Faith
By guest writer Brenda Atkinson
When my grandson, Charlie, was seven, he received Christ as his Savior, and then made a habit of going to the altar after the Pastor’s sermons. Concerned about his frequent trips, one day, my daughter, Traci, asked if there was anything she could help him pray about, and what was he praying about. Basically, he told her he prays for his church, for his school, and for the people in heaven, that they’re having a good time.
Charlie’s Great Granny, my mother, Emmie Welborn, always kept a cookie jar filled for the little ones who came to see her. When she passed away, one of Traci’s children said, “I hope Granny didn’t take the cookie jar with her.”
She left the cookie jar, and she also left a legacy of love: love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; love your neighbor as yourself; consider others more important than yourself; work hard; serve with gladness; love freely; use wisely that which God has given you; be faithful; keep your promises; forgive, forgive, forgive; trust God; be like Jesus; respect, help, and submit to your husband; sacrifice for your children. That was the story of my mother’s life.
If I could say only two words about my mother it would be that …She loved. She loved her husband. She loved her children. She loved her grandchildren. She loved her great grandchildren. She loved her neighbors. She loved her church. She loved her Pastor and his wife. She loved her Lord.
I am the youngest of 14 children. Yes, that’s right, 14. I am the youngest by about five or 10 minutes, because, you see, I have a twin sister, Linda. My mother had only seven of those fourteen. She married a divorced man who already had seven children. He was seventeen years older than she was, and his oldest child was about five years younger than she was. Take yourself back to about 1920. Can you imagine being 17 and marrying a man who already had seven children? By the time Linda and I came along, most of the first set of children were married and had children of their own, which really made them seem like aunts and uncles to us.
My sister Grace said that she remembers the cold rainy night that Linda and I were born at home. She was about eleven at that time. She said what she remembers the most is hearing someone say, “There are two of them.” There were no ultrasounds back then. She told us that they put us in two dresser drawers for our beds that night. Faith is the dependence of a newborn.
When Linda and I were preschoolers, Mama went to work in a sewing factory. We were cared for by our older sisters, and, when they were in school, Daddy took care of us, since he was a farmer. I can vaguely remember sitting and playing on blankets, while he cut wood, or did some other chores. Early on, we became two shy little girls. Being twins, everyone wanted to make over us, and our family delighted in showing us off. We got to where we would hide under the house if we saw someone drive up. Back then, a lot of the old country homes were built low on the ground, and, sometimes, the floor joists would be only a few inches off the ground, sometimes higher. The houses were built on rock or brick pillars with no underpinning around the outside edges. We were pulled out from under there more than once. We never liked all of the attention being on us, which is what happened when relatives came.
If you grew up in the country, you were raised, not reared, and you were raised to work hard.
There were chores for the youngest to the oldest: wood to be sawed or cut and split, cows to be milked, yards to be swept, animals to be fed, eggs to be gathered each day, water to be gotten from the well, wood to be brought in for heat, house to be cleaned. Do you remember how milk tasted after the cows had had their fill of bitter weeds or green onions?
With Daddy being a farmer, there were always crops to be tended. In the Spring – planting and hoeing or weeding. In the Summer – gathering okra, watermelons, tomatoes, squash, cantaloupes, cucumbers, butterbeans, peas. We got 50 cents a bushel — a great incentive for us to work. In the Fall – gathering peanuts, turnip greens, and sweet potatoes; burning the fields off for the next year. In the Winter – shucking corn for the animals to eat.
When we did have time to play, we had our jacks, our mud pies, jump ropes (actually these were Daddy’s ropes for the horses), and old boys’ bicycles. There was no roller-skating in the country. There were no swimming pools – we went to the creek. After a big rain, we had great gullies with muddy water in which we loved to play. One of our favorites was running all over the large pastures. We had playhouses – made out of boards and cans, or whatever we could find.
We didn’t have a lot, but, looking back, I consider myself really blessed. I think God has a purpose for giving the parents that He gives to us, and also the environment in which we grow up. I think it’s what shapes us for the ministry that He has for each one of us. I think He gave me all of those experiences to prepare me for working with little children, something that’s dear to my heart. Today, at my table in the kitchen, are two benches for my grandchildren to sit on for Sunday lunch. I want them to experience what Nana ate on when she was little.
