Believe

"In the ocean of life, Faith is the anchor of the soul."

My mother bought me a bookmark with this saying on it, oh, about 15 years ago. It has hung from the rearview mirror of my cars since then, and it is subtle reminder about what it means to believe. Throughout the years, reading it has brought me to tears, and in some instances I rose a triumphant fist in the air as I gratefully thought I had it all figured out.

Paige and Tony started Vacation Bible School yesterday morning. This "camp" is known as "awesome!", "excellent!", a "blast!" from the kids who have attended it, and so last summer I knew that they'd be going this summer. In the two days they have been there, I have heard the word "sin" and "Jesus" and "snake" and "faith" from their mouths more than ever before.

As we drove home from school today, Tony asked a magnificent question.

"Was Jesus a boy or a girl, or a boy-girl?" I kind of laughed, but then I saw his face in the rearview mirror and discovered that he had offered a legitimate question.

"He was a boy. Why do you ask?"

"Well, because he had a beard and moustache, but he had long hair and wore a dress."

Hmmmm... I told him that was the fashion back then, and then we got in a discussion about what fashion meant... but that's a different blog post.

It was quiet for a few seconds and Paige, being the astute reader that she is, said: "In the ocean of life, Faith is the anchor of the soul." I glanced back at her and said, "Did you learn that at school today," completely blanking on the bookmark that has been my companion in the car for all these years. And she pointed to the bookmark. I smiled.

"Can I have it?"

"What?"

"The thing hanging from your mirror."

I said no and went on to explain to her that it would be in every car I drive for the rest of my life, along with my guardian angel and a cut of one of Grandpa Schryver's flannel shirts. And she started to cry.

"Why are you crying?" I asked.

"Because I want to copy it down on a piece of paper."

"Oh, I'll write it on a piece of paper when we get in the house."

It was quiet until we got home. She walked into the house, dug through stray papers and handed me a post-it that my sister had made up after Jeff's funeral. It has a head-shot of Jeff with the words: Jeff would have appreciated your generosity. Paige handed the paper to me along with a pen.

"Write it down."

I sat at the kitchen table with tears running down my cheeks and I wrote beneath the picture of my beloved brother: "In the ocean of life, Faith is the anchor of the soul."

Paige copied it onto her own piece of paper that said, "To Mommy. Love, Paige" with a picture of a heart surrounding it. She folded it up and handed it to me, asking, "What does it mean exactly?" And I gave her a huge hug and said, "It means believe, Paige. Believe that God is always present even when you think He's not."

And with all the faith of the world, she said, "Okay."

And I raised a triumphant fist into the air and said a silent "thanks."