Attacking Faith

Chapter 1

SOMETIMES FAITH TAKES a beating. But that’s the difference between faith and hope: hope gets lost. Faith stays there. No matter what- real faith doesn’t change. No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, no matter what you feel, real faith doesn’t change because it isn’t rooted in circumstances.

Faith took her little brother’s mp3 and plugged in the earpiece. He looked at her and frowned. They could see grandma out in the yard as they turned onto the dirt road. Grandpa was sitting on the porch on the swing. He raised his hand and waved, and then got up as they pulled into the yard.

Grandma was at the door and had it half open before the car even stopped. She was dragging out Faith and her little brother for a life-threatening hug before grandpa made it to the car. She was the sweet one.

Oooh, how are my babies doing? You’re lookin so big and healthy. And I do declare Miss Faith that you’re just quite the young lady these days.

Faith smiled and breathed deep as grandma pulled her in for another hug. Grandpa was at the car door to shake Bryan’s hand as he got out of the car.

Well, young man, grandpa said, looks like you’re growing like a weed. I bet all those girls are chasing you all over school, he said as he patted him on the back.

Bryan timidly held out his weak hand and shook.

The hugs were done and they made their way into the house with bags in tow. Grandma and grandpa were religious people, at least that’s what Faith said. Mama and papa said they were born-again. To Bryan, it was all crap anyway. To Faith, they were just grandma and grandpa. They were papa’s parents, the only ones left on both sides of the family.

Oklahoma was pretty this time of the year. It was Thanksgiving and it was cold but it wasn’t up north cold. It wasn’t what grandpa called Yankee cold. In fact, it was just a brisk 40 degrees and that was OK for Faith. She could try on her new miniskirt if she could get away from mama for a while.

They all sat down in the front room of the frame house and grandma served coffee to the grown ups. Faith sat quietly and listened as they chattered about papa’s work and grandpa’s retirement. He piddled around back in the woodshed making things to supplement his retirement. But that wasn’t necessary since the retirement was quite enough for the two of them. Besides, he said, a man has to keep his hands busy because idle hands are the devil’s workshop. That old worn out phrase had been said at least ten thousand times as far as she knew, and that was only when she was around, Faith reckoned. Plus, he continued, a real man ain’t got time to be involved in no sissy stuff like sitting around watching the boob tube.

Bryan’s ears perked up on the word sissy. He hated that word. It struck him to the heart. What did they mean by sissy? At 15, Bryan was thinking about taking on an identity not in alignment with the rest of the family. Thanks to activists judges up north, he was getting more and more confused every day. He had to hide his most personal thoughts. He had a friend at night that spoke to him, usually in his dreams. His friend told him that these thoughts were ok. Then he heard people at school, like counselors and such, say the same thing. But he had to look away when he really wanted to stare. Papa would never understand. No, mama would never understand and papa would disown him. But there had to be some reason that he felt bad about it. After all, if it were so natural, then why feel ashamed. On the other hand, if it were natural and he was actually born that way, he would never feel shame. Faith didn’t feel shame about being a girl. Papa didn’t feel shame about being a man. It was just all so confusing.

Faith would understand, he reasoned. They were like inseparable. They were the same blood. Besides it was just a body, just a thought, and people are people. And more than all of that, the people at school said that it was my right to do whatever I wanted and no one had any business telling me what to do. He snapped to as grandma came around with some warm cookies straight from the oven.

Mama looked at Faith as she let the men talk. She was a young lady now of almost 17. Not yet 17 though, that was the most important. Not yet. What a beautiful child. She was such a sweet girl, too. Would do anything she was asked. Never complained. Never talked back. What a fine, Christian girl. She would be a fine mother and a fine wife to the right man some day.

MAMA WANDERED BACK to a day not long before. One of those conversations:

Mama, what does the Bible say about mixed marriages?

Mama kept on folding the clothes and didn’t look up as she answered. Of course, that was her way. Looking up would lend more gravity to the situation. Or even better, looking up would acknowledge the seriousness of the question. Or even worse, mama knew, looking up would embarrass Faith and scare her off from ever asking such serious questions again. And that’s just what she wanted, clear, open, and honest communication. Because, if mama were to just tell her these things, then it’d be preaching. And those days are over by age 16.

What do you mean, child? mama said still in her southern type accent. She still retained that after all those years living up north and then returning to Oklahoma. Not exactly deep south either but just the perfect blend. Right in the middle. You mean black and white or Christian and non-Christian?

I mean black and white," Faith answered as she herself continued folding, acting as if the question were of no importance.

"Well, baby, the Bible doesn’t say anything about black and white specifically but it does say ‘Don’t be unequally yoked.’ That means you can’t marry an unbeliever because that invites other things into your marriage."

But, mama, what about black and white specifically? She put her clothes down and waited for her answer.

Well, child, I myself would have never married a black man but it is a different time now. But as long as it’s in the church and he’s a Christian man, the Bible doesn’t make any distinction between races.

Well, I’m just curious is all. I mean, you hear stuff and then it’s hard to know who is right and who is wrong.

Mama was a lady through and through. She was quite a looker in her day and her family had had some money. She lived through many problems when she met and married Faith’s father. They never told the kids, but, over the years, the kids had found out. They had heard bits of information here and there. Faith’s daddy had never really been good enough for her mother because his family, grandma and grandpa, had no money. They were just working folks. Grandpa had done physical labor most of his life and never got an education. So, quite naturally, papa would take after his daddy. But he didn’t. Papa had gone to college while he was still working full-time and had babies in diapers. He proved his in-laws wrong and made something out of nothing, nothing but faith and determination. He did it by burning the midnight oil and writing papers at 4:00 in the morning, and then getting up and cleaning toilets the next day or loading trucks all day long, just so he could get that college education, one which was handed to his wife Annie’s dad because they did have money. Of course, one would never think Annie’s father had money because they weren’t ostentatious about it. He was a rancher. They had had land, and lots of it.

I know, baby, she answered Faith and then took her hand, and they sat down on the bed. Listen, child. A boy has to be rooted in the Word of God before you get involved with him. That’s the test-the beginning and the end.  But we would rather you stick with your own kind. You just want to make sure that whoever you get married to has the same values and the same type of background that you do. That they know Jesus.

Faith looked at her honestly and then looked down as if embarrassed.

Sweetheart, is there anything you want to tell your mama? I won’t judge. You can say anything at all in here.

Mama, I’m not talking about getting married. I am just feeling that maybe I might want to go out with a black boy at some time or another. Nothing else.

Mama squeezed Faith’s hand and smiled. Sure, honey. Keep in mind though that every decision you make now affects tomorrow. And sometimes you can’t turn back. But it’s a little early to be thinking of that. Remember, you have to be 17 before you can go out and then you have to be with a group. Ok?

Faith looked at her and grunted in frustration. Mama, I’m 16 and a half.

I know, honey. I know.

She patted her on the hand and then