I believe in God, at its most basic

A copy of the Nicene Creed hangs on the wall above my bed. I've hung it in whatever room I've lived in away from home ever since I read somewhere during my junior year of college the quote by St. Augustine: "Let the Creed be like a mirror for you. Look at yourself in it to see whether you really believe all that you claim to believe. And rejoice everyday in your faith."

Lately I've been overwhelmed with my future and with my present, with all I actually have to do, with all I think I have to do. My soul and spirit have been tired, and I've been tired as a person overall, yearning for rest, wondering if answers will ever come. I feel like I've been looking at a lot of trees and not understanding they're a forest, but also looking at a forest and not understanding it's a lot of trees. My life feels reduced to a checklist. There's always more.

The other day while I was praying and thinking about all of this, I turned around while sitting in my bed to read the Creed, after realizing I hadn't read it on my own time in a while. "I believe in one God," I read.

I had to stop there -- the first two words struck me, seemed to jump out at me and rap their knuckles on my head and heart. "I believe." I'd forgotten that.

Then, farther, deeper: "I believe in one God." I'd forgotten what that meant, too.

I believe in the God of the universe. He is with me. He is faithful. He is working for me. He is autonomous without me, he chooses me. Saying I believe in him means putting my belief, my trust, my hope in him. It means having the security of him. All that he is. Oh, how he loves me.

Next, "I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ." Later, "I believe in the Holy Spirit." It's an active placement of our faith, our trust, our hope in God. It's remembering who God says he is and giving him credit for who he is, not underestimating him, knowing he will come through, knowing that he is and knowing that is enough.

In being caught up in believing, in knowing I believe, in the day-to-day living of things and thinking about all the other elements of faith and life, in trying to find deeper truths and meaning, I forgot the most basic: I believe in God. It's not me, it's him. It's him with me, me with him. The temptation is always to focus on me, but it's him we fix our eyes on, him we believe in.