Got Hope? Share It!

I’ve gone through some rough patches lately. Maybe you have too. So many times I’ve wanted to open my heart and tell someone—other than my husband who didn’t quite understand, but I love him anyway—about the things I was struggling with. I promised myself in 2016 to be more vulnerable in writing and in real life, yet when the storm came, I shriveled into myself. Hey, secrets were a way of life when I was a child. I learned how to keep everything to myself really well. It’s hard to bust out of that mode.

I do wish I could express myself better. I’ve found it’s easier to do that through stories where bits and pieces of me are revealed.

I often think about sharing life experiences through blogging. I ponder how other women and wives reveal their struggles so magnificently, and I wish I could be vulnerable and expose my flaws too. Then I remember I’m me, and I think no one wants to hear about that stuff anyway. For me, it takes time and trust to even crack open the door to people I’ve known for a long time. And I wonder about the gal who tells all about her marriage and kids. How does her family feel about the personal stuff she reveals?

So when 2017 rolled around and—Hallelujah!—I’d survived, and the Lord assured me He could fix me, I sat down to type out my feelings, hoping to release my first blog of the new year. I wrote, edited, and rewrote for about three hours. The result? Blech. How could I write about the low place I’d hit that left me with no will to write, lost confidence, and disappointments in life that made me feel like a big failure. It was a wilderness I’d never been to before. My husband didn’t know what to do with me. I didn’t know what to do with me.

Back to writing ... the next day I tackled the same topic using a lighter tone. What I needed was some wit! I know people who can write with such great humor, and I wish I could write funnier. In the midst of my struggle, I could have used a dose of laughter. Instead, it was foggy and empty and nothing to laugh about. Even in my writing, I didn’t want to relive the hurt. The blog couldn’t encompass the reality of my journey. But maybe writing it out, struggling through the words, helped me look back and understand some things.

We all go through difficulties. No, I’m not prophesying. It’s life. Of course, we don’t want the rough patches. Who would choose that? But we can “count it all joy.” Even the people who I admire the most, the ones who