Even though they have died, my mother and father still speak to me through their faith. Daddy fell in love with my mother the first time he saw her. In 1942, he was serving in the Coast Guard, stationed in Mobile, Alabama and had become wayward in his conduct. He bought a Bible for $1.00 and began reading it. He decided to find a church in Mobile and "go forward" to confess his sins. On a Sunday morning in August, he entered the Church Street Church of Christ, sat down near the front and waited for the service to begin. He began to hear others enter the church and his curiosity resulted in his turning his head to see the ones coming in. His eyes met who he described as "the most beautiful woman I've ever seen" and she smiled at him. His heart started to thump and his mind could not focus on his need to repent this day. He was invited to dinner (another interesting story) and asked my future mother if he could see her again. In three months they were engaged and married in March, 1943. God gave them 71 years together.
Their story of faith began with their Bible reading together - two chapters every day. Even when they were apart, which happened many times during the War, they read the same two chapters, faithfully. At first, they let the Word just flow over and into them. As time went on, the Word of God began to speak to them in different and powerful ways. As their child, I witnessed their growth, their transformation, their service, and their joy as they both sought the Lord through reading his word. They had some extremely rough moments and challenges, but they never gave up their time together reading the Word and prayer. The image of them, even as my father was dying, reading aloud to each other and praying, is a precious gift they left me. Their faith continues to teach and sustain me as I grow. They taught me what loving and seeking God looks like.
I was broken to begin with. I was fearfully and wonderfully made in my mother's womb with the gift of Spina Bifida. Some would take umbrage with my belief as they believe it is the evil in the world and a good God would never allow that. As I continue to read the Bible, I only see broken people that Yahweh wonderfully works with and through.
My brokenness has helped me to see that I am in need of something much bigger than my self and so often, I am in need of rescue. By the faithfulness of Yahweh, I began learning faith and I am never alone. I have learned that suffering, submitted to Yahweh as a sacrifice, produces a good attitude and hope in my soul that renews daily. I have learned that brokenness not only impacts the body, but the mind and soul, allowing Yahweh to softly speak healing, comfort and redemption to those places hidden in the darkness that needed to come into the light; healing me in the eternal things and giving to hope to others. Often when we suffer, we become "I" focused; the gift of three children was the gift where I learned how to look outward and serve others, finding another salvation and faithfulness by Yahweh.
Brokenness, surrendered to Yahweh, cultivates a compassion for others who are broken, feeling devalued, and trying to hold onto the hem of Jesus daily. The faith in my story started with surrender that my "situation" was orchestrated by Yahweh, a loving, sustaining Father, who seeks to partner with us so that others may be reached and come to know faith and the faithfulness of Yahweh.
25 years ago I met a couple who happen to be my husband’s grandparents. Their faith in the Lord was something that always had me in awe. They were high school sweethearts that chose a life of faithfulness to God and to the body of Christ and to each other. Their commitment to that life continues to be an example though both have passed. The way they both looked to scripture to guide their lives and their service—this example of faithfulness is a precious one to me.
My friend Bethany died in the summer of 2024. She was 43 years old, a homeschool mom of two girls the same age as my kiddos. We had been friends since I was 2, penpals for my middle school years all the way up through college. Even though she was almost 10 years older than I, she always treated me like a delightful friend, a respected peer. She poured so much wisdom into my life through her letters and her example. For the last year of her life, she was in excruciating pain from the cancer and radiation that was crumbling her spine. One day during a back spasm, she looked at me and gently said, “I am so ready for my new body in heaven.” She didn’t sound bitter; she sounded like she believed it with her whole heart. And even now that she’s gone and I am still stuck in a fog of grief, her faith is teaching me how to believe that “Yahweh is real and faithful and worth a whole-life bet.”
My closest and dearest friend, Linda, reinforces my faith through her example. We have known each other since kindergarten and we will both be 70 this spring. We were close friends when we were quite young. She ministered to me by her faith through my messy and turbulent youth and crazy family life. She was there when I accepted Christ as my Savior at 13 and, when everything constantly seemed to be going wrong, she stood by my side. She has been a true example of being "in this world but not of this world" for as long as we've known each other. She is the executive director of a Gospel ministry that is truly changing lives. I pray daily for her, her ministry, and that the Lord would continue to prosper her ministry to those who are struggling with belief and unbelief.
