Be The Answer

Be the Answer by Marie Folie

There was a time in my life when I was ferociously religious. God had laid a path for me, and I was fully inclined to follow. In fact, there was a brief moment in my youth when I had been wholly determined to become a nun and devote myself to Christ. I later decided to start a family. Realizing that I wanted my life to be devoted in ways beyond silent contemplation and prayer, I decided to be a preacher. So, what’s the problem? For starters, I grew up Catholic, and the Catholic church makes no place for women priests. So there, at the tender age of 18, in a church that was over 300 years old, my hopes and dreams of serving Christ, at least through my religion, were crushed.

I’ve always been a believer in things bigger than myself and have often told people that “God always blesses me in advance because God knows I will take care of others.” And such was my life, for a long time. I worked hard, I did my best, I gave thanks, and I prospered. I never turn a blind eye to those in need and I taught my children to be the same way. But time wears on people. Resentment is real. Stress from life and providing for a growing family, COVID-19, loss, death, pain, and struggling to manage a financial burden in an economy not designed for success, all weigh down on us and those we love. So,it should come as no surprise, that when life fails us, we start to expect the failure. We look out for the bad, rather than look forward to the good. We start to wonder if the good things in our life are tricks, rather than blessings. Mere distractions from the horrors to come. And so it was that my life had taken a turn, and while I still believed in a higher purpose than myself, and I still helped others where I could, the disillusionment with my beliefs grew, my God was gone, and I began to lose my faith.

This changed for me last Thursday night. My husband and I were in bed watching the Max show “The Young Pope” and as the last scene filtered out, I reached for my phone and logged into Facebook. I saw the first and only post I would see that night. A woman was asking for guidance and non-directly asking for help, as she and her 1-year-old son had not eaten all day. My initial thought, the one that drove me, was that somewhere near me, there was a one-year-old child who was going to go to bed hungry, as it was already past 9 p.m., and I was within my means and within my abilities to help. Now I am presently unemployed and seeking a job, but we had food, and this family didn’t. That being said, the doubt I had grown over the years, weaseled its way into the back of my mind, and I ran straight to the comments to see what others had to say about the situation. Some had suggestions of means to make money.

“Can’t you get a job?”

“Have you donated plasma?”

“Have you tried local churches?”

“There are shelters that will feed you if you go with your son early enough.”

“Hey, maybe tomorrow afternoon I can get some food together if you can pick it up?” She couldn’t.

“I can maybe order some essentials to your house tomorrow when I get paid?”

And then there were the ugly comments we’ve all grown used to hearing, the ones I won’t dignify by repeating them. The comments were generally helpful and most of them were leading towards kindness, but they all had one glaring similarity, none of their suggestions would feed this baby, tonight.

I sent the woman a private message asking for her address, and I got up to pack some food. I was angry. I was frustrated. I whined and complained internally about how this woman needed help and why couldn’t anyone else help her. I thought of changing my mind, and my insides turned and screamed at the idea of this baby trying to sleep hungry. So, I told my husband I was leaving, I packed the food and waited. The address came fairly quickly, and as luck would have it, she lived across town, a full 18-minute ride away. I fumed, but I still got in the car, my husband following me out and ultimately driving me to the destination. To add to my absolute pleasure in the situation, there was traffic and a large amount of construction making the trip longer. I apologized to my husband for pulling him out of bed, but he just shrugged and smiled, adjusted to my antics by this point.

When we arrived, I saw the woman as she walked out, pregnant, in her jammies. Her baby was sitting on the steps and waiting. She was kind, she was grateful. I had done the good thing, and we left. As we turned back onto the main road, I looked up and away from the construction and I saw a billboard that said, “GOD ANSWERS PRAYERS.” I scoffed, nudged my husband, and read it aloud to him, “Hey, God answers prayers!” I mocked. He smiled. I mumbled to myself, “God doesn’t answer anything, I’m the one who…” My body was flooded with warmth, and my eyes filled with tears. I continued in my head, I’m the one who brought her food.

I thought back to the moments before. I thought of the chance that I’d check Facebook and only read one post. I thought of the feelings and drive I had to help her, this woman I’ve never spoken to before, and likely won’t again. I thought of her child who I never met and never would. I thought of how there was no way I would have slept had I not helped her, and I smiled. I was the answer. At that moment, in my husband’s car, overwhelmed with love and faith, I thought of how the world had come together to send me to a woman in need. I remembered how I had always been blessed in advance so that I could help others. I am still unemployed, but I had what she needed, and I gave it freely because I have spent my life so blessed, it always seems natural to bestow some of that generosity with others. I found my faith. This was a long-winded way of saying it, but sometimes we are so busy looking for the answers, that we forget that we are one.

The tiniest of changes, the smallest random acts of kindness, they are all answered prayers. Whether someone manifested their dreams, prayed to a god they believe in, asked their ancestors for help, or even just spoke out to the winds that they may carry their concerns away and bring back blessings, all hopeful thoughts and wishes are prayers, and we discount the fact that we may be the answer to one.

I wanted to share my experience, and my story, because life has been hard. We are living in a post-pandemic world where people are still dying of the same virus that took most of my family from me and almost took my life. We are living in a month where student loans come due and people can’t find jobs. Where everyone is hiring, but no one is putting people in the roles they have opened. In a world where healthcare is a privilege held by the few and lost to the many. Many can’t make ends meet, and there are many more whose ends are so far apart they can’t even wave from afar. Times are bad and life is cruel, but faith endures. I had started to lose mine. It’s easy to see unfairness and to ask why you always have to be the answer to someone else’s prayers, while yours go unanswered. WE need to realize that the ability to answer other’s prayers is sometimes our answer. Sometimes we are so consumed by the goodness we could have, that we need to be sent a reminder of what we had all along.

I used to say when asked what I thought God was, that God is the drive within each of us to do the right thing. It is the feeling we get that urges us to help, the drive to pull over after an accident, the will to hold the door for the elderly, and the urge to hand over a dollar to the woman who is a dollar short for groceries. Inside each of us is the capacity to be good people, and to help our fellow man. Today I invite you to take a look at your life. Acknowledge your blessings. Whatever your faith or beliefs, realize that there is goodness in the world. There is something to be proud of, and something to have faith in. Sometimes the ability to answer another person’s prayer is the greatest gift we could ask for, and exactly what we need to find our faith. Today, as you are out enjoying life, remember to whisper your prayers into the world, and if called to do so, I encourage you to be someone’s answer.