My Mother and Daddy were not perfect, but they loved us, and provided for us. They were not Christians, but they took us to church most Sunday mornings— that is, until Mama got a new Chevy in ’56. She learned to drive that year, and Daddy quit going to church, for what reason I do not know. From that time on, it was Mama who took us to church, back to her home church down next to Pendleton. As a child, it seemed like it took hours to get there and back.
On Saturdays, Mama would line us kids up on the back porch. Do you remember back porches? She would line us up to wash our hair for Sunday morning. There was no shower out there, but there was a well, and there was a wash pan. She wanted us all clean for Sunday.
Twins Brenda and Linda
By the time Linda and I were 12, I was beginning to think about life, and my purpose for life. There was a great longing in me, thinking – Life has got to be more than this. What am I here for? The seed was being planted, and God was about to give the increase….
It was a Sunday morning. It was a revival. The scripture was Isaiah 53:5 that the evangelist used: He was wounded for our transgressions. He was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement for our peace was upon Him. And by His stripes we are healed. Linda and I both said yes to Jesus that morning. And I remember that like it was yesterday, but it was 48 years ago.
Faith is not a vague hope of a happy hereafter; it’s an assurance of heaven, based on my trust in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ as punishment for my sins.
Faith is trust in the One who has explained Himself in a Person, Jesus Christ, and in an historical record, the Bible.
The following week, Mama got saved at work. A friend from church, who also worked at the same place with her, led her to the Lord. The three of us, together, went down for baptism the following Sunday. I was now on the right path to learning my purpose in life. I would love to say that Daddy came to see us get baptized, but he did not.
Daddy never went back to church – for what reason I never knew. From the time I received Christ, I began to pray for Daddy. I could pray, but I could never bring myself to verbally confront him. All of us children had a great respect for him, but almost to the point of being afraid of him—not that we thought he would hurt us, but rather reject us. Since that time, I have learned that faith is hanging onto God while confronting, in love, at the risk of rejection.
Back when I was in school, kids started to high school in the 8th grade. Mama chose this time for us to start going to a church closer home. Linda and I had friends there from grade school, but, as we started to high school, we were still shy, fearful of life beyond home, and growing up in a highly controlled home, not on my Mother’s part, but my Daddy’s.
Being in his sixties, and with the hard life that he had lived, Daddy had a very different mindset from most Dads of our friends. Perhaps he didn’t want us to make the same mistakes he made in life.
As teenagers, we were not allowed: to wear shorts, even during gym; to go to parties, unless it was church; to participate in extra school activities; or to date. Needless to say, our shy personalities were only enhanced.
Faith is refusing the thinking that God loves and cherishes the popular, attractive, talented Christian more than He loves and cherishes plain me. If I was secure anywhere during my teen years, it was in knowing that I had a Savior who loved me and cared for me. I was thrilled to know I didn’t need a priest to get to the Father, that I had direct access to Him. I think a part of maturing as a Christian is wrestling with the Lord – trying to make things right, that deep down we really know to be wrong. Teenagers have a deep need to be accepted, to have a social life, and I was no exception. In the 10th grade, Linda and I began to date without Daddy knowing. I would lie in bed at night and talk to the Lord about this, trying my best to make it right. I lied to my Dad in order to date. Faith is letting go of my demands that someone else change, and looking to God for the changes He sees I need.
My biggest hurts in life have been the deaths of those close to me. When Linda and I were sophomores in high school, our sister Ann’s husband was accidentally killed in a hunting accident a week before Christmas. Ann had a two-year-old daughter and was expecting another child. She moved back home with us and began taking us to church on Sunday evenings and Wednesday evenings. Mama remained at home with Daddy, except for Sunday mornings. She was always the one to sacrifice, whether it was for her husband or her children.
Our senior year, right before school was out, our Training Union Class was going to have a hayride. Linda and I both needed a date. A friend of ours set us up with two guys who worked at the Dixie Store.
The very next year, in June, I was married to Wayne Atkinson. What attracted me to him, besides his good looks?! Matthew 7:16 says, “You can tell what they are by what they do.” He was a man of God. As a teen, I had always prayed for a Christian husband. I wanted someone who loved the Lord, someone who would go to church with me, and someone who would help me rear children in a Christian atmosphere. He truly is a person who does all the good he can, by all the means he can, in all the ways he can, in all the places he can, at all the times he can, to all the people he can, as long as he can. He has a servant’s heart, and, after 41 years, I still love him, and I thank the Lord for such a man.