There was a late season with my mother in Texas, when I learned again the abiding care of the Father…
There was the overwhelming silence! Mom had been stilled by an insidious dementia (Primary Progressive Aphasia). The woman we used to say never had an unuttered thought now could not bring any thought to speech. Some of her last words I heard very early one morning in our home, as I came upon her in the midst of her devotions: ”This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice…”
As I prepared to preach at her funeral, I recalled how along the way there had always been both joy and depression. For as long as I could remember she had herself in an early grave; she lived always overshadowed by her own mother's early death.
She was sometimes irritable, occasionally petty or vindictive; she could be hard on the people closest to her. She was a sinner, like all of us.
But what matters is this: she was loved by the Father, redeemed by Jesus, grafted into the family of Christ in baptism, nurtured in one church family after another, shared her gifts in service… and (this is critical) she knew the constant companionship of the Holy Spirit, praying in her groaning those last years, with sighs too deep for words.
She loved this prayer for children we used to use often at All Saints Church in Durham: O gracious God, our heavenly Father, you keep watch over your children in this unsteady and confusing world. Mercifully care for them and teach them that your ways give abundant life and that following you in the path of true, lasting blessing and purpose. Give them strength to stand firm in faith in our Lord Jesus Christ so that they might never know a day apart from you…
In spite of all the suffering, there was never a day when she didn't know the risen Jesus—her constant companion, her abiding comfort. She made sure her children knew him and then found ways to introduce him to her grandchildren.
There was always her simple but relentless faith, which in its simplicity had earlier embarrassed me, but which at the end I envied.
This is beautiful story! Thank you so much for sharing it. I especially love that last line. I've found myself in that very same spot--first embarrassed by a loved one's simple faith and then moved to a kind of holy envy.
My faith is lifted by the love you showed in the midst of suffering. You saw beyond the challenge set before you. You were able to see the faith in your Mom, the weakness of the body, and love!
I’m not sharing a faith story as much as a faith revelation I had today. I’m an animal lover, and I’ve always struggled with why God requires a blood sacrifice. I get it logically, but my heart hurts at the thought. Today, I truly tried to put myself in Abel’s place, and for the first time, I realized how difficult it may have been for him to offer a living sacrifice, a small, cute, cuddly animal that he helped care for, possibly helped deliver. This may have been the greater sacrifice because it was more difficult to offer. Perhaps that’s why Cain’s offering didn’t please God. I’ve never felt an emotional connection to a vegetable. How difficult would that be to “sacrifice”? This may seem basic to many of you, but it’s truly a heart revelation for me. Faith requires us to give to God what matters to us the most, and what may seem like an end to us (the sacrifice of an innocent baby animal), is the beginning for Him because He sees what it takes for us to give Him our best. And that’s what He did for us. He sacrificed His best, so we could have a new beginning.
Yes! I love this thought. For most people offering animal sacrifices, the animal meant something to them personally. I’ve been thinking about sacrifices and giving what you love as our family sends our daughter off to the Coast Guard, specifically because she feels like it’s something God has asked her to do. And I keep telling people, of course it’s hard but it’s also this crazy privilege to give your absolute best thing to God.
My great grandmother is someone I don’t have memories of…my mother and grandmother have told me many stories, so I feel like I have memories, but they are not my own. I know little things about her…like how she washed her face with just water and had flawless skin. How she made her dressing (the best dressing in the world…my grandmother still makes it). But most of all, I’ve been told that she was a godly woman, full of faith.
