Elusive faith

Last fall my mom and I went on a weekend retreat at a camp. It was right around two months after Eli died. I did a lot of things in those early months that probably didn't make the most sense, but I felt crazy and also had been incredibly homesick in NC all those months. I was trying to do or find anything that might make me feel even the slightest bit normal.
The retreat was great. It was a small group of women and it was laid back. No pressure to be or do anything. I am going back this year. That kind of relaxation for your soul does not exist in regular life.
My mom and I went for a walk down to the lake the first evening around dusk. It was about a five minute walk. Towards the end with 200 yards or so left of the trail, straight ahead we saw a deer hop across the path. Except we did not see the entire deer. We were talking and not focused so far ahead. My mom saw movement and recognizing it as a deer, yelled. I looked up to see the hind quarter or so of the deer bounce into the woods.
The rest of the weekend we wanted to see more deer. We took walks at different times of the day and tried to be quiet in the woods. We only ever saw hoof prints in the sandy path.
On Sunday morning we decided it had been a great weekend, but we were done. We were just emotionally exhausted and ready to go. So we skipped out after breakfast. But between packing the car and leaving, we decided to find some deer. We were determined. We walked all over creation. Literally. And everywhere we walked we saw fresh deer tracks. No deer. The tracks crisscrossed the path so much we were absolutely certain we were dealing with a number of deer. And they were fresh! The deer had *JUST* been there. And there. And there. And there, there, and there. We never saw them.
It struck me as we finally gave up and headed home, this is so much like faith. I wanted to see the deer so badly, but all I got was evidence of the deer. The same way we want proof of our faith, but all we get is little bits of evidence that spur us on to keep searching.
My faith is as elusive as the deer that weekend. In the very best moments I get a blurry flash of what faith really is. It's gone almost before I can focus on it. Most of the time I'm looking for it and all I get is little morsels that tell me faith is near, it was just here.
It was just here, it can't be far.