Mom never stops being your mother |
When I was a girl, my father asked me to believe. I never thought much about it, then. Later, after he died, I remembered what he said to me that day years earlier -- and the hundreds of days before and after that. It was only after he died that I really heard his words. Believe. He asked me to believe, but he never said, and I never asked. Believe in what?
Did he mean that I should believe in God? Was he asking me to believe in myself? I wonder, if at the time, I might have thought he meant to believe in what he said to me, his lessons, his words of wisdom. Maybe he was asking me to have faith in whatever I choose to do?
Believe is a powerful word. It's a word that requires everything without proof of anything. The strict definition, according to the dictionary, is this, "to accept (a statement, supposition, or opinion) as true."
Even though my father is long passed away from me, I can see his face in my mind's eye. I've given a lot of thought to my dad's request. Here's what I think he meant: Everything. Believe in everything. Everything good and possible. Maybe even the impossible.
My father taught me to make life the best you can make it. If life feels wrong, believe in yourself and have the courage to change it. Have faith. He taught me to have faith in myself. Faith in God. Faith in something bigger than me. Faith in my dreams, making my dreams come true. It's never too late, never give up.
I believe in good. Even in the face of hate, terror, hardship, loss and suffering, faith in good triumphs -- maybe not today or tomorrow, but when you believe, good happens.
Believe. It's not for everyone. It's only for the brave, the faithful, the patient person. The "You" person. The unselfish, thoughtful, caring person. I believe in you.
That's what's on my mind today. Merry Christmas. Are you Being Grand? Happy thoughts!