Because of her faith, she raised a faithful son (my grandfather) who married a young girl from a broken and sinful family. They took her in, taught her the gospel, and she (my grandmother) became a woman of faith—not immediately…God’s timing seems to be a lot slower than ours. ;) My great grandmother treated her as a daughter…and had a great influence on her. Because of the influence of my great grandmother, my mother is a faithful woman of God, and she in turn raised me to be. And now I am raising my boys to have their own faith in God as well, and I pray they will grow to be faithful men, loving God and living for Him. To me, that’s how someone’s faith “still speaks.” Through the generations. ❤️
I could also talk about my grandfather (the son of the great grandmother I mentioned above). He has only been gone a couple of years, but his faith is still impacting us. My 5 year old talks often about PawPaw…how PawPaw doesn’t need Christmas presents, because he lives in heaven…how he hopes God will let PawPaw live in our house when we get to heaven…and how he wishes we could go visit him sometimes.
I could tell many stories of his faith, of his imperfect life that pointed to God, of him teaching the gospel to my grandmother, and of his last days on earth where he spent his time talking to his family about Jesus—making sure we would all be together for eternity. One of my favorites is the last Sunday of his life, when I sat by his bed holding a phone that was streaming the worship service from his home congregation. My grandmother sat on her bed, all of us listening. He was tired. I knew he felt terrible. I was worried the phone was bothering or upsetting him. But when I asked if he wanted me to turn it off or turn it down, he furrowed his brow and shook his head. My grandmother said he listened every Sunday. He wanted to worship…he wanted to hear God’s word preached (there’s no telling how many hours of sermons he listened to in his last years after his eyes began to fail him). So we sat there, me trying to sing along through the tears…knowing the words we sang, “they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint,” would become a reality for him soon—to me, it felt bittersweet and inevitable, but to him, it was a comforting promise. His faith in God and His promises was strong, and as I tell the stories of him to my boys, I know his faith will speak through generations, just like my great-grandmother’s has. 💙
I’m crying reading every one of these faith stories. Just like the people we read about in the Bible, stories like these are powerful, moving, & help strengthen our own faith. God knew the value of stories since the beginning of time - how they can shape us, mold us, and lift us up. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of stories passed down, the stories currently happening, and the stories to come.
My mother-in-law was a strong woman of faith. Her prayers were so powerful that we knew if she prayed for something, it would happen. She taught us to pay attention to the Holy Spirit bringing someone to mind. She had story after story of people she reached out to "at just the right time."
So, it was profoundly sad when she suffered a frontal lobe disorder for the final 15 years of her life that permanently changed her personality and her ability to acknowledge the God she had so faithfully followed. It was a long, drawn out difficult time for the family that led to a sense of peace and relief when she died.
But my husband learned some critical spiritual lessons during that season, and he is more like her now than he ever was before she got sick. She didn't live to see the transformation of his faith, but her faith lives on through him.
I often think of my parents' faith. Marrying after the hardships of the depression and WWII, they loved the Lord. They suffered the tragic loss of my little brother when he was five years old. I think of my mother's grief and how she endured it. I was 13 at the time.
They lived into their nineties and remained faithful. The picture I have of my dad sitting in his rocking chair with an open Bible is familiar to all the family. They still truly inspire me today.
I keep writing "beautiful" under all these stories. But what else is there to say? I'm mostly just bowled over by all these beautiful people of faith. A mentor of my husband's used to say, "Don't forget: People are gallant." And isn't that true?
I think about someone who just recently passed away... he was the father of one my good friends when I got my first job out of school. I was living in a completely new place with no friends and no family... I had visited a handful of churches and felt completely isolated. Then my friend invited me to go to church with him. His parents basically turned me into another member of the family. I'm sure he didn't think anything of it... and I didn't think much of it at the time, but as I've matured, I've realized just how impactful that mentorship and friendship was for me as an earlier follower of Jesus.
I'm grateful for reading everyone's stories here... I have a friend who says that stories are one of the best measures of the Spirit's work in our lives. Our sharing is not just honoring their memory, but bringing glory to Yahweh!
Amen!! In some of the more charismatic churches I’ve visited, they begin healing services with testimonies. The idea is that healing requires faith and stories build faith.
I’m not totally sure how I feel about the healing services but I am 100% on board with telling stories to grow faith!
