row on the sink’s lip,
Without wondering why. 

The certain gather,
sipping clear shots of Jesus’ blood
Strong as the voice of God,
Their faith
full of footnotes, and science experiments and Windows 95 powerpoint presentations. Cause and effect. Trust and obey.
Simple. 

But I’m not so certain
That being faithful
Isn’t more
than just opening
The flap of your tent
Stepping outside to serve tea
to three strangers under a terebinth tree. Welcoming while wondering
at the wildness of their words. 

Maybe
It’s gazing into the
Shimmering mystery of deep velvet night Clouds shrouding the moon
And allowing a gasp of awe
When feeling the murmur of new life
Whispering within your womb. 

Maybe faithfulness
Is making room
For wonder.