Just gotta have it. There’s no way to get through this life without it. I see all kinds of people everyday. So many of them have replaced faith—you know, Faith—with money or drugs. But wow do these “Earthly” things wear off at the worst possible moments. Your happiness depends on something that man can take away? Ooo-boy. That’s pretty risky right there.
Now I’m not a religious fanatic (okay, maybe I am in my own way) wearing blinders through life. I’m also not comfortably cushioned from sharp realities like unpaid medical bills, or late fees. I don’t live in grant-supported wonderland; I live in the real world and I believe, kinda like my friend Sha quoted recently, that life isn’t living without gritty realities.
“Faith is not a leap to make. Faith is the path you take.” Miriam Sunchild, a New Testament Christian speaker and writer, says that. She means that you don’t grab hold of Faith when you need to leap a chasm. You walk with Faith, on the impassioned path, every single day. And when you do, those chasms that open up, gaping and ugly in all our real lives, will be noticed with a mere glance as we cross over, barely breaking our strike, using the sturdy bridge that Faith has made us.
My friends Jennifer and Cris have a daughter named Faith. Jennifer likes to tease that Faith was named after a certain vampire slayer but Cris just rolls her eyes. Both moms are New Testament Christians and pretty darn kickin’ cool. Faith, however, is a strong-willed, wild, jump-off-the-back-of-the-couch, loving, crazy beast. She also has Type 1 diabetes. That’s the type that doesn’t come from primarily being under-active or overweight; doctors have no idea where it comes from. It just kills the pancreas and laughs. It strikes mostly children. Faith wasn’t even two years old.
Now this means that Faith lives with nine blood checks and seven shots a day. Every day. No exceptions. Her parents keep tight control on her condition and, at almost six years old, she has absolutely no complications or side-effects and she has never been hospitalized. However, in the beginning, the diagnosis was slow coming. And other things, like Cooms (a blood incompatibility with her biological mom, Jennifer) had her in and out of the hospital, under special lights, on IVs, etc. At one point, so fed up with IV tubes and boards to keep her arm straight, Faith whacked one of the nurses over the head and broke the little board right in half. Cris still have that board in her hope chest.
Okay... maybe Faith *was* named after the vampire slayer ;)
In the beginning, when her moms were at their wits’ and their hearts’ end, when tears and prayers didn’t seem to be getting them anywhere, a family member sent them a letter. The letter said simply, “You named her Faith. There must have been a reason. She *will* pull through. You just have to look to Faith.”
Are you looking to Faith or man for your answers? Don’t want to talk to me about Christ? Fine. Cool. “Whatev,” as Brianne might say. I’m over it, okay? But what about Faith? Are you plunging ahead to make every decision that will kill or save you? Or are you asking someone? Are you asking Faith? Are you walking your path with your mortal, flawed body, or are you walking—running, flying—with your eternal body?
People say, “Follow your heart.” I’m asking you to follow your Faith. Faith outlives even the heart.
In Fellowship,
E.J.