The text states that Cain brought "an" offering, but that Abel brought an offering of the "firstborn and their fat portions". My thought is that Abel's gift was more pleasing because Abel thought about what would be pleasing and wasn't just checking off a box. It's easy to say God wants our best but how often do we "phone it in" when we are sitting in the pew on Sunday morning? The second part of v. 6 says "He rewards those who seek Him". That requires action on my part and also that I offer my best self to Him, on Sunday and evert other day.
I thought this as well…but then also started thinking about how Hebrews says that Abel offered “by faith.” So I wonder if it was because Abel gave the “firstborn of his flock,” requiring a faith and trust in God that he would continue to provide and bless his flock? Like Jen mentioned: he was willing to give and do ANYTHING for God. And maybe Cain, presenting “some of the land’s produce,” was giving just the left overs…or maybe a small amount…not an offering that would require faith and trust in God? I used to focus on what the offering was….like maybe Cain didn’t obey and offer the “right” thing, but today’s study has me thinking it was more about their heart and faith.
That's kind of where I wound up as well: Cain "made an offering" and Abel made an offering of the "firstlings" of the flock. Did they both give as God had prospered them? Was Cain's not the "firstfruits"? Abel's offering was also sacrificial, not only by giving the best of his flock, but also one that could be sacrificed. Was Cain less diligent in his faith than Abel?
My faith story is a professor of mine who recently passed away. He battled adversity throughout his life, and yet never wavered in his close relationship with God. He stood up for things that were right, and was willing to speak out, even if his opinion was not popular. He taught a lot of us to see the Bible more clearly, and for that I am forever grateful! Because of his faith in Christ, he carried on and was bold, and that inspires me to do the same.
My parents show faith by their trust in His plan. Never seem to doubt….whether it was financial, physical or death. Content with His plan. Their faith in what they do every day to help someone.
My friend Victoria showed me incredible heartfelt faith. She showed me how much of my heart God wanted. How could I not really know that????? I didn’t have her challenges in life yet in the years I was blessed to call her friend, I saw how much more God wanted than my spiritual routines. Changed my life…..
I keep going back to Heb 10:39. We are not of those who shrink back, my soul has no pleasure in him.
Perseverance through trials…not shrinking back. I’ve so much to learn!
I love Hebrews 11 and I think it has a lot of power to help us grow our faith, but nothing compares to witnessing a person we know walking boldly in faith. It’s truly empowering.
I like to imagine what it would look like to lay my own genealogy out on paper “Cleo begot David and David begot David Wade. David Wade begot Courtney..” it’s easy to forget the lists of names represent hundreds of years of LIVING. Just daily living, community, contending for the faith.
My great grandfather Cleo was a farmer who lived on top of a mountain in TN. Fell in love with the School Teacher, Mae (yes there was just one school house and one teacher in this rural area). They built a life on that mountain, later his son would buy the school house land and build his house there, and it’s where I would live for 14 years.
Cleo survived WWII working on planes for the Air Force. And then when he returned from war he went back to the simply life. Farming tobacco with his dad, building a family. Until one night there was a Gospel Meeting in town. He decided to go, and take his family. And then he met the Lord. And it makes me want to jump for JOY! Because yes, it changed his life. He went on to leave the family’s money source in tobacco and started raising cattle. But not only that it REVOLUTIONIZED MY LIFE. WHO would I be without Cleo first walking with God? And then David?
Four generations later I’m still remembering what a quiet and gentle spirit looks like because of how I saw my great grandmother complete the daily chores, no complaining, just raising her garden, sowing quilts, and sharing with any friend, family, or church member that was in her life. With a homemade apple pie with every dinner. This is an Acts 2 life. And this is what I desire. To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with my God. 🤍
Even though they have died, my mother and father still speak to me through their faith. Daddy fell in love with my mother the first time he saw her. In 1942, he was serving in the Coast Guard, stationed in Mobile, Alabama and had become wayward in his conduct. He bought a Bible for $1.00 and began reading it. He decided to find a church in Mobile and "go forward" to confess his sins. On a Sunday morning in August, he entered the Church Street Church of Christ, sat down near the front and waited for the service to begin. He began to hear others enter the church and his curiosity resulted in his turning his head to see the ones coming in. His eyes met who he described as "the most beautiful woman I've ever seen" and she smiled at him. His heart started to thump and his mind could not focus on his need to repent this day. He was invited to dinner (another interesting story) and asked my future mother if he could see her again. In three months they were engaged and married in March, 1943. God gave them 71 years together.
