On FAITH – Read: Ephesians 2:8-9, Corinthians 5:7, psalm119:30, Romans 10:17
Lyrics
In the steps I cannot see, I will walk by faith alone,
Not by sight but by a whisper that leads me on.
It’s not in the doing, it’s not in the seeing, it’s the grace that draws me near,
In this first gentle meeting, faith is born and casts out fear.So I lean into the silence, where your words become my song,
Not by reason, not by senses, but by trusting all along.
Like a slow and tender ballad under quiet moonlit skies,
This is our primera cita, where unseen hope will rise.I’ve chosen the way of truth, laid Your judgments at my feet,
Not by the wisdom of my mind, but by the faith that makes me complete.
It’s a path not of my making, it’s a gift I can’t define,
In this meeting of the spirit, I let go of what is mine.So I lean into the silence, where your words become my song,
Not by reason, not by senses, but by trusting all along. Like a slow and tender ballad under quiet moonlit skies,
This is our primera cita, where unseen hope will rise.Faith comes not by what I see, but by the word I’ve heard,
In the quiet of this meeting, I am resting in Your word.
Not by striving, not by earning, but by leaning on Your grace,
In this tender conversation, I have found my resting place.So I lean into the silence, where your words become my song,
Not by reason, not by senses, but by trusting all along.
Like a slow and tender ballad under quiet moonlit skies,
This is our primera cita, where unseen hope will rise.
Verses
For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:
Ephesians 2:8–9
Not of works, lest any man should boast.
For we walk by faith, not by sight.
Corinthians 5:7
I have chosen the way of truth: thy judgments have I laid before me.
Psalm 119:30
So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
Romans 10:17
Reflections on Faith: Faith Beyond Doing, Seeing, and Hearing
Faith, in the biblical sense, is not an achievement. It is not the final result of discipline, effort, or moral excellence. This truth stands in clear contrast to the dominant mindset of our time, especially within productivity-driven and performance-oriented cultures. Scripture confronts this worldview directly, beginning with one of the clearest statements on faith and salvation:
For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:
Not of works, lest any man should boast.
Here, faith is presented not as something we produce, but as something we receive. Salvation does not originate in our effort, intelligence, or moral capacity. It does not flow from our “doing.” It comes from grace. This radically humbling message dismantles the idea that we can earn our way into wholeness or divine approval. Faith is not a spiritual currency we accumulate; it is a gift that interrupts our logic of merit.
In many modern systems, value is measured by output. We are trained to think that if we do enough, produce enough, or improve enough, we will be “saved” — if not spiritually, at least existentially. But Ephesians insists that grace precedes action. Faith does not reward effort; it replaces self-reliance with trust. The human instinct to boast is removed at the root. There is nothing to claim as ours.
This displacement of control becomes even clearer when Scripture moves from how we are saved to how we walk.
For we walk by faith, not by sight.
This verse pushes faith beyond belief into movement. To walk by faith means to advance without visual confirmation, without proof mapped out in advance. It is not simply believing certain truths; it is orienting one’s life according to what cannot be seen. Sight represents what is measurable, predictable, and verifiable. Faith, instead, calls us to follow something sensed rather than seen.
In a way, this echoes a deep biblical tension: the repeated warning against relying fully on human understanding. Several Psalms and wisdom writings caution against placing ultimate trust in our own intelligence. The idea is not that reason is evil, but that it is insufficient. When faith replaces sight, it does not merely override logic — it calls us to put aside even our sense of personal certainty.
Walking by faith means we do not go where evidence leads first. We go where trust leads. And this can feel like surrendering not only our plans, but our very identity. We often define ourselves by what we know, what we understand, and what we can control. Faith invites us to loosen our grip on all of that.
This inward posture becomes explicit in Psalm 119:
I have chosen the way of truth: thy judgments have I laid before me.
Here, faith is described as a choice — but not a self-asserting one. The psalmist chooses not autonomy, but submission. Placing God’s judgments “before me” suggests allowing divine truth to stand as the reference point, the standard against which everything else is measured.
This is especially striking because it reveals faith as an active yielding. It is not passivity, but deliberate alignment. The psalmist does not say, “I have found the truth,” but “I have chosen the way of truth.” Faith, then, is less about possession and more about direction. It is a daily orientation toward something greater than the self.
When we connect this with earlier reflections, we see a progression: salvation is not earned; walking is not guided by sight; truth is not defined by the self. Each step moves us further away from self-centered frameworks and toward dependence on God.
All of this leads naturally to one of the most concise and powerful statements about the source of faith itself:
So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
Faith does not come from introspection, visualization, or reasoning alone. It comes from listening. This is crucial. Faith is born not from looking inward or outward, but from receiving something spoken. The act of hearing implies relationship. It implies presence, attention, and openness.
In contrast to sight — which we often control — hearing requires stillness. One must stop speaking, stop calculating, stop asserting, in order to listen. Faith grows not through domination of knowledge, but through receptivity to God’s word. It is formed through repeated exposure, through attentiveness, through allowing truth to enter rather than be constructed.
Taken together, these passages trace a coherent spiritual arc. Faith begins as a gift of grace, not a human accomplishment. It shapes a walk that is guided by trust rather than visibility. It invites a conscious choice to submit personal judgment to divine truth. And it is sustained through hearing — a posture of listening rather than striving.
In the end, faith is not about doing more, seeing more, or knowing more. It is about trusting more. Trusting grace over effort. Trusting God over self. Trusting His word over our instincts. And in that trust, something profound happens: we are freed from the exhausting task of saving ourselves.
Faith does not ask us to become stronger.
It asks us to become receptive.