THERE’S that joke about the guy who was stranded at sea. A passing boat comes to save him and he declines the help of three rescue attempts, saying: “God will rescue me.”

He dies. At the doors of heaven, he says: “Have I not been a loyal servant to you all my life? Why did you not save me lord?”

The reply: “I sent a passing boat, the coastguard and a helicopter. What more could you have wanted?”

I’ve known that joke for ages but it has never had meaning to me so much as it does now.

This past year, I have been attempting to actively seek a faith I think I once had, but for many years lost sight or sense of.

In my search, I’m learning many things.

On attending church: that being a doubter among the faithful can feel lonely; is it easier to stay away? Through conversation and connection: that maybe it’s ok to feel that way; it’s not meant to all make perfect sense.

When I started out, I think I wanted God to jump out on me and declare himself: I felt a desperation to believe with a certainty that I see others do. But that hasn’t happened.

I am trying, yet often I feel I haven’t found God, that I “can’t” quite believe in him. This disappoints me, constantly, but I haven’t given up.

In part, I am recognising that faith is not certainty.

If I ask myself, where might I have seen God at work today, or in the last few weeks or months?

Then, then, I can find many possible answers; asking that question often reframes my thinking on events in a different way.

This reframing, often presenting itself as a deep sense of gratitude, of appreciation, and a feeling of love’s presence, has led me to ask how many of us are looking for something different, something better, something “final” and we don’t realise that maybe what we’re looking for was right there all along?

Sometimes I wonder if actually I’ve already found this faith I am so desperately seeking, that I’m already finding it, that it’s already here for me. In warmth, in kindness, in conversations, in new - and old - connections, in tears, in questions. In it all.

I saw a painting the other day. At the top, there were two boats; beneath was the water with a reflection of the boats - and also a reflection of buildings, although they did not appear at the top of the painting.

Lots of art features reflections, but usually the subject is being reflected. The reflection of what wasn’t there made me think: what else might we not see that is there?

So I think about that joke, and about how much we might be missing unless we stop to ask: where did I see God at work in my day today? The answer might be everywhere.

Kathryn Seller

Crediton Congregational Church