Faith

I'm confessing once more my small faith. This Sunday I'm preaching on having faith the size of a mustard seed.

It's painful, really; the accusations of perfection and holiness. People assume that because I'm a missionary I hold the corner on religiosity. I'm not very good at this whole "Christian" thing. I'm a poor example by any measure, but stick me up next to Mama T(eresa), Hudson Taylor, or Amy Carmichael and it's almost laughable.

It's hard to explain. I genuinely struggle to find words to convey my meaning. I'm not here because my great faith gave me the courage to get on a plane; I'm here because I'm trying to be faithful - in the big and the small. I try to remember to read my Bible every day (unless I feel that I'm doing it out of obligation, which I feel to be wrong in some way, and then I wait until I long for some word in my life, which seems better to me.)

But I really do believe that small faith has great potential. I don't think that we're supposed to be "all that good" at being Christian. I think it should always be a struggle. Twelve feet of snow. Uphill both ways. The whole nine yards. I think I'm doing something right.

I had a friend be very honest with me once. He told me that either my theology and missionary philosophy are correct and I will be celebrated in history as a great missionary - or I'll be wrong and I might just burn in Hell for it. While I don't see either outcome as even remotely possible (I'm not a relentless self-promoter, and I've got my "get out of hell free card")I appreciate his sentiment.

I'm going to keep living on my small faith. I'm going to continue taking shovels full of dirt until the mountain has been moved. And I'm going to call it a miracle without a hint of irony. I'm going to wipe the sweat off my brow and give thanks to God for having moved the mountain. That's just how I see it.