Living in the Midwest has been interesting this summer. More articulately, it’s been hot. Record heat, dramatic drought, it’s definitely been trying. And so thank goodness I’m fortunate enough to have an air-conditioned home; even if I keep the thermostat set high. I like the heat, but I do have a limit.
It seems my air conditioner had a limit, too. Somewhere around the fourth consecutive day of 105+ degree temperatures I noticed my home was warmer than usual. It was in the evening and the thermostat thermometer read 79 so I decided to sleep on it and see what the next day brought. (Rookie homeowner mistake.) The next day I was met with unquestionable heat and a thermostat in the 90s. The repairmen were booked for the day, “Oh, honey you should have called last night, you know we book up all our appointments the evening prior.”
I sweated through another balmy night and the next day the repairman arrived, replaced some stuff and voila! cool air was once again blowing through the vents. At this point it was afternoon so my house had been baking in the sun and had no intention of cooling off quickly. Cut to later that evening, the thermostat now reads 87 but surely the house couldn’t still be that warm. I hold my hand up to the air vent and yes that is definitely cool air. I think it’s cool air. It seems cool. Hmm. Well, it’s definitely air moving. I ask my friend who has braved the sauna-house and she confirms it doesn’t feel like 87. But maybe it’s just because it’s so hot outside? Hard to tell, really.
Finally, after the sun set and my house had a fair chance in the fight to cool it, my thermostat returned to its usual temperature and the house felt ‘right’ again. As I settled into bed, comfortable for the first time in several days, I reflected on how strange it was to “feel” something but to “see” something else. My senses were telling me cold air was blowing and that the house was cooling off and yet my brain was processing a numerical figure and trying to make right the dissonance.
Oftentimes with faith we ask to see so that we may believe; “Just give me a sign, God.” But sometimes what we see makes us question what we believe; “How could a loving God do that?” As a perpetual optimist, I’m often slapped with the comment; “You simply see what you want to see.” And as a Catholic who sometimes struggles with the institution; “You only believe what you choose to believe.”
Maybe it’s a classic “both, and” situation. Both the house was hot, and the air was cool. Both my brain, and my senses were ‘right’ in their judgment. Seeing is both believing, and doubting. Just as faith may be both anchoring and releasing.
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