On my 8th birthday, my
oh-so-precious grandmother Flodie gave me a gold bracelet with a little charm exactly like the one above: a mustard seed encased in a
little glass bubble.
I squealed as I opened the
gift, clueless as to what the charm represented. Flodie
gathered me to her side, picked up her Bible and read to me the story
of faith and the mustard seed. I was amazed by this exquisite
gift, filled with childish wonder at the potential of the tiny seed inside
the bubble. I wore the bracelet everywhere, anxiously seeking out
unwitting souls who would listen to the story of my Magical Mustard
Seed. I was the envy of every third grader at Goldsmith Elementary.
To me, that wondrous charm was nothing less than an
amulet of superpower just waiting to be released. For many years my
desire to break the glass bubble and remove the tiny seed fought
mightily against my will to keep the pretty bracelet intact. I often
dreamed about planting that mustard seed in my back yard and
watching it grow into a majestic Mustard Tree of Faith. The only detail I had not worked out was how I might collect my boundless bounty of faith from the tree. What exactly did faith fruit look like? I was sure it smelled like mustard.
As irony would have it, I
never succumbed to the temptation of planting that mustard seed. Truth is, I didn't have enough faith that the seed was magical enough to break through the
harsh, dry soil of my West Texas backyard.
As I grew older and somewhat wiser, I
came to a deeper understanding and appreciation of the parable my
Flodie had read from her well-worn Bible. Jesus used the example of
the tiny mustard seed to teach his disciples - to teach us all - that it is not the quantity of
faith that matters. When it comes to faith, all it takes is
all you've got.
It is humbling to realize that we come into the
world with all the God-given faith we'll ever need. Just imagine...a tiny mustard seed-sized faith planted somewhere in the whirling, twirling
matrix of our infantile DNA, just waiting to grow into an majestic
Mustard Tree of Faith.
On matters of faith, I take Jesus at his Word. I never pray for a stronger faith.
Nope. No way. I have learned, what doesn't kill you may make you stronger, but it makes you stranger. And just between us? I'm just about as strong - and strange - as I care to be.
Life doesn't test us, it tests our faith. It takes trials and tribulations to grow a big, strong Mustard Tree.
My Mustard Tree is mighty. My faith is simple. Even in days of darkness, I believe with all the childlike faith of a charmed 8-year old that everything is gonna be okay in the end.
Yet, I know from experience that until the end is here, there will be days -
even years - of devastating suffering and pain scattered among my
undeserved bounty of blessings. My faith doesn't spare me from pain. Instead, it carries me through the pain and makes
life bearable until peace and joy can be restored. It is unseen, though never passive.
As you can see, I'm a big fan of faith.
Shouldn't everybody be? I just don't get it. I know people - religious people - who sing about faith and talk about faith,
but when the rubber meets the road or when the government teeters
on the cliff, they just don't seem to have any faith in
their faith.
CASE IN POINT: If I had a devalued
dollar for every time I've heard somebody whine “This Country Is
Going To Hell in A Hand Basket”, I'm sure I could make a significant
dent in the deficit.
Now don't get me wrong, the whiners may well be correct. There is always the possiblity that America is on her way to hell in a hand basket. But in the big scheme of things - like eternity - it's only a problem if YOU are in the
hand basket...right?
Instead of
wasting precious time predicting doom and pointing blame, I wish these fine, fearful folks would direct
their energy into nurturing that little seed
of God-given faith within themselves. I promise it is there, complete with the potential
to move mountains of doubt and negativity.
O ye, of little faith...please stop and smell the mustard.
