Faith For Dinner

This is my testament, a letter—to faith.

New endeavours are a true test of faith. It can be a wonderful joy to finally hold in your hand the one thing you desired for years. Sometimes, having that thing pushes you to the brink of spiritual chaos. After the labor, after the fanfare, you wonder, was it really worth it? Is it worth risking everything for? I sure hope Heaven has ears because I really need God to hear me and send help now!

You know, every time I think of giving up, which has been more often than I am even comfortable admitting lately, God says, “NO.” Whenever, I feel like maybe I should focus my efforts on things that will give me a little bit of immediate gratification so things will resemble normal again, God says, “NO.” I felt like it was no use talking to anyone about it because no one understood what I was going through, so I wound myself up really tight. Like anything you wind up, no matter how secure you force it to be, it doesn’t stay that way. Slowly and methodically things were slowly coming undone and beginning to snowball—so was I. I tested the depth of my situation by reaching out for a lifeline but received generic in good faith replies, “Nakia, it will be okay, you are the strong one. Don’t worry, let God handle it.” Frustrated from what I considered to be a lack of understanding to my plight, I always snatched my hand back, bit my tongue, vowed to keep my mouth quiet—and pressed forward, despite. There were the others that would come out of nowhere with the right words of encouragement and sustenance at my most vulnerable moments, “Don’t give up Nakia, what do you need? Don’t give up Nakia, how can I help? Don’t give up Nakia, let me pray with you and for you.”

Confused, and feeling alone, many nights I stretched out across my bed and cried out to God for hours to do something and right away. I know that faith without works is dead, and no fruit will it bear. But I felt like Yes, I have faith. Yes, for sure if nothing else, I am working until I get delirious and forget what I’m doing sometimes. Where is the fruit Lord? What do you want me to do, have faith for dinner? I mean I wasn’t asking for a lot of fruit, not right now, just enough to eat, and enough to give me the energy to get through. I was starting to feel like Jesus, hanging on the cross, like okay God, I’m still here, it’s me, Nakia. Are You still here? Didn’t You tell me to do this? Please don’t leave me because this is way bigger than anything I can do on my own, especially right now. I am out of my league. God in all of His patience spoke to my spirit. He asked, “Have I ever let you down?” Well no, but still Lord, this looks like a time when I am coming dangerously close to being let down—hard. “Have I ever let you down?” No, but Lord I am really scared this time; I mean I can visually see devastation—it’s right there! I am stumbling Lord. With penetrating love,  “Have I ever let you down?” NO, You have NEVER let me down.

My all-knowing spirit rationalized with my mind. There is no going back, but quit right where I am and for sure I will face imminent ruin. If and when I decide to start over I will be sent to the back of the line, there are no place holders, not in real life. If I keep going, who knows, I just might make it somewhere. My faith has no choice but to outweigh my fear, I told myself. I picked up my faith, wiped the fear trickling down my face onto my sleeve, and went back to work as I waited. Like always, just when I need Him most, God sends His angels to my doorstep bearing big, golden baskets brimming over with fruit, faith to eat, enough of it to fill me so that I can keep going.

This is a true testament that has happened over and over in my life . . . my life the miracle. Faith is the reason I can continue to believe beyond my imagination. You see, there, in the eyes of my angels, I see God and I just know.
Now Faith is the substance of things hoped for;
the evidence of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1

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