In Search of the Lost Faith of a Child

Some things are hard to think about, some memories too painful visualize again. I file these memories away in a tall metal cabinet and put the key away, out of sight until I need it. This is one of those times.

There have been many times in my life that I have wished I could capture the innocence of another time. No, I would definitely never want to live my childhood over again, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy (if I had one, that is) because my childhood was far from innocent, but within those tender years was once a faith and an innocence that was priceless. To experience even a moment of that pure faith now would be . . . well, let me try to share what I mean.

Because of abuse - witnessing my step-father brutally beating my mother during the day, and then enduring his sickening presence in my room at night as he molested me - I prayed a lot as a child. We rarely went to church, except when I stayed with my grandparents for the summer. My mother and step-father were alcoholics, so there was always liquor in the house, and I was always afraid.
When I was nine, I came home from school one day and heard my mother's screams before I even opened the door. I walked down the hallway, looked in their bedroom and found my step-father holding my mother against the wall with his hands around her neck, choking her. I started crying and he yelled at me and told me to go to my room, threatening to hurt me if I didn't, and I knew he would. Fortunately, my younger brothers were not home.

I ran to my room and closed the door. Moving to the window, I began to talk to my invisible friend. I had done this many times because it helped me to cope, only this time it wasn't working, because my mother's screams and the yells had only grown louder. Getting on my bed, I wrapped the pillow around my head and rocked back and forth, asking God to please make it go away, to please let it be over.
I woke later to the sun going down, and it was over.
This pattern soon became habit- a talk with my invisible friend, then rocking to sleep. I don't know how I knew it would always work, I just did.

It wasn't until years later that I came to understand that those times when I thought I was alone talking to an invisible friend, I wasn't alone. When I thought I was rocking myself to sleep, it wasn't me, it was my Savior rocking me, taking away the pain, soothing me and making everything all right.
For many years, the faith of that child was lost because that child soon became a lost teen and then a lost adult. It took a long time, but I was finally found, and the faith began to grow once again, and though it's strong now, to have the lost faith of that child would make my faith concrete and sure in so many ways.

So this is what I work for, to have the kind of pure, unshakable faith in my Lord and Savior that nothing can touch. He was there for me in the darkest times of my life, and though I left Him for a time, He never left me. And I know He never will.

Christ is always there with His arms stretched open, just waiting for us to step into them. I pray that we can all gain unshakable faith in Him and never lose it, because we are definitely going to need it to see us through the days, weeks, months, and years to come.