BUCKING THE SYSTEM: GRANDMOTHER'S FAITH ELIMINATES MYTH OF GOOD LUCK

Ma Dear's birthday was Wednesday, and I and my family are headed down to Walls, Miss., today to celebrate with her.

Ma Dear's birthday is a big deal to us because, as I've said before, she's the family matriarch. We had planned to celebrate last weekend, but she wouldn't allow it because she said it's bad luck to celebrate a birthday before it actually arrives.

I remember when my grandmother never talked about luck. She said we didn't need it when we had God to write our life's plan for us. She figured as long as we listened to Him and pointed our free will in His general direction, we'd be OK.

I've always been in awe of Ma Dear's faith. So much so, in fact, that a preacher could tell me something and I might have to do a little research, but if Ma Dear said it, it was just like God himself speaking to me from a burning bush.

Everything about Ma Dear's life made me believe she knew what she was talking about. I've never seen a person who more openly expressed and lived her beliefs, and even as a child, I recognized the real thing when I saw it. Besides, Ma Dear has had many hard knocks and near misses in her life, tribulations that no amount of good luck could have surmounted.

But God? Well, that's another matter entirely.

Take, for example, the Christmas there was an electrical fire at my aunt's house. Ma Dear's bedroom was right next to the room where the fire started, and the family only had minutes before the house was engulfed in flames.

It was a blessing no one was hurt in that fire. The youngest family member was about 4 at the time, and Ma Dear was about 70 years old, and everybody went out through the nearest window. What's even more amazing is that everything in the building was destroyed ... that is, everything except what was in Ma Dear's room.

It's almost like that story about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. You know, that was when the trio refused to bow down before an idol and so were condemned to be burned in an oven. They were thrown in the oven but didn't burn because they were protected by an angel sent by God.

That's sort of what I think happened with Ma Dear and the family in that fire. A lot of bad stuff was happening at that time, and Ma Dear was doing a lot of praying trying to get everybody back on track.

In my mind, the fire was a wake-up call of sorts, and maybe an answer to Ma Dear's prayers. Even though the family had to start over, nobody was hurt and Ma Dear's most prized possessions were protected.

Nearly everything was salvageable, including all of her furniture and scores of family photo albums that spanned nearly half a century. Also saved were several of the old, paper collars that my grandfather wore as a preacher that aren't even manufactured today, and lots of school and military memorabilia none of her children ever thought about but which Ma Dear had tucked away as special items.

That type of stuff is always happening to Ma Dear. It's not luck, because luck is by definition a chance happening of events. There has been nothing "chance" about Ma Dear's life, which to me is a well-orchestrated demonstration of what true faith looks like.

Even though some half-buried old wives' tale seems to have planted the word luck in Ma Dear's vocabulary, I know it's not a part of her belief system. I've been watching and trying to emulate her for a long time, and I know her dimming eyesight is still confidently looking to the hills.

Because of my grandmother, I can accept stories like that of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Undying faith is a awesome thing to observe, but it's an even more incredible wonder to experience.

For me, Ma Dear's life is as credible as any Bible story. Each day she remains with us is a bolster for my faith, but even when she's gone, her stories will remain with me.

By remembering them, I'll also remember the difference between luck and faith.

Tamara Zellars Buck is a reporter for the Southeast Missourian.