Have Faith Have Faith

Everyone has those memories from their childhood so near and dear to their hearts that when that "trigger" happens - a little snippet which takes you back in time - a tear will fall.

That's what happens to me when I hear hymns such as "Amazing Grace", "Little Church In The Wildwood", or "The Old Rugged Cross".

You see, my grandmother used to play those songs regularly on her piano or organ.

She and my grandfather had purchased a home in town next door to ours, and you could hear the melodic tunes wafting through the open window of her home as the curtains softly moved up and down in the breeze, seemingly in time to the music coming from her loving hands.

I miss those days.

And each time I hear one of those songs or one of the many others she would play - a tear will fall. Or maybe, more than one.

I miss her.

I miss the spiced apples, the homemade meals - all made with her loving hands.

I miss making glue for our projects at the farm. I miss her advice. I miss her stories, her wisdom, her love and her faith.

My grandmother was one of the best and most faithful Christians I ever knew. She had quit attending "church" in her later years, but she was never far from her faith.

She read her Bible regularly and - she played those songs about a place so beautiful and a Father so loving. Her sweet voice would go through each and every verse - verses that are lovingly seared into my memory. But it was her faith that amazed me more than anything.

I remember several years ago I was in a church  and they were asking for requests. I requested "Little Church In The Wildwood". I ended up shaking my head with a smile when the young man appeared confused about my choice.

You see, these aren't the popular songs of today.

But to me, they are the ones that tell the story better than any of the others.

They are from a time when church was more important. It was a regular part of people's lives. When they had more faith.

When I was a child, my parents tookd us to church regularly and afterwards we would go to Sunday dinner at a nice restaurant, or better yet, have a nice homemade Sunday dinner at home. Together. As a family. Not each in our own rooms, on our cellphones or planted in front of the television. We were around the table - together as one.

Today, there aren't as many who have this ritual as a part of their weekly schedules.

We are all so very busy.

I know I don't make it to church as often as I would like. But I do try.

One Sunday, I had one of those "ah ha" moments when the minister looked right at me during his sermon. You know the ones - when you think they are talking directly to you.  In the middle of his sermon, he said, "have faith." Have faith." His eyes locked with mine for a moment and I wondered - how does he know I've been struggling with my faith?

The answer? He didn't. But God does.

There are days when I wonder if God has grown tired of listening or perhaps has given up on me. And then something happens and I know that simply isn't true.

Each and every time I have had a boulder in my path, I may not have been given a jackhammer to get through, but get through I did. And all I needed was a little faith.

God doesn't put those trials and tribulations in front of us to trip us up. In fact, I would venture to say he doesn't put them in front of us at all. But he does give us the tools to get through.

This country is hurting. Many would have us forget our faith. They don't believe and that's okay - it's their choice. But, for me,  I choose to believe. I choose faith.