We Still Choose Faith

How can we choose faith when science and medicine show us there is little or no hope? In what or whom do we place our faith? And how can that faith make a difference?

These questions were laid on the table the moment Harold was diagnosed with stage IV melanoma, a statistically fatal cancer. But we had reason to believe Harold’s mission on earth was not yet complete. Individually we wrestled with it, Harold and I prayed about it, then we discussed and prayed about it as a family. We decided to choose faith. Faith that our Heavenly Father was aware of our situation, and that if we continued to act in faith, his promised blessings would come. We knew it would be a test.

As a parent you never want to put your children’s faith in God in jeopardy. Yet we need opportunities to exercise that faith so it can grow. Sometimes those opportunities come when we are very young and they provide a foundation for the tests we will face later.

My mother often reminded me of a faith promoting story from my early childhood. She was hurrying about, trying to get our family ready for church and we were almost late. But she couldn’t find the buckle to my little sister's shoe. Tension mounted as she frantically searched the house, calling my brothers to enlist their help. I kept trying to get her attention, tugging at her, calling her name. Instead she put me off, planning to respond as soon as she found the buckle. 

Finally I persisted enough for her to listen. “Mommy, we just need to ask Heavenly Father. He will help us find the buckle.” It was the natural response from a little girl who had just been taught she had a Heavenly parent who hears and answers prayers. Humbled, my mother stopped. We knelt in prayer, and by the end of the prayer she knew exactly where to find the buckle.

That story came to mind years later when one of my children lost something important. Christian had just started wearing a dental retainer. He had to take it out to eat, so during lunch he discretely wrapped it in a napkin and set it on his school lunch tray. It was only after he turned in his dirty tray and left the cafeteria that he remembered his retainer and sought help. The principal kindly helped him sort through the cafeteria trash but they could not find it. I only learned of the incident when I picked him up after school. Christian's normally cheerful face was downcast as he walked slowly toward the car. I watched him approaching but he wouldn't look at me until he got in the car and buckled up. Then he faced me and explained. 

I had a car full of kids and probably had piano students waiting at home, but at that moment my mother’s story came into my mind with such clarity that I simply asked, “Christian, do you have the faith that Heavenly Father can help you find that retainer if it’s possible to be found?” He said yes.

In retrospect I’ve wondered how I dared put his tender faith to the test in this way. The odds of finding the retainer were remote as I figured it may have gone through the food disposal; yet I had been prompted to ask the question and did. I took the rest of my children home then Christian and I offered a prayer and headed back to the school. 

By now all the trash of the day was in the dumpster outside the building. Christian had to climb in and hand out the bags one by one. Of course there were parents going in and out of the building as we picked through the trash. They gave us puzzled looks, but we just kept searching. Christian finally pulled out the last bag. We opened it and again made our way through the soggy mess of napkins, food, milk cartons, and wrappers. Then, near the bottom of the bag, it just appeared. My son’s faith had been rewarded.

There have been many opportunities for our family to exercise faith individually and collectively in the years since. I had my own battle with cancer eight years ago. I was sustained by the faith and prayers of my family and many of you. I can remember the feeling of being carried, even cradled as I underwent surgeries, the chemotherapy, the radiation and reconstructive surgery. We prayed that my life would be spared and it was . . . but only because it was Heavenly Father’s will for me at that time. Apparently he still had things for me to do.

What about Harold?

How can we still choose faith when science and medicine show us there is little or no hope? In what or whom are we placing our faith? And how can that faith make a difference?

We can still choose faith because we are not putting our faith in science or medicine. We are putting our faith in God. We are humbly grateful however, for the amazing blessings both science and medicine have offered our family and believe that knowledge is also inspired by God.

Our faith in God has grown with our understanding of His plan for us here on earth. He is very aware of our lives as evidenced by countless promptings and blessings received through the Spirit. He has an earthly mission for each of us to fulfill, if we will. Faith in God includes actively striving to understand that mission, and with Christ’s help, doing it. When we have fulfilled that mission, He will call us home. If God still has work for Harold to do, he will be healed in whatever way our Creator chooses. If he has fulfilled his mission, he will be warmly welcomed home.

Do we risk anything by choosing faith? I have come to understand that choosing faith does not guarantee the outcome or the timing we want. God sees the bigger picture and may instead do what is best for us. Choosing faith doesn't exempt us from the challenges of life. Instead it gives us power to get through them and grow. But choosing faith absolutely guarantees the quality of the life we live. 

Choosing faith has granted us genuine happiness. It has provided us with peace, and it has surrounded us with love. We still choose faith.