My Hall of Faith

She isn’t famous, or even well-known. She never started a foundation or even had a career. Not only is she not a part of history in any way, but she dealt with almost crippling insecurity her entire life, even at the time of her death. But despite her seeming insignificance, she daily inspires my walk with God. To me, she is of utmost significance. Who is she? She is not only my grandmother but my muse.

I’ve always loved Hebrews 11. What a beautiful reminder of the faithful waiting, and suffering, our fathers in the faith endured. From Abel to Samuel, these imperfect, yet faithful, followers of God ” . . . through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight . . . Some were tortured . . . suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains of imprisonment . . . ” (Hebrews 11:33-36). In a world of modern conveniences, I am tempted to think that I should not endure suffering of any kind. At the same time, it is evident that despite modern conveniences, medicine and “civilized governments”, suffering will continue. Now, instead of enemy armies, an infant mortality rate of 28%, and a life time of back-breaking labor, we are dealing with crippling anxiety and depression as well as the unsettling news that modern medicine cannot prevent all infant deaths or battles with cancer.

Because suffering is still a part of our lives, we have a dilemma on our hands. What do we do with this reality? For me, I have had to accept the reality of suffering since my early teen years. Despite my very stable, Christian, middle class family, depression has been a part of my life. I was never abused or neglected in any way, so I can only accept this as a result of a fallen world. I have always wanted a family, so when I had my first child at 31, I was so happy. My husband and I had waited for this moment. Unfortunately, that birth came with a dose of postpartum depression. I was heart-broken that this time was tainted by these negative emotions, but my “hall of faith” helped me during this time. Whenever I was particularly down, I remembered my grandmother- demeaned by her mother, suffered from poverty during the great depression, struggled to care for a young family of six on meager funds, lost a baby to premature birth, and struggled greatly with almost crippling insecurity for all of her life. Even though my son was born over 12 years ago, I remember thinking of her, what her days were like, and realizing that what I was suffering was nothing compared to what she suffered. Amidst all that she went through, she never lost her faith, so I knew that if she could carry on in faith, so could I. While our fathers in the faith never saw the Messiah they were so desperately waiting for, my grandmother was never cured of her insecurity on this earth. It was and is my conviction that when I still feel anxious, overwhelmed, or close to despair, that I must “lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and . . . run with endurance” the race set before me (Hebrews 12: 1). For just like Abraham or my grandmother, I will not understand every situation or emotion that comes my way, but one day we will receive “a kingdom that cannot be shaken”, so I must carry on as they did, remembering my “hall of faith”.