“Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the
proof of what is not seen.” Hebrews 11:1
When I was young, maybe
nine or ten, I knew my parents’ income. My dad said at one time that he was
making $7,000 per year. Now, remember, that is 1964 or 65. A couple of years
later my mom announced that she had received a raise of $700 per year. I was
smart enough to know we weren’t millionaires, but not quite savvy enough
economically to realize we were on the lower end of “middle class”.
In fact, one year my dad
bought my mom a car for Christmas. He liked making her search through the house
for her main gift. So, he would decorate a box which she would open. Inside the
box was another box with a note in it. The note told her to look inside the
oven. Once there she found a second box with a note saying, “Look in the hall
closet”. This went on for half a dozen boxes. Finally, the note said, “Go to
the driveway.” We all followed mom and dad outside to see the car.
It was a Fiat. An old
Fiat. A very old Fiat. Indeed, it was even missing the passenger’s seat which
dad quickly explained he would replace as soon as possible. Mom’s big gift was
an old, tiny, rusty Fiat that cost $50! To this day I’m not sure if that was a
result of our economic situation or my dad’s bit of Irish parsimony.
Mom worked three jobs
while Dad pastored a church in Pasadena, CA. My brother and I both had paper
routes. My sisters, too young to have jobs yet, helped us prep our bundles
before we went into the neighborhood tossing newspapers that slid right up to
our customers’ doors. Usually.
I really had little
evidence of how much money my family had. I knew we went to McDonald’s
occasionally and we could each order a hamburger. But, if we wanted a
cheeseburger, we had to pay for the cheese ourselves. As an adult I have come
to realize my dad was a child of the Great Depression. It has helped me
understand his penny-pinching ways.
The only access I had to
real “cash” was Dad’s wallet which usually sat on top of the blonde chest of
drawers in their bedroom. I was inquisitive, and often looked through the
contents of that leather envelope. There were S&H Green stamps, a Gulf gas
card, his driver’s license, pictures of mom and us kids. And then I would find
the cash. I don’t think I ever found more than $20 in Dad’s wallet. Usually
only a handful of $1s. Nope, the evidence told me we were right to get by with
a $50-dollar car!
What I didn’t realize, of
course, was my dad’s wallet was not the only evidence of the family’s assets.
There was the banking account, the savings account, a retirement account and a
huge coin collection that, at least in my dad’s mind, was worth thousands!
What if I lived each day
in fear that the only assets we had were the few bills I discovered in Dad’s
wallet? What if I thought I would drive a $50 Fiat’s with a missing seat for
the rest of my life?
But there was something
more than the “evidence” I personally discovered. There were two loving, though
imperfect, parents doing all they could to provide for their kids. We took in
every sight that was free or inexpensive in greater Los Angeles. We frolicked
at the beach. We wandered through Huntington Gardens. We drove up to Mount
Baldy.
For me, this is an
earthly picture of what faith in my Heavenly Father is all about. I know Christ
from the Gospels. And I know Him from the witness of His Spirit in my heart.
But, I do not see Him, I cannot see His eyes, feel His human hand on my
shoulder.
But, my faith in Him is
the same as the faith I had in my parents; only so much greater because He is
greater. Trials are the opportunity to trust in the bank account of the
patience Jesus offers. Failings are a chance to draw upon the sweetness of His
mercy and forgiveness. Days of clouds and wildflowers are like looking through
Dad’s wallet. They are the dollar bills, but Father-God has so much more
prepared for us.
Today, trust the abundant
reserves of Father-God. He has more grace, more power, more compassion and
comfort than is possible to imagine.
