“The smallest light still shines in the darkest night.”
I’ve been reading through Matthew since coming home and it often causes me to pause and reflect on the year I just experienced. There’s this common theme among the disciples: they struggle to understand and believe.
You’d think it wouldn’t be all that difficult to believe in miracles when you’re traveling around with Jesus, watching him do amazing things all the time. Yet more often than once he said of his disciples, “Oh you of little faith.” And when he spoke about the kingdom and told parables about faith and obedience, they just didn’t grasp it.
I usually feel exasperated by their behavior when I read the gospels, but this time around I find myself nodding along to all their questions and sympathizing with their fear-filled doubts.
On the Race I was challenged to see and believe in the miraculous power of my Lord. I was constantly in an environment of teaching and learning about Christ’s truth, but less consistently did I apply it to my relationships and behaviors. From time to time, I might try to step out of my known comfort zone and pray for immediate healing or for a dark spirit to be defeated in Jesus’ name. But more often than not, I’d find my squad mates who are “gifted” in these areas and ask them to do the prayer for healing instead.
It’s just like the time Jesus asked his disciples to feed the 4,000. They’d already witnessed Jesus feed 5,000 with a few loaves of bread, but when called upon to do the miracle themselves, they doubted and out of fear turned the job over to Jesus. They knew he could do it, but they couldn’t believe he’d use them to perform such a huge miracle.
I believed Jesus could heal those people I met around the world. I believed in my squad mates who could sense spiritual warfare and I prayed for them as they fought against it. I believed the truth I preached about the freeing power of the Spirit and the fruits we bear when we are used by him.
I believed, but maybe too often I doubted I would be the one God worked through.
Oh me of little faith.
As easy as it is to slip into the comparison game or get dressed in disappointment over my display of “little faith,” I don’t think that’s what God would have for me.
You see, Jesus didn’t give up on the disciples just because they were of little faith. In fact, he continued to teach them and entrust them with the Spirit. They may have been stuck in their “little-faith bubbles” for a few years, but in time all the lessons sunk in and they practiced stepping out by faith into their spiritual gifts. Soon what Christ said of them came true: “The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do. And he will do even greater works than these.”
And she will do even greater works than these.
Yes, I believe that. Yes, now that’s what I’m learning to step into. And while I could pout over the “little faith” I had at times this year, I’m not going to. In fact, I’ll celebrate that little faith. That little faith helped me pray with authority for healing–physical and spiritual. That little faith allowed me to stand in front of churches and preach God’s word. That little faith taught me to forgive and reconcile and admit wrong when things grew tense in my community.
Now that I look back on it, that little faith doesn’t look like it stayed so little. In the midst of my tip-toeing walk through the “greater works,” I’ve begun to develop a faith that will continue to unlock doors leading to great displays of the Spirit.
This year, I went on a journey in more ways than one. Sometimes, in my little faith I passed the loaves to another so they could multiply them. But sometimes I stepped out of the boat and took a few wobbly steps on the water. I did things I had never believed I could do before. The Race was a journey towards discovering that my wee little faith isn’t stuck staying so little. The more I’ve opened my eyes to my miracle-working God, the more I’ve learned how a small faith can grow into one that moves mountains.
