When Faith Fails, Remember Me

Three-year-old* me had a bed-wetting issue. She prayed specifically about it, almost every night before going to bed. The nights she prayed before going to sleep, she would wake up to a dry bed in the morning. She didn't think, even for a minute, that her nightly accidents may have stopped due to any other changes in her routine. Her mother made her go to the washroom every night before bed, but the difference between a wet bed and a dry bed in the morning depended on whether or not she remembered to pray. That's what she believed, anyway!

Five-year-old* me would have nightmares of thieves breaking into her house and cutting off her arm when she attempted to fight them off and protect her parents. She prayed about it and the nightmares disappeared. If she forgot to pray, they sometimes returned. Without a question, she prayed again. Until the nightmares stopped, until she became a dreamer of good, beautiful and awe-inspiring dreams.

Six-year-old* me wanted sunglasses; large ones with a coloured tint on the lens. One Sunday, as they walked to the bus stand after church, she asked her parents if they could buy her a pair. They told her that all shops were closed because it was a Sunday. She looked around; it was true. To keep her spirits up, they told her that if they saw anyone selling sunglasses for kids between where they then stood and the bus stand, they would definitely buy them for her.

The bus stand wasn't far away, so her parents were (perhaps) sure that they wouldn't have to spend a rupee on a child's desires that day. But six-year-old me had other plans. Even as her parents walked ahead, she stopped on the side of the road and whispered a prayer. And sure enough, her God came through! A shopkeeper appeared along the way, pushing a vehicle full of sunglasses for children! Needless to say, six-year-old me wasn't surpised at all. Because she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, about her God and what he could do for her. Her parents, on the other hand, were definitely surprised. And they would go on to tell her this story of her faith many times over the years that followed.

I speak of this younger me in the third person because I know I'm not her anymore. Maybe her decisions were easier to make, her life was less complicated, maybe her desires were small and simple. Maybe it was easier for her to believe. But believe she did! The Bible tells us to become like children; I think I understand why now. 

My life has changed so much, I have seen, done and experienced much. And for that reason, I may and probably cannot ever go back to being that version of me again. But one thing brings me consolation: the fact that God hasn't changed.

He's still the same God who cared about the little things.

He's still the same God who heard those whispered little prayers.

He's still the same God who fulfilled those little wishes.

He's still the same God who loved that little girl. 

And because of that, I have hope that I can renew my faith. Faith that, no matter how busy He is, He still has time for me and my prayers.

That's the only assurance I want. That's all I will ever need!

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*The age(s) mentioned in the article are estimated and may not be accurate.