Their story of faith began with their Bible reading together - two chapters every day. Even when they were apart, which happened many times during the War, they read the same two chapters, faithfully. At first, they let the Word just flow over and into them. As time went on, the Word of God began to speak to them in different and powerful ways. As their child, I witnessed their growth, their transformation, their service, and their joy as they both sought the Lord through reading his word. They had some extremely rough moments and challenges, but they never gave up their time together reading the Word and prayer. The image of them, even as my father was dying, reading aloud to each other and praying, is a precious gift they left me. Their faith continues to teach and sustain me as I grow. They taught me what loving and seeking God looks like.
This is beautiful! Thank you, Joy.
I love your story. It does give hope to see faith acted on and the faithfulness of Yahweh who multiplied the small things. My heart is filled!
Thank you for sharing this story.
That is a beautiful story. I am curious. What were the two chapters?
I was broken to begin with. I was fearfully and wonderfully made in my mother's womb with the gift of Spina Bifida. Some would take umbrage with my belief as they believe it is the evil in the world and a good God would never allow that. As I continue to read the Bible, I only see broken people that Yahweh wonderfully works with and through.
My brokenness has helped me to see that I am in need of something much bigger than my self and so often, I am in need of rescue. By the faithfulness of Yahweh, I began learning faith and I am never alone. I have learned that suffering, submitted to Yahweh as a sacrifice, produces a good attitude and hope in my soul that renews daily. I have learned that brokenness not only impacts the body, but the mind and soul, allowing Yahweh to softly speak healing, comfort and redemption to those places hidden in the darkness that needed to come into the light; healing me in the eternal things and giving to hope to others. Often when we suffer, we become "I" focused; the gift of three children was the gift where I learned how to look outward and serve others, finding another salvation and faithfulness by Yahweh.
Brokenness, surrendered to Yahweh, cultivates a compassion for others who are broken, feeling devalued, and trying to hold onto the hem of Jesus daily. The faith in my story started with surrender that my "situation" was orchestrated by Yahweh, a loving, sustaining Father, who seeks to partner with us so that others may be reached and come to know faith and the faithfulness of Yahweh.
Beautiful
25 years ago I met a couple who happen to be my husband’s grandparents. Their faith in the Lord was something that always had me in awe. They were high school sweethearts that chose a life of faithfulness to God and to the body of Christ and to each other. Their commitment to that life continues to be an example though both have passed. The way they both looked to scripture to guide their lives and their service—this example of faithfulness is a precious one to me.
What a gift!
Beautiful! Yahweh is so good to give us examples to see and know the possibilities of faith!
My friend Bethany died in the summer of 2024. She was 43 years old, a homeschool mom of two girls the same age as my kiddos. We had been friends since I was 2, penpals for my middle school years all the way up through college. Even though she was almost 10 years older than I, she always treated me like a delightful friend, a respected peer. She poured so much wisdom into my life through her letters and her example. For the last year of her life, she was in excruciating pain from the cancer and radiation that was crumbling her spine. One day during a back spasm, she looked at me and gently said, “I am so ready for my new body in heaven.” She didn’t sound bitter; she sounded like she believed it with her whole heart. And even now that she’s gone and I am still stuck in a fog of grief, her faith is teaching me how to believe that “Yahweh is real and faithful and worth a whole-life bet.”
Thank you for this. Now Bethany is encouraging us too. 😊
My closest and dearest friend, Linda, reinforces my faith through her example. We have known each other since kindergarten and we will both be 70 this spring. We were close friends when we were quite young. She ministered to me by her faith through my messy and turbulent youth and crazy family life. She was there when I accepted Christ as my Savior at 13 and, when everything constantly seemed to be going wrong, she stood by my side. She has been a true example of being "in this world but not of this world" for as long as we've known each other. She is the executive director of a Gospel ministry that is truly changing lives. I pray daily for her, her ministry, and that the Lord would continue to prosper her ministry to those who are struggling with belief and unbelief.
