Faith to Move (My) Mountains

Long ago, I was a girl in a class at church. I was probably 17. I remember the teacher handed every girl a piece of paper and showed us how to fold it into a book. On each page was an inspiring quote or a picture we could color while we listened. I generally don't hold onto those papers because I don't usually find them memorable, but I kept this one. I can't remember the lesson topic. I do remember that I was struggling. 17 was a hard age. I felt stopped and blocked in everything I tried to do.

I doubt I paid much attention in that class. I generally don't pay attention during lessons. What I do remember was thinking about a scripture story of a man who had the faith to move mountains. If he had asked a mountain to move out of his way, it would have moved. How cool! I desperately wished I had that sort of faith. But, of course, what 17 year old Esther, plain Esther, would have enough faith to move a mountain? And why would I ever need to move a mountain? I wasn't that important. I wasn't anybody special.

Those thoughts didn't sit well with me. I don't like being told what I can't do. I generally set out to prove people wrong if they express doubt about my ability. I am ridiculously stubborn and I was determined to find a way to move mountains. 

I'm pretty sure I refocused on the lesson at that point, just in time to hear the teacher say something about her trials, and how she had been helped through difficult moments in her life. I wrote down on that piece of paper, one sentence: The faith to move my mountains. That was the word I'd been missing. The word that makes mountain moving possible. My mountains. At 17 I had a lot of mountains. I was in the middle of a crisis of faith, I was hurting, depressed, and unsure of the direction my life was going to take. Mountain range after mountain range of impossibility, self-doubt, loneliness, and resentment stood in my way. 

Did I have the faith to move them?

Did I have faith that Jesus Christ would stand beside me and lift the burdens I'd chosen to carry? Did I have faith to take a step forward and accept that I might have to climb my way to the other side? Did I have the faith to let go and let Him take control?

Mountains don't move quickly. Especially when there are a lot of them. I'm nearly 20 and I'm still moving those mountains. But I do have the faith it takes. I have faith to keep going, faith to try again, and faith that someday the path before me will be free of obstruction. 

I am pretty sure that all of us have the faith it takes to move mountains. I doubt we'll ever see the Rocky Mountains move, but we might see anger, guilt, and betrayal fade away. What a beautiful sight it is! Claim that faith! Use that faith! I promise you have enough faith!