The concept of faith has long been a pillar of my Catholic Latino family, even those with less-than-stellar records of conduct are possessed of an unwavering faith in God. Even if they don't necessarily hold the Church in the highest esteem. That's neither here nor there, however, nor is this a conversation about the existence or nature of God. Simply about faith.

I have the utmost respect and a sliver of envy for people who have a capacity for faith. By no means do I mean to insinuate that faith provides infallible insulation from doubt or hardship, but it must be wonderful to have a sense that you have someone/something to fall back on. A port in the veritable storm of life, if you will.

I've struggled with this idea of faith my entire life, to the point where I had a crisis of faith in the midst of a severe bout of clinical depression. I turned to the Bible, the Quran, the Torah, and Buddhism, desperately searching for some modicum of a spiritual bulwark against an encroaching entropy. I found the words poignant and many lessons beautiful, but I did not find fulfillment and I did not find certainty.

"Certainty" however, seems to be the operative word, the root of my malaise. I've heard it said that the opposite of faith is not, in fact, doubt but "certainty". Faith requires trust and a relinquishing of control.

All of which are borderline anathema to me.

I hardly trust my neighbor, much less an absent or at worse, historically capricious force.

I'm a control freak and I have as many elements of my life as I can juggle neatly in a vice-grip. Elements which will have to be torn out of my hand well after rigor mortis sets in.

The prospect of faith brings with it some terrifying possibilities:

Say I put my faith in whatever power, what is my guarantee?

Maybe said force decides to demonstrate some arbitrary authority in denying me something or attempts to teach me some "lesson" through needless hardship.

Maybe I settle for a permutation of Pascal's Wager and profess faith our of fear or self-interest.

The closest experience I've ever had to any sense of faith is when, despite ridiculous odds and poor timing on my part, my LASIK surgery went through. My family, of course, was overjoyed and attributed the situation through divine intervention. Inspired by the sheer odds of the situation, I proceeded to pray that evening, one of the few times I've ever done so in my entire life.

Thus I prayed and felt nothing. I tried again the next evening and still nothing.

As my need for faith wanes and my self-efficacy increases, I find myself re-asserting the following:

I have faith in me, and my pathological obstinance in weathering whatever life throws at me.