What a treasure a friendship like that is!
I have one of those friends too! They are priceless!
There was a late season with my mother in Texas, when I learned again the abiding care of the Father…
There was the overwhelming silence! Mom had been stilled by an insidious dementia (Primary Progressive Aphasia). The woman we used to say never had an unuttered thought now could not bring any thought to speech. Some of her last words I heard very early one morning in our home, as I came upon her in the midst of her devotions: ”This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice…”
As I prepared to preach at her funeral, I recalled how along the way there had always been both joy and depression. For as long as I could remember she had herself in an early grave; she lived always overshadowed by her own mother's early death.
She was sometimes irritable, occasionally petty or vindictive; she could be hard on the people closest to her. She was a sinner, like all of us.
But what matters is this: she was loved by the Father, redeemed by Jesus, grafted into the family of Christ in baptism, nurtured in one church family after another, shared her gifts in service… and (this is critical) she knew the constant companionship of the Holy Spirit, praying in her groaning those last years, with sighs too deep for words.
She loved this prayer for children we used to use often at All Saints Church in Durham: O gracious God, our heavenly Father, you keep watch over your children in this unsteady and confusing world. Mercifully care for them and teach them that your ways give abundant life and that following you in the path of true, lasting blessing and purpose. Give them strength to stand firm in faith in our Lord Jesus Christ so that they might never know a day apart from you…
In spite of all the suffering, there was never a day when she didn't know the risen Jesus—her constant companion, her abiding comfort. She made sure her children knew him and then found ways to introduce him to her grandchildren.
There was always her simple but relentless faith, which in its simplicity had earlier embarrassed me, but which at the end I envied.
This is beautiful story! Thank you so much for sharing it. I especially love that last line. I've found myself in that very same spot--first embarrassed by a loved one's simple faith and then moved to a kind of holy envy.
My faith is lifted by the love you showed in the midst of suffering. You saw beyond the challenge set before you. You were able to see the faith in your Mom, the weakness of the body, and love!
I’m not sharing a faith story as much as a faith revelation I had today. I’m an animal lover, and I’ve always struggled with why God requires a blood sacrifice. I get it logically, but my heart hurts at the thought. Today, I truly tried to put myself in Abel’s place, and for the first time, I realized how difficult it may have been for him to offer a living sacrifice, a small, cute, cuddly animal that he helped care for, possibly helped deliver. This may have been the greater sacrifice because it was more difficult to offer. Perhaps that’s why Cain’s offering didn’t please God. I’ve never felt an emotional connection to a vegetable. How difficult would that be to “sacrifice”? This may seem basic to many of you, but it’s truly a heart revelation for me. Faith requires us to give to God what matters to us the most, and what may seem like an end to us (the sacrifice of an innocent baby animal), is the beginning for Him because He sees what it takes for us to give Him our best. And that’s what He did for us. He sacrificed His best, so we could have a new beginning.
Yes! I love this thought. For most people offering animal sacrifices, the animal meant something to them personally. I’ve been thinking about sacrifices and giving what you love as our family sends our daughter off to the Coast Guard, specifically because she feels like it’s something God has asked her to do. And I keep telling people, of course it’s hard but it’s also this crazy privilege to give your absolute best thing to God.
I never thought of that. Makes me think of all of the sacrifices made….not rote sacrifices but meaningful in so many ways. Thank you for sharing!
My great grandmother is someone I don’t have memories of…my mother and grandmother have told me many stories, so I feel like I have memories, but they are not my own. I know little things about her…like how she washed her face with just water and had flawless skin. How she made her dressing (the best dressing in the world…my grandmother still makes it). But most of all, I’ve been told that she was a godly woman, full of faith.
