Loosing Faith

What does it mean to have child-like faith?  It is almost incomprehensible to have that kind of dependence.  It is difficult for some to imagine being able to rely on someone, trust, feel certain, know…that you know…that you know…that you can definitely, undoubtedly TRUST anyone these days.

The Hebrew definition of trust is:

'aman aw-man'- to build up or support; to foster as a parent or nurse; be faithful

The Greek is:

pisteuo pist-yoo'-o -to have faith (in, upon, or with respect to, a person or thing), i.e. credit; to entrust (especially one's spiritual well-being to Christ)

When we put our trust in someone, it's like throwing yourself into an imaginary safety net. Will it hold?  It’s hard in this day and age when everything around us is screaming uncertainty.  We can only be certain of a few things on this earth and that is:

Appliances break down…and usually all at once. 

Automobiles fall apart before the last payment is made. 

You will spend half your life waiting in a doctor’s office, that’s why it’s called a “Waiting Room”.  

There will always be taxes. 

I don’t mean to sound so pessimistic.  I’m only forty-eight but as I get older the more realistic I become.  I used to trust almost anyone or anything.  Of course, finding out later that it was a costly mistake.   However, what I have learned is that I can trust Jesus.    

I know that it is difficult to trust what you cannot see.  

It’s easy to become discouraged and lose faith when experiencing a great loss.  Perhaps it is the loss of a loved one, a job, or health.  It is nearly impossible to have faith like a child without the strength of God, when one is constantly in the battlefield of being an adult ALL the time.

One Saturday, while dressing to head out, I had decided to put on a pair of my favorite earrings.  These were no ordinary pair.  As a matter of fact, I was so delighted to find them in the store, I didn't hesitate to purchase them.  These were loop earrings with one of my favorite words at the base of them in large print.  It is a word that I use often in describing my passion for Christ.  I proudly wore them as a simple reminder of what we should be operating in at all times.  If I looked in the mirror, there it was...FAITH.  If in conversation with another...FAITH.  If standing in a long line at a grocery store, others would see FAITH.  It was my way of subliminally injecting FAITH without saying a single word. 

These were no doubt, though only .99 cents, jewelry I treasured.  However, that afternoon as I was leaving the library discovered that one of my earrings was missing.  In a panic, I began checking everywhere backtracking every step.

My daughter was heading towards me and I said to her, "I lost FAITH again".  She chuckled, and begin to search for the earring.  She knew how much it meant to me.  However, we were unsuccessful at finding it.  It seemed hopeless.  Where was my FAITH?

Upon waking in the mornings and sometimes with much doubt, discouraged with battling illness for several years, I would pick up these earrings and see FAITH.  It reminded me to hold fast to FAITH.  

This past year or so has been a ground shaking, earth quaking with tremors and all season for our family and many others we know.  Some have had to experience sudden back or knee surgeries that have taken longer to heal.  Others have had unexpected deaths, illness, or tragedy strike. 

In our case it was one thing after another coming in forms much like a tidal wave sweeping over us without the chance to come up for air.

At first it was a simple toothache.  Left untreated turned into a nightmare!  A prescription drug I was given to clear up infection may have caused the lining of my digestive system to tear open.  I spent several days in and out of hospital and medical test unable to hold in so much as a sip of water.  

I had to stop medication and have that bothersome tooth pulled.  What was supposed to be a simple procedure, turned into a major ordeal with oral surgery and stitches.  In the meantime, I was suffering severe stomach pain, unable to eat. 

It was frustrating going through several months of one medical test after another with no clear answers.  Entering into each test was alarming.  

Words of FAITH had been used much.  It is unsettling when something odd is happening in your body.  We tend to think the worst.  However, you must understand...I had a malignant tumor eleven years ago when my youngest son, Cody was born.  Everything seemed okay until I received the call from M.D. Anderson announcing the dreaded news.  I was terrified!  Here I was with six children, one being only six weeks old.  Was I going to be around to raise them?  Thinking back, I remember asking God to give me at least five more years with my youngest son to raise.  He has given me eleven years and nine months so far.  I don't take lightly the effects of cancer. 

The night before I was to have the oral surgery, I had gotten word that a family member and someone I had become extremely close to in ministry, was in critical condition.  

I will never forget the phone conversation or the day.  It was Sunday afternoon, May 13th.  I remember hanging up the phone and beginning to wail in disbelief, sobbing loud enough for neighbors to hear.  I had just spoken with him a few weeks before.  This was no ordinary uncle, this was my deceased mother's brother. We had a relationship that no one could understand.  

