Preface: I started writing this post a few months ago.
I had a good weekend with Ash. We spent Friday night elbow deep in washing, blow drying, and braiding his hair back into cornrows, which, surprisingly, he was more tolerant of than usual. I’m no beautician and prefer not to spend time managing hair, not even my own, but his hair needed tending to. It was three (or four) hours before I finally slicked a dab of Shine’ n Jam on the end of the last braid and coiled his curly hair around my finger. Afterward, I put him to bed and watched 227 reruns while unraveling my two-month-old knotless braids. I had an early Saturday morning appointment to get my hair washed, blow dried, and curled.
Saturday after I returned from Corktown in Detroit, my hair bouncy and perfectly curled, I picked up Ash, and we headed to my mother’s house for a little Mother’s Day time.
Sunday, we woke up, got dressed, and headed to church. On the way back, we listened to music as we typically do. Ash has a short but growing list of favorite gospel artists. I would say Tye Tribbett is at the very top of the list. But this time, when we were more than halfway home, I turned on a song by Deitrick Haddon that Ash was once quite fond of, ‘Gorilla Faith.’ The song’s hook rhythmically repeats, “I got gorilla faith….” I love watching Ash bobbing his head, singing, and enjoying music in the rearview.
We pulled into the garage, and Ash unbuckled himself, popped his head into the front seat, and said, “Why do they keep saying dang?” We have listened to this song probably six hundred and forty-three times, and I never realized he didn’t understand exactly what they were saying. I chuckled and said, “They aren’t saying dang. Gorilla dang doesn’t even make sense, Ash. They are saying faith. I got gorilla faith. You know you aren’t even allowed to say the word dang, so why would I let you listen to a song that says that silly?!” He laughed at the thought of his misunderstanding and then gave me a singy “ooooooohhh, faaaaith.” Then he paused and said, “Faith? What is faith?”
And there we were back into a Sunday or vacation bible school moment. Some Sundays before Easter, he had asked me about the “the T thingy” on the front of the church. So, we sat in the church parking lot and talked about it. In the simplest way I could, I explained “the T thingy” and why we celebrate Easter. That evening at his request, I showed him a necklace my mom had gotten me when I was a little girl–a gold rope chain with a small gold cross pendant with a rose gold Jesus on it. Before he said his prayers that night, he told me he wanted to “hug Jesus.” Now, if you ask Ash why we celebrate Easter, he readily says, “‘Cause Jesus died but then came alive again.”
So, as we sat in the car in the garage, we talked again. I said, “Well, you know how you pray every night to God?” He confidently said, “Yes.” I replied, “Have you ever seen God?” He said, “No.” I said, “Well, that is what faith is. It’s saying I don’t see Him, but I still know and believe He is there.” He gave me another sweet, singy, “Ooooh.”
I explained the song, “So when Deitrick is saying he has ‘gorilla faith’; he is saying I have big, strong faith.” Shortly after, in an attempt to see if any of our conversation about faith stuck, as Ash played around outside near Brian, I casually asked him to “tell daddy what faith is.” He slyly smiled and said, “It’s I don’t see it, but I know it.” And that made me (and Brian) smile too.
As the day went on, he kept repeating it, “I have gorilla faith.” And that evening, he picked up his favorite dinosaur toy, a Baryonyx, and yelled to me from the family room, “Mommy, I have Baryonyx faith. I don’t see it, but I know it.” And I laughed at how proud he declared this.
Faith was a big part of my upbringing and still billows in my daily existence. As I grow older, I realize that my blueprint was a compilation of many consonant habits, patterns, and routines.
I remember very regularly going to church a couple of times a week growing up, many times a couple of times on any given Sunday, once in the mornings for regular service and then again in the evenings for some special service. That “couple of times a week” doesn’t even include the Saturday early afternoon choir rehearsals preparing for a concert.
I remember years of my mom and dad faithfully serving at church. My mom headed auxiliary departments, occasionally leading songs in the choir or speaking a sermon and helping to cook and serve the meals for those “special” evening services. And my dad led praise service every Sunday morning and served on the deacon board.
My mom and one of her sister girlfriends hand-made all the choir robes for the children’s choir. My mom also picked up adults regularly who didn’t have transportation to make it to church or kids whose parents weren’t churchgoers but obliged the involvement of wholesome fellowship for their little ones.
I remember our family road trips down south–hours and hours of great gospel music–from the Clark Sisters to John P. Kee (who is still one of my favorites because “Rain on Us” is legendary). I remember my dad faithfully gathering the family in a circle to hold hands in our bungalow’s living room before said family trips to pray for safe journeying. I remember him faithfully, kneeling on the side of his bed every night, bowing his head, and quietly praying. And all the years he sang in a gospel quartet group because the crowd favorite he sang, “I’ve Got Jesus,” is also legendary.
I remember my mom’s favorite bible verse, Proverbs 22:6, “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart.” She gleaned this scripture so much that I remember my older sister as a young girl writing it out in black calligraphy on heavy white paper and putting it in a gold frame as a gift to her. (We were artsy.)
And as I think about all these things, I realize that my parents never ever “forced” any beliefs on me (at least it never felt that way); they just very naturally and wholeheartedly lived theirs. And all of it gracefully imprinted on my heart and grew in its own right.
Because of my parents, I realize that the best way to teach faith and being faithful is to unassumingly live it. Example is a great teacher.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. It’s so beautiful watching itself gracefully imprint on my little boy’s heart, and I pray that God always is with him.
Epilogue: Since I wrote this post, Tye Tribbett has come out with a new single called “New.” I’ll just say that Ash won’t let me take it off repeat. We are up to our nine hundredth and seventy-eighth stream of the song. Tye Tribbett is definitely Ash’s favorite artist!
