Friday, March 1, 2013
A new year began two months ago. It slipped by me like water through a drain. Swiftly were the day and that short season gone. Normally I think and ponder the course of the New Year. I try to determine where I want to go and where I want to be at the end: what do I want to change? And how do I want to change? But this year that pondering and meditative time did not happen. I’m not sure why other than…
Usually I pick a key word for the year. One word or phrase that encompasses something I want God and me to spend time shoring and building. One word that directs my study and prayer and efforts. I had not even thought about a word, did not even consider a concept. But my God was ahead of me. As always he was walking before me and leaving a sweet trail.
At the end of the 2012 I began to think about Jesus discussing mustard seed faith. At Christmas I gave several small vials of mustard seed away to women who had blessed and touched me throughout the year.
Jesus said that if we have the faith of a mustard seed we could move mountains.
Oh, that my growth in the faith of the Faith would grow so large that it would offer shelter to those who are weak and sick, hurt and wounded. Oh, that my faith would grow exponentially! I have faith: roots—sent deep into the ground of this life I am living. This faith is rooted in who God says he is, in who he showed himself to be through Jesus.
I have seen God move mountains. He has moved them in and around me. Tossed them into the sea. Now, I want to be a part of the body he calls out to move the debris of a mountain in another person’s life. I want to be on the task force he calls when the storms are whipping and mounting.
I want my faith to grow like a tiny mustard seed. I want the faith that Jesus has apportioned to me to be a shield in battle—both mine and others. I want my faith, established and rooted in the love of Christ, to change the way I live. Jesus’ faith in his Father affected the way he lived here—so it should mine.
About a week into this new year I was at work and a friend’s daughter brought me a small package. Her mother was one of the beautiful people on my list during Christmas, but the package was unexpected. I opened it. I shouldn’t have done so at the work counter. Tears blurred my vision and my chest tightened with an affirmation so tight and specific that my breath caught.
She had given me a silver necklace. Very plain and extremely simple. Written in lovely silver script was the word Faith.
God had chosen my word for me.
He is always involved. Always leading me in my choice of word for the year (last years was the word WHOLE—an acrostic). But this year He let me know what he wanted me to think about. Ponder around. Meditate on. Listen for. This is what HE wants to grow in me this year.
Mustard seed faith.
And I know why.
Without it we cannot please God. And oh, I want to please God. I want to know what his good, pleasing perfect will is.
I want mustard seed faith that abides in the assurance that my Father will do exactly what he says he will do. That he will do more than we can ask or imagine. Immeasurably more.
This year I want to ask for water to be wine, to cut holes through roofs, to touch the hem of his clothing, to break open an alabaster jar and to eat the crumbs from his table. Every one of these incidents required absurd faith and courage. Each one of these men and women took a risk—with a bold and audacious faith they went to Jesus. Each one of them was in need. Each one had a wound that needed healing. What seemed impossible, unlikely and improbable became reality with Jesus.
I am sowing my mustard seeds. Along the way. In my going out and coming in. Along the path and beside the road. This year wherever I am I want to sow mustard seed. And I want to sow lavishly. I want to sow on the edges of cliffs and in the crevices of mountains. I want to sow in the darkness and in the light. And I want this mustard seed tree to grow in the chambers of my heart—expanding it, stretching it, strengthening it.
More than anything I want to please Him.
And today when I get dressed?
I will put my necklace around my neck.
One April evening in 2017 we reached for your Mama and Daddy’s hands and led them into the stillness of an empty sanctuary. At an altar we...
Twenty-three months ago I entered into a land of shadow —like the brilliant day when the sun disappears because a cloud moves in front o...
But the fact that I felt almost nothing during this time alerted me to something being amiss. Something amiss, yes. But this alarm, this...