It was a spiritual kind.  Our thoughts, words spoken, and written were similar in many ways. It was as if God had given birth to twins separated by age and generation only.  The prayers to overcome, climb, take risk, and leap with FAITH beyond boundaries came during our years together in Georgia.  

We had suffered a major blow in our relationship at one point.  The very person I loved so much, was also the one who broke my heart, as I did his.  The stubbornness surmounted between us much like two battle ships colliding bows in the rough seas.  It was during that time that FAITH seemed lost. 

It was a period of time when my FAITH, his FAITH, our entire family's FAITH was being tested.  It was a crucifying of our wills.    Shortly after his passing, his daughter, my cousin, was diagnosed with Leukemia.  A young mother of two fighting for her life.  She received a bone marrow transplant, and is recovering.  Yet, still suffering the effects of chemo.

My poor aunt barely widowed had to go through the agony of watching her daughter on the brink and still has yet to have a moment to grieve.  This family has been shaken, yet not apart, it's been moved, but not displaced.  Faith has kept this family glued together.

I saw one of my dearest sisters in Christ, and friend with stage four cancer fight every single day of her life to survive.  She was unlike anyone I had ever known.  She continued to teach the youth and serve her church congregation, and family during the effects of her treatment. How?  Did she walk by FAITH?  Absolutely!  It was painfully obvious to those who knew her on the days that she was not feeling well.  Yet, she continued in her plight to keep going without complaint, never portraying self-pity or bitterness.  

FAITH...she walked in it, FAITH...she talked in it, and by FAITH she smiled through it.  She went home to be with Jesus right before Thanksgiving, and FAITH is what holds her family together now.

There have been times when I felt I had lost my FAITH.   Every time I begin to walk away from the adage that 

"I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me" Ephesians 3:20 

because I start leaning on self, God quickly reminds me that it is not in my own strength, nor will it ever be, to handle life as I know it.  

It may seem that all has failed when nothing makes sense.  Yet, it is behind the curtain that God is working a plan out unlike you or I could ever understand.  

As he says in:

Isaiah 55:8-9

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not My ways.” This is the Lord’s declaration. 9 “For as heaven is higher than earth, so My ways are higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.

God is conducting the play, all he is asking us to do is to act out and walk on stage with FAITH, trembling legs and all. 

He wants us to desperately trust the hands that have created us.  If we could walk in FAITH, there would be no end to what we could accomplish in Christ. 

There would be little discussion of worry, and more action taking place. We would stand up in confidence and boldly go in the leading of the Holy Spirit.  

We would become FAITHFUL servants knowing the one that we are serving is so FAITHFUL to us. 

It may seem simpler to not trust, at least you won't be let down, Right?  However, it is easier walking by FAITH, because you’re spared all those exhausting arguments of “WHAT IF’S?”  

Loosing FAITH for that day, only cost me .99 cents.  But a lifetime would cost me eternity.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. -John 3:16

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Brenda A. Graff
Founder
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SPENCER'S SONG

New Year's Day came with much ado.  Usually, one wakes up groggy from being up late welcoming fireworks at the stroke of midnight, and singing "Auld Lang Syne",  (Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?)  to the theme of shaking off the former years, and starting a new.  

We managed to stay up an hour past midnight and that was a stretch for me, being an early riser. However, there were incredible firework displays New Year's Eve and I was enthralled like a kid.  I had to see each and every sparkle, flare, and bombs bursting in air until the entire atmosphere was clouded with smoke. 

It was difficult to rise and shine early the next day.  Yet, I decided to start a new tradition by taking the family out for breakfast, something we rarely do. I proceeded to get ready, giving out directives to my family to check on pets, making sure they were fed, letting them out, or in since our revolving door is always in motion.  As my husband was peeking into the cage of our new parent finches, he noticed the Papa finch in distress.  Somehow, he had managed to become tangled in the metal clasp of a hanging item.  He was frantically trying to fly out of it, all the while nearly ripping his leg out of socket as it profusely bled.  After a few minutes of trying to untangle the bird without success, my husband ran to his work truck to find a tool to cut the piece off.  

I held the finch in place as to not injure itself further, shouting, “Hurry!” My husband cut the metal piece and loosed the bird from the cage.  Holding the bleeding finch in my hand, I shouted for someone to get me a transportable bird box, towel, and keys.  I was not going to let this bird die!  

