Leap of Faith for Some; a Short Step for Others

My cousin Ken liked the peas.

Sweet, green sugar snap peas, pod and all, a gift from spring’s loamy soil and summer’s hot days.

He asked me to pick some more for him.

I pulled them from the vine on that sunny warm day, one by one, and put them in a small wicker basket for him to eat.

What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him?

I remember when he stayed with our family when he returned from his mission to Japan, a young man of 21. I was in ninth grade.

He told me how he and his missionary partner were getting ready to board a high-speed train, and he was prompted to stop. The two watched it snake off into the distance. He later learned it had crashed.

He told me how he loved serving the Japanese people. He wanted to help others.

It was in Japan that he developed diabetes, chartering a select club in his family--his brother Ron and his father would later join him.

They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

A few years later, Ken and his family moved to the town where I was studying at a university. He’d been selected as chairman of the audiology department.

I hung out at his house when I needed a break from studying. I’d baby-sit his children and luxuriate in the comfort of a house with a piano, pool table and television set (in contrast to the dusty basement apartment I shared with five roommates).

He and his wife, Kathy, pitied their poor, starving college student cousins and would often invite me, my brother and two sisters over for dinner. We would gratefully fill our tummies. Then we might pick plump, red raspberries from their raspberry patch, or listen to Kathy perform on the piano, or take rides with Ken in his Mustang. We’d play with the children.

Ken always watched out for me. My tired, orange Fiat convertible would die, and he’d restore it to health. When I had trouble at work, he’d listen and cheer me up. When I graduated from college, he suggested I build a house. He found me a lot, a builder and a mortgage.

Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed: for I am thy God: I will strengthen: yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.

It was on my front porch a year or two later that Ken said in an offhand way: It’s harder to see these days. He laughed it off, then said goodbye. He knew his diabetes was closing in on him.

Time passed. His eyesight was much worse. One day he called me and said, “I wanted to drive my Mustang one last time, so I drove it down my street. A car drove by and the driver yelled, ‘What’s wrong with you? You’re on the wrong side of the road!’ I yelled back, ‘I’m sorry, but can’t you tell I’m blind?’ ”

He put the Mustang on blocks for when his young son would be old enough to drive the car.

One day his wife dropped him off at my house after a dialysis session.

We went outside in the warm sun and ate fresh sugar snap peas together.

He told me he how much he would miss his family when he died. And he told me he wanted to be whole again. He could hardly wait for the resurrection.

My phone calls from Ken stopped not long after that sunny, bright day.

He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.

I like springtime. The sun touches the Earth with renewal, and wakes up my garden. My Peruvian lilies have come back from their winter holiday. My rose bushes have sprouted green leaves and full blossoms of deep pink and red, aromatically gracing my fence. It’s a process that ever enchants me.

The Earth seems to be at peace in spring, despite what man might do. Forces are at work than man sometimes doesn’t understand.

For some people, it takes a great leap of faith to believe that spirit and perfect body will be joined again, that we will live after this life and can be with our loved ones and our God.

It’s simple for me--I believe.

I believe that the Savior loves each person ever born on this Earth, and that he can give them help, hope and new life.

I believe that he lifted our sorrows and sins upon himself, a gift to each of us. We need only accept it by repenting and following his instructions to us.

In the front yard, my tangerine tree is a bouquet of spring blossoms today. The blossoms will mysteriously transform into the sweet flesh of the fruit. I can be patient till then. I know the tree will come to fruition, and I will then partake.

*

On Faith is a forum for Orange County clergy and others to offer their views on religious topics of general interest. Submissions, which will be published at the discretion of The Times and are subject to editing, should be delivered to Orange County religion page editor Jack Robinson.