Once you’ve been denied the dignity of sleep, it takes some degree of faith to trudge outward and onward in the darkness.
Faith on such mornings takes several forms; faith that there won’t be as much junk to pick up, faith that slobs will right their wrong ways, faith that our world will become cleaner and environmentally sensitive. (Good thing I don’t hold my breath for those to become true. My respiratory powers aren’t that lasting.)
I wrestle, too, with larger issues of faith in the traditional sense. My silent, one-sided conversations with the Almighty on my walks tend to dwell on why do we do this to ourselves? or how is it that we defile your good earth? My epithets/curses likely only serve to add to the ever-growing pile of stuff that will require forgiveness from the higher source.
I’m in no position to request His agreement to a partial swap of faith for cleanliness or love or security or world piece. The best I’ve got is the inherent belief that these beautiful mornings are indeed that simple act of faith that says this is a good and just cause.
I hope He understands. If not, my articles of faith will remain internalized and localized on my path.