Mama, what does my faith look like?

I was editing a devotional this morning, and I put a comma in between a 2 and a 0 for the number 2,000. An appropriate place for the comma, as long as you’re not in one of the following countries:

In each of those countries, a comma is used as a decimal. So 2,000 in one of those countries would actually read as 2, as in 2.000.

In the Christian faith, we are clear that believing in Jesus leads to heaven. What we’re not entirely clear on is how that looks. There are a lot of opinions on how that should look. And recently, my daughter said to me: Mama, my faith isn’t like yours. I asked her what she meant. She said she doesn’t pray like me or read the Bible like me. I told her that was okay, that everyone’s faith looks different.

Then she asked, “Mama, what does my faith look like?”

I don’t remember my answer, so I’m sorry if that’s what you came to this blog for. ;) But what I do know is this: it’s okay that her faith looks different from mine. She is she and I am me. Sounds a little Seuss-y, but it’s true. I teach her when and how to pray, but the fact of the matter is, the girl prefers the close-ended Catholic/Episcopalian dinner prayer over the open-ended Protestant one every day of the week. And I won’t correct her on her prayer because I won’t correct her on her relationship with God. It’s hers, not mine.

In my experience, we all get caught up in making sure our faith and our lives and our relationships look a certain way, like we think they’re supposed to look. And while it’s true that there are baseline standards for faith, relationships, parenting, finances, etc., we’re all going to look a little different as we walk our paths. And that’s got to be okay with us if we want any sort of sanity, any sort of peace, any sort of grace flooding this earth.

This is an Election year, and nobody throws barbs like the ones who believe there is only one right way. But in this case, there can’t be. There just can’t be.