A long time ago, I thought faith was like sitting on a horse coach with
the reins in hand, looking over at Jesus sitting next to me and
saying, “So, where are we going?” Since June of last year, a number of
events have culminated into a journey of faith that have left me a
Such is the extent of the transformation that if the man from June
walked past me, I would scarcely recognise him.
See, I got engaged, planned a wedding, bought a house and gained
significant responsibility and obligations that I never had before.
All of that needed to happen with, well, no money.
Needless to say, I realised at the start of this journey that I could
not conquer this monster by myself. I’ll be honest… I did consider trying, a few times
during the process.
As a result, I’ve learned one thing with regard to the nature of faith. Faith is
tested most when alternatives exist, and trust, trust is tested when
no other options remain.
Faith is evidence of things unseen, the things hoped for. Faith
is also perfected by works. Faith does not end in a belief or a trust
but compels us to action. Often this action becomes our biggest snare
as we try to create our own alternatives outside of faith.
Our carnality becomes the advocate of our downfall. I have become so
reliant on what I see that I can’t act on that which I don’t. We
believe the size and health of the potatoes are significant when the
plant above the surface looks healthy. When they don’t, we worry. This
is a logical process and makes perfect sense.
But God’s logic works differently from ours. While we are so distracted by
the pathetic plants above the surface, He is preparing monstrous
potatoes beneath the surface. Yet still, our trust disappears.
Why is that? Why is it that we only believe in the goodness and
provision of God when we can see it on the surface? Is He not always
Faith can flow only from intimacy. A place where we trust God beyond
what looks probable or even possible in the physical. He is busy with
potatoes beneath the surface. All we need is to trust a while, endure
Faith is much more like driving a rally car. You are the driver, you have control, and you determine the speed and direction. Your navigator, that is Jesus. You are driving on a course you have never seen before. Only the navigator knows what the next turn looks like. How well you drive depends on two things; how well you listen and how much you trust the directions and notes from the navigator. Both of these elements would serve you all the better if you have a good relationship with you co-driver and know one another’s lingo.
How lavishly my Father has poured out His love on me. Always providing for my needs according to His riches in glory. Not once has He left me hanging, many times He has left me on the edge of my seat. Is this not the nature of faith?
May we learn to find the value beneath the surface and live where we do not see.