Zanele's Faith Journeys

How God Provided the Love I Didn’t Know I Needed

This is a love letter to my grandmother—the woman God used to give me exactly the kind of love I didn’t even know how to ask for.

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Who Was Fannie?

Her name was Carrie Bryant.
But to us, she was Fannie.

My grandmother was 93 years old when she went home to be with Jesus.
Ninety-three years of living, loving, surviving, and giving.

When my two brothers and I were toddlers, one of our much older cousins used to call her “Granny,” although she was actually her aunt. We heard it and thought she was saying Fannie. So that’s what we started calling her.

As far as I know, she never corrected us.
She just wore it, and it became her name.

“Fannie” became who she was to so many people who loved her.

And honestly, that one little detail tells you everything you need to know about her.

A toddler misheard a name and, instead of correcting it, she embraced it. She let it stick. She made room for it. And then it spread—through family and beyond—because that’s just who she was.

Fannie.
A name born out of a child’s love that she claimed as her own.

As I got older—well into adulthood—I began calling her Granny more often. It just felt right. I still called her Fannie too, but Granny and Gran Gran became my names for her as time went on. She was all those names to me.

Last Friday, May 1st, would have been your 94th birthday. I sure did miss seeing your face. Happy birthday, Granny. 💜

She was sweet and kind, bossy and determined, loving and generous, and fiercely independent—all at the same time. She loved Jesus faithfully. And she was “adopted” by so many people who crossed her path that she became their Momma, their Auntie, their Granny too.

That’s the kind of woman she was—
the kind whose love had no capacity limit.

She was one of the most generous people I have ever known.

If she had a dollar and you needed some money, she’d insist you take half.
And I mean insist. She wasn’t taking no for an answer—just bossy like that. (I got a little of that bossiness, too. 😄)

And she had a cackle of a laugh I can still hear when I close my eyes. 😊

My Ram in the Bush

I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on who my grandmother was to me and the impact she had on my life. And I didn’t fully understand it until this year—just before she passed.

As a little girl, I needed a specific kind of love. Gentle love. Patient love. Affectionate love—hugs and kisses and a soft place to land.

My mother is a great mother, but affection doesn’t come easily for her. And when we were children, I really craved that kind of affection from a woman. At the time, she was carrying things I was far too young to understand. I wouldn’t come to understand some of it until many years later.

But God saw me—that little girl. And He provided you, Fannie.

Your hugs. Your kisses. Your patience. Your gentleness. Your voice. And your ears, always ready to listen. The way you made us feel—safe, wanted, and known.

Without those things, I would not be the woman I am today. I am sure of that.

The Lord does indeed provide a ram in the bush.
He saw what I needed before I even had words for it, and He loved me faithfully through you for almost 56 years.

And you were always there.
Always.

I am forever overwhelmed with gratitude.

I Am the Birthday

That’s the slang of the moment trending on social media these days—and I will be 56 this Friday, May 8th.

And for the first time in my entire life, Fannie won’t be here to sing Happy Birthday to me.

I am still grappling with the reality that she has always been here.
Every birthday. Every year.
For all 55 of them—she existed in this world, and now she exists only in my heart and in my memories of her.

For all these years, I had you. Your voice. Your laugh. Your soft hands. Your presence.

And I understand what a gift that is—what a rare and precious gift. Not everyone gets a grandmother like you. And not everyone gets to have her for 56 years.

I got to be loved so well by God through you. And I will carry that for the rest of my life.

I miss you, and I will love you forever, Granny. I will see you again. 💜

Take a moment today to thank God for the people who loved you well. And if you can, don’t wait—tell them now while you still have the chance.

Life is a faith journey. Walk boldly—even when you’re walking through grief with a grateful heart.

Be brave enough to celebrate a life well lived, even through your tears. 💜
Be faithful enough to recognize God’s hand in the people He placed in your life. 💜
Be kind enough to honor their memory by carrying forward everything they poured into you. 💜

Sis, let grief and gratitude hold hands. God is big enough to hold them both—and you—all at the same time.

— Tami Zanele