Spencer had become a part of our family the moment we brought him home last year.  He had also heart brokenly lost his pregnant mate over the summer.  Yet found love again producing four beautiful babies.  We had a mission of mending this little one!  Our New Year's plans were curtailed.

What Breakfast tradition?   Despite the teens protesting for their meal.  I swear food is the first thing on their mind when they wake!  They make a bee line to the fridge before saying, "Good morning" I could be on fire and the first place they would go to is the fridge before dousing me in water or calling 911! And then they stand in front of it... opening and closing repeatedly, as if something else is going to magically appear.   Is this some kind of upper body work out?

After about the fifth time of shutting the door, they walk away proclaiming there is nothing to eat, despite its appearance of groceries nearly busting through the walls.

They are a never ending eating machine! 

No one was dining until Spencer was fixed!  

Panicked, I quickly looked up places open on New Year's to treat him.  I felt every second mattered.  Deciding the Internet was taking too long, and automated phone calls, grabbed everyone and said, "Let's go!"  We jumped in the truck and headed out on the nearly empty highway driving from one end of our city to the other to no avail.  Being the holidays, most if not all Vets were closed!  And the one’s open didn’t treat birds.  

My daughter was holding the bird in a box. While I was driving, my husband and I were going back and forth on phone calls between emergency vet clinics, and exotic bird specialist.  We were sent on a wild goose chase into another county to once again find ourselves at a closed clinic.  

It was raining, foggy, freezing, and frustrating.  I asked my daughter to check on the little life, to have her open the box just enough for him to accidentally escape.  Spencer was in flight all over our vehicle while I was driving!  Because he was familiar with my voice, he flew right into my hair and perched.  I was going nearly 60 mph dodging raindrops, hung over drivers, and dirt roads with this finch flying in my face like a hummingbird back and forth,  I wasn't sure if he was out for vengeance and going to peck me to death, or trying to get my attention to turn around and go back home.  It was the first time in a while I was scared of something smaller then my thumb!  

"I'm sorry, Alright?"

Eventually, he landed behind the steering column in the dashboard!  

There was nowhere to immediately pull over.  I had to drive nearly ten more miles of winding wet roads before coming to a stop.  The heater had been on high, windows closed, and there was no chance of opening a door for fear the finch would fly away.  

After being pulled over for nearly thirty minutes, the vehicle became like a sauna!  It was hot!  We couldn't open a window, and my precious finch was playing peek-a-boo in the dash.  His face would surface just long enough for us to see him as he darted in and out of the opening, but not long enough to grab him. 

"Catch me, if you can"

We didn't want to injure him any further, so we had to treat the situation gingerly.  I thought we may never get him out.  I started to lose hope in the situation, I had to open the door regardless of the risk.  My daughter and I had to change seats from front to back, I was not cut out to climb over seats in cramped situations. 

I had to make room for my daughter to use her lengthy arms and hands and get this now stubborn bird back in the box.  

"Doctors, I don't like no stinking doctors...
I'm not going anywhere!"

I stood outside in the freezing rain deciding on whether or not to call for back up.  

Uh...Houston we have a problem,
we have a finch MIA.

But who?  I thought, “I have to have a bird to present for help and as of now, it’s playing Houdini”.   I knew we couldn't continue driving with this fowl in flight.  I could see the headlines now, "Family tragically killed by finch in face".

It was too cold to continue standing outside.  I quickly jumped back into the vehicle, and started whistling a tune to my tiny tweeter.   My daughter states, “Mom, now is not the time to be whistling a tune” I explained I was trying to entice him out, and it worked! 

Being wooed out, Spence finally flew back into his familiar nest…. on my head! I nabbed him back in the box.  We all sighed, "Thank you God".  It was such relief.  I didn't want to believe we drove all that way trying to save him, to have him fly off and die somewhere eventually.  We were never able to find someone who would look at the bird.  Feeling somewhat defeated, headed towards the house after stopping to pick up some triple antibiotic, gauze, and bandages.  I had to be its only doctor that day, and Hubby its surgeon.

I was determined to save this Papa bird.  He had been taking great care of his four new babies over the past three weeks with regular feedings, warming them in nest, and keeping a close watch.  He couldn't die.  I was more than determined to nurse this bird back to health one way or another.  

"Chicken soup anyone?"

When we arrived, we took him out of the box to examine the leg further.  The bleeding had stopped, but it looked bad.  There was still a piece of metal chain wrapped up in his leg, which gave the appearance his leg was split in two and mangled.  My husband and I just looked at each other and said, well let's get this thing off no matter what.  