Yes, we do disagree a lot – he’s a pack rat – I’m not. He’s patient – I’m not. He’s slow to speak – I’m not. He does not get in a hurry – I do. He loves to save money — I don’t. We disagree over little, silly, non-important things, mostly.
Wayne and I are on a journey of becoming more Christ-like, and that lasts a lifetime. Faith is trusting that I will become more loving and patient, not by my own effort, but by trusting His life in me, to produce those qualities. Faith is resting in His love, His presence, His provisions.
We had not been married long when Wayne decided he wanted to go to Clemson for an engineering degree – it had been a dream of his. We began to pray, and God provided the way. He had been out of school for three years and had to pass the college entrance exam - God provided! We needed money – God provided.
Faith is confidence in God when money is running out, not rolling in. We had to remind ourselves of that quite a lot, especially when we found out I was ‘with child’ – no insurance. God provided! And Wayne even took one semester off from school to let me stay home with our new daughter. She thanked him 2- ½ years later by attending his graduation.
Wayne had realized his dream, and now it was my turn. What did I want to be? A stay-at-home Mom.
I wanted what my Mother was never able to do – stay at home and nurture my children.
Rick came along nine months after Wayne’s graduation.
I loved everything about being a domestic engineer: keeping the house clean, cooking for my family, washing and ironing, cutting the grass, carpooling the children with neighbors, watching my children grow and being able to do things with them, volunteering at school.
But I missed having what we now call my ‘Wal-Mart money.’ I began to keep children in my home. I could still realize my dream and nurture other children, also. During those years, I kept three little boys, one of them my sister Grace’s grandson. As I have already stated, my biggest hurts in life have been during the death of a loved one. Chris died in a car accident one summer morning on the way to my house. I was devastated, and began to ask that question that we all have probably asked at one time or another – “Why, Lord? Why a precious little two year old?” How we handle our grief is the key to overcoming grief.
Looking back now, I think the ‘why’ question was a part of the testing and maturing of my relationship with God. It’s a test of faith – Will I continue to love, trust, obey, and worship when I don’t understand? Faith is knowing that God is at work, even in the worst of times, to give us the best of His Grace to meet our deepest needs.
With my children in school every day until almost 3:00 p.m., I went to work at a church kindergarten and absolutely loved working with children in a Christian atmosphere. I was home with my own children after school, and during the summer. It was the perfect job for me!
In no time at all, I had teenagers. Perhaps because of my own strict childhood days of growing up in a highly controlled home, I became an overprotective mother. I allowed myself to become a fear-driven person, expecting perfection from my children. Fear is a self-imposed prison that will keep you from becoming what God intends for you to be. We need to guide our children, yet allow them to make mistakes and learn from them.
The Lord teaches us through others at times. I think He gave me our firstborn to teach me what unconditional love is all about, and our second child to teach me to learn to laugh at myself – not to take life so seriously. Faith is waiting patiently for God to make me more Christ-like through people and circumstances when I want Him to give me a quick, preferably painless fix.
For years, the still shy me was content to let Wayne lead out in ministry—after all, he was the educated one! I was asked to teach the college and career class! Horrors – I had not even been to college! It was like, ‘Lord, I want to say yes, but I’m not good enough for that.’ I prayed – I went. That class became such a joy to me and Wayne also. It’s such a joy for me today to see those same young people as parents, and faithfully bringing their children to church. Faith is expecting God to accomplish miracles through insignificant me with my five loaves and two fishes. Faith is not expecting anything from what I can do, but expecting everything from God, who is able.
I was still at Siloam Christian School during the week, and teaching first graders on Sunday morning at Rock Springs Baptist Church, when I was asked by our Pastor to become the Preschool/Children’s Director. I gave him every excuse why he didn’t want me for the job, but agreed to go home and pray about it. One Sunday morning, Pastor David talked about how Jesus used a donkey. The donkey provided Jesus a ride on Palm Sunday. And Pastor David said, “If the Lord can use a donkey, don’t you think He can use you?” That was my answer – if Jesus could use a donkey, He could use a shy little country girl.
I think my ordinary, humble parents God gave me helped to shape me for that ministry. I think my passion for working with children helped to shape me for that ministry. And I think that God worked in mysterious ways to prepare me for that work. The joy of the Lord is my strength. I can’t even walk without Him holding my hand.