Because of her faith, she raised a faithful son (my grandfather) who married a young girl from a broken and sinful family. They took her in, taught her the gospel, and she (my grandmother) became a woman of faith—not immediately…God’s timing seems to be a lot slower than ours. ;) My great grandmother treated her as a daughter…and had a great influence on her. Because of the influence of my great grandmother, my mother is a faithful woman of God, and she in turn raised me to be. And now I am raising my boys to have their own faith in God as well, and I pray they will grow to be faithful men, loving God and living for Him. To me, that’s how someone’s faith “still speaks.” Through the generations. ❤️
I could also talk about my grandfather (the son of the great grandmother I mentioned above). He has only been gone a couple of years, but his faith is still impacting us. My 5 year old talks often about PawPaw…how PawPaw doesn’t need Christmas presents, because he lives in heaven…how he hopes God will let PawPaw live in our house when we get to heaven…and how he wishes we could go visit him sometimes.
I could tell many stories of his faith, of his imperfect life that pointed to God, of him teaching the gospel to my grandmother, and of his last days on earth where he spent his time talking to his family about Jesus—making sure we would all be together for eternity. One of my favorites is the last Sunday of his life, when I sat by his bed holding a phone that was streaming the worship service from his home congregation. My grandmother sat on her bed, all of us listening. He was tired. I knew he felt terrible. I was worried the phone was bothering or upsetting him. But when I asked if he wanted me to turn it off or turn it down, he furrowed his brow and shook his head. My grandmother said he listened every Sunday. He wanted to worship…he wanted to hear God’s word preached (there’s no telling how many hours of sermons he listened to in his last years after his eyes began to fail him). So we sat there, me trying to sing along through the tears…knowing the words we sang, “they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint,” would become a reality for him soon—to me, it felt bittersweet and inevitable, but to him, it was a comforting promise. His faith in God and His promises was strong, and as I tell the stories of him to my boys, I know his faith will speak through generations, just like my great-grandmother’s has. 💙
Where's the crying emoji when you need it?! Love this, Heather.
I’m crying reading every one of these faith stories. Just like the people we read about in the Bible, stories like these are powerful, moving, & help strengthen our own faith. God knew the value of stories since the beginning of time - how they can shape us, mold us, and lift us up. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of stories passed down, the stories currently happening, and the stories to come.
Thanks for allowing space to share! And I feel like I never understood this vers about Abel’s faith speaking until today. Thank you. 😊
My mother-in-law was a strong woman of faith. Her prayers were so powerful that we knew if she prayed for something, it would happen. She taught us to pay attention to the Holy Spirit bringing someone to mind. She had story after story of people she reached out to "at just the right time."
So, it was profoundly sad when she suffered a frontal lobe disorder for the final 15 years of her life that permanently changed her personality and her ability to acknowledge the God she had so faithfully followed. It was a long, drawn out difficult time for the family that led to a sense of peace and relief when she died.
But my husband learned some critical spiritual lessons during that season, and he is more like her now than he ever was before she got sick. She didn't live to see the transformation of his faith, but her faith lives on through him.
What a hard, beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it, Leigh
I often think of my parents' faith. Marrying after the hardships of the depression and WWII, they loved the Lord. They suffered the tragic loss of my little brother when he was five years old. I think of my mother's grief and how she endured it. I was 13 at the time.
They lived into their nineties and remained faithful. The picture I have of my dad sitting in his rocking chair with an open Bible is familiar to all the family. They still truly inspire me today.
I keep writing "beautiful" under all these stories. But what else is there to say? I'm mostly just bowled over by all these beautiful people of faith. A mentor of my husband's used to say, "Don't forget: People are gallant." And isn't that true?
I think about someone who just recently passed away... he was the father of one my good friends when I got my first job out of school. I was living in a completely new place with no friends and no family... I had visited a handful of churches and felt completely isolated. Then my friend invited me to go to church with him. His parents basically turned me into another member of the family. I'm sure he didn't think anything of it... and I didn't think much of it at the time, but as I've matured, I've realized just how impactful that mentorship and friendship was for me as an earlier follower of Jesus.
I'm grateful for reading everyone's stories here... I have a friend who says that stories are one of the best measures of the Spirit's work in our lives. Our sharing is not just honoring their memory, but bringing glory to Yahweh!
Amen!! In some of the more charismatic churches I’ve visited, they begin healing services with testimonies. The idea is that healing requires faith and stories build faith.