We didn't know if it meant taking off the leg with it.  It was a difficult decision.  Spencer had not made a single peep the entire ride over the roads in search of a clinic, nor when we were holding him.  His breathing was sporadic, and I knew he must have been in horrific pain, because he usually was the loudest one twittering in the house each morning.  

When we arrived back home, nearly three hours later, we immediately took him into the infirmary, our bathroom.  When we sat the box down on the bathroom sink, he let out a peep, seconds later he peeped even louder, letting his babies, and his mate know he was there.  “I’m here guys, I’m back…hold on I’m coming” 

"It's just a little bruise...I'll be fine...just waiting for Nurse Graff and Dr. Kirby to finish practically ripping my limbs off.

They all started singing back to him.  I could only imagine the conversation between them all.  

The wife "What took you so long!
These kids are driving me NUTS!"

You could hear the babies, shouting for food, just as our children complain…always wanting more!  

"I'm starving and there's
nothing to eat in this house!"

You could hear the anxiety and relief between them.  The babies hadn't spent one second without their father since birth.  I turned Spencer over on his side trying to hold him steady while hubby began the procedure of cutting away the metal alongside his teenier then a tooth pick leg.  The tool he was using for this operation was a six inch Dike (diagonal plier wire cutter) on a leg that was barely an inch long, and merely a centimeter thick.  One wrong move and the whole leg would be sliced in half.  My hand was shaking as I held the poor thing still.  Hubby's hands were trembling as he neared the cutting area.  We knew the fate of our feather friend was in his hands for that moment.  When the cut took place, Spencer let out a shrill unlike I had ever heard.  I was afraid to look.  Yet, his leg was still intact.  

Inspecting closer, found that he wasn't able to move his leg.  I feared it broken, however, treated the area bleeding with the antibiotic cream and with a prayer began to place him in a small dark box with hay bedding to let him heal or pass, which ever came first.  But, Spencer began to sing again.  It was as if he was protesting being separated from his family.  

My husband said, "Put him back in the cage with his babies, and we'll see how he does".  As soon as we put him in, he immediately flew to the food bowl and started ingesting quickly, within minutes he was feeding the babies, all four of them.  I was astonished at the dedication of this bird.  How was this bird operating in such devotion after being injured as such?  You could see he was unable to stand on the injured leg, as he balanced on the other to eat.  It literally brought tears to my eyes as I watched how determined this bird was too live so that his children may live.  

Awestruck at the design of nature.  God had instilled in this little fowl a purpose in which it was to complete, regardless of its injuries, bloodshed, or inabilities to stand on both feet.  I stood in amazement and watched as he speedily fed the babies, and then hopped into the nest with them to continue to bring warmth, despite his pain.  "How God?  How is this possible?  I thought” The next morning I was hesitant to open the covering of the cage, for fear I would find our Spence past on, yet before I had the curtain raised, Spencer began his song.  He was singing to his babies in such a melodious tune, he bellowed out gladness and sang with fierce meaning, tweeting to his young, teaching them to thrive through injury, and continue to lead on.  

His songs became much stronger with each passing day.  His voice of determination resounded throughout our home.  This little bird with a big heart continues to sing as he now stands on both feet solid and strong.  

The lesson we learned that day was priceless. 

One, don't panic!  It isn't always as bad as it appears.  Two, don't give up on what seems hopeless.  Three, never ask your teen to check on a bird in a box while driving, unless you’re into fashionable feathers.   

"Does this bird make my butt look big?"

Four, your purpose is greater than your pain...keep moving forward! 

This finch was no fool, he had the eye of an eagle!

"I'll be back".

God used that tiny finch to teach us tenacity.  He allowed for what seemed a tragic moment turn into an experience of sheer laughter as we drove with feathers flying from my hair.  

He caused a striving family to pull together for once on a mission to mend.  He put a song in our hearts, Spencer's version of "Auld Lang Syne", “Shaking off the former, and moving forward”, he didn’t have time to stay stuck in the pain, he had purpose and purpose had him! 

Spencer sang out loud, he sang out strong, and now we know its Spencer’s song.

SING

La la la la la la la la la la

Sing, sing a song

Sing out loud

Sing out strong

Sing of good things not bad

Sing of happy not sad.

Psalm 59:16

But I will sing of your strength; I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning. For you have been to me a fortress and a refuge in the day of my distress.

Brenda A. Graff

FOOD FOR SOUL MAGAZINE

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