I prayed for wisdom and discernment. I prayed for workers – here a worker – there a worker – we needed workers everywhere, the way our church was growing, and, you know what – God always provided.
Pastor David would not let me be that shy introvert. He had me doing things I never thought I could do. I’ll always be grateful for my Pastor’s confidence in me and for his encouragement. He even had me teaching at associational meetings on how to have a good preschool and children’s program. Faith is acknowledging God as the giver of abilities when success is mine. Faith is realizing that what God is going to do through me will be on the basis of a miracle, not in Brenda’s power.
Not only have my biggest hurts in life been the deaths of loved ones, but also watching loved ones suffer.
In 1992, my Dad passed away at the age of 96. About two years before his death, Daddy suffered from mini brain strokes and hardening of the arteries. One night, when he was very confused, perhaps hallucinating, he put a bullet through the chair that my mother was sitting in at the time. We had to put Daddy in a nursing home, for his good, and Mama’s also.
There is nothing any harder to me than for children to see their parents have to leave the home they love and go to a strange place to live, no matter how good it is. But God can bless in bad situations. It was during this time that Daddy admitted his need for Jesus. It was there in that nursing home that Linda and I got to do things with Daddy that we had never done before. We quoted scripture with him. He would quote Psalm 23 for us. We would sing Love Lifted Me together. We would sing Jesus Loves Me together.
I believe Daddy had finally made peace with the Lord. He had learned to lean on Jesus. He had given his heart to Jesus but never got to have believer’s baptism. Faith is believing that the persevering seemingly unanswered prayer of many years is not an exercise in futility, but the means by which God is accomplishing His great eternal purposes in His time. Faith is recognizing that God is the Lord of time when my idea of timing doesn’t agree with His.
Emmie Welborn
I resigned my position as Preschool/Children’s Director the last of 2001 to help take care of my Mother, who was 92 and not able to take care of herself. The last thing I wanted was for my Mother to have to leave her home for a nursing facility. Each morning, I would get her bathed and dressed for the day and see that her needs were met.
I had only seven months with my Mother until she suffered a hip fracture. The doctor told us she needed 24-hour care and therapy, for about three months in a nursing facility.
We make our plans, but God is the One who directs our path. My Mother passed away after being at the nursing center for only three weeks. God called her home on my daughter Traci’s birthday, the last day of July. Faith is drawing comfort from the knowledge that, when I weep, He weeps with me. Faith is believing in the midst of suffering and need that God will be enough, that He will help me to make it through.
Faith is ceasing to worry, leaving the future to the God who controls the future. Chuck Swindoll says that worry is the subtle enemy of simple faith. Worry has no place in the Christian life.
Jesus, himself, admonishes us who wish to live by simple faith to…not be anxious for your life, not be anxious for your needs, not be anxious for tomorrow.
Faith is letting go of that which God is asking me for. This does not mean I am to stop caring, but it does mean I can’t do it for someone else. This does not mean that I cut myself off; it’s the realization that I can’t control another. To let go is not to help, but to allow learning from natural consequences. It’s to admit powerlessness, which means that the outcome is not in my hands. It’s not to try to change or blame another; I can change only myself. It’s not to care for, but to care about. It’s not to fix, but to be supportive. It’s not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being. It’s not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes; it’s allowing others to affect their own outcomes. It’s not to be protective; it’s to permit another to face reality. It’s not to deny, but to accept. It’s not to nag, scold or argue; it’s to search out my own shortcomings and to correct them. It’s not to adjust everything to my desires; it’s to take each day as it comes and to cherish the moment. It’s not to criticize and regulate anyone; it’s to become what I dream to be. It’s not to regret the past; it’s to grow and live for the future. It’s to fear less and love more.
Faith is the secret of triumph in the Christian’s life.
So, how do we make ourselves worry free? Each morning, as we get up to face the day, we need to tell the Lord: “Today, my desire is to seek Your will, Lord. Whatever happens, whatever I encounter, may I be sensitive to Your presence and depend on Your strength. May your Kingdom agenda be my top priority. Lord, I give this day to you.”
Faith is remembering and believing I am precious in His sight, His beloved.
Remember that life is a test, and that Faith is something God will prove genuine by testing.