I’m not totally sure how I feel about the healing services but I am 100% on board with telling stories to grow faith!
The text states that Cain brought "an" offering, but that Abel brought an offering of the "firstborn and their fat portions". My thought is that Abel's gift was more pleasing because Abel thought about what would be pleasing and wasn't just checking off a box. It's easy to say God wants our best but how often do we "phone it in" when we are sitting in the pew on Sunday morning? The second part of v. 6 says "He rewards those who seek Him". That requires action on my part and also that I offer my best self to Him, on Sunday and evert other day.
I thought this as well…but then also started thinking about how Hebrews says that Abel offered “by faith.” So I wonder if it was because Abel gave the “firstborn of his flock,” requiring a faith and trust in God that he would continue to provide and bless his flock? Like Jen mentioned: he was willing to give and do ANYTHING for God. And maybe Cain, presenting “some of the land’s produce,” was giving just the left overs…or maybe a small amount…not an offering that would require faith and trust in God? I used to focus on what the offering was….like maybe Cain didn’t obey and offer the “right” thing, but today’s study has me thinking it was more about their heart and faith.
That's kind of where I wound up as well: Cain "made an offering" and Abel made an offering of the "firstlings" of the flock. Did they both give as God had prospered them? Was Cain's not the "firstfruits"? Abel's offering was also sacrificial, not only by giving the best of his flock, but also one that could be sacrificed. Was Cain less diligent in his faith than Abel?
I like how you saw yourself in these verses! Yes, I agree, faith is cultivated in action. I often learn to discern His voice by action.
Such an inspiring faith story and a wonderful example of courage and determination. Thank you for sharing your story.
My faith story is a professor of mine who recently passed away. He battled adversity throughout his life, and yet never wavered in his close relationship with God. He stood up for things that were right, and was willing to speak out, even if his opinion was not popular. He taught a lot of us to see the Bible more clearly, and for that I am forever grateful! Because of his faith in Christ, he carried on and was bold, and that inspires me to do the same.
Love it. Thank you!
My parents show faith by their trust in His plan. Never seem to doubt….whether it was financial, physical or death. Content with His plan. Their faith in what they do every day to help someone.
My friend Victoria showed me incredible heartfelt faith. She showed me how much of my heart God wanted. How could I not really know that????? I didn’t have her challenges in life yet in the years I was blessed to call her friend, I saw how much more God wanted than my spiritual routines. Changed my life…..
I keep going back to Heb 10:39. We are not of those who shrink back, my soul has no pleasure in him.
Perseverance through trials…not shrinking back. I’ve so much to learn!
I love Hebrews 11 and I think it has a lot of power to help us grow our faith, but nothing compares to witnessing a person we know walking boldly in faith. It’s truly empowering.
I like to imagine what it would look like to lay my own genealogy out on paper “Cleo begot David and David begot David Wade. David Wade begot Courtney..” it’s easy to forget the lists of names represent hundreds of years of LIVING. Just daily living, community, contending for the faith.
My great grandfather Cleo was a farmer who lived on top of a mountain in TN. Fell in love with the School Teacher, Mae (yes there was just one school house and one teacher in this rural area). They built a life on that mountain, later his son would buy the school house land and build his house there, and it’s where I would live for 14 years.
Cleo survived WWII working on planes for the Air Force. And then when he returned from war he went back to the simply life. Farming tobacco with his dad, building a family. Until one night there was a Gospel Meeting in town. He decided to go, and take his family. And then he met the Lord. And it makes me want to jump for JOY! Because yes, it changed his life. He went on to leave the family’s money source in tobacco and started raising cattle. But not only that it REVOLUTIONIZED MY LIFE. WHO would I be without Cleo first walking with God? And then David?
Four generations later I’m still remembering what a quiet and gentle spirit looks like because of how I saw my great grandmother complete the daily chores, no complaining, just raising her garden, sowing quilts, and sharing with any friend, family, or church member that was in her life. With a homemade apple pie with every dinner. This is an Acts 2 life. And this is what I desire. To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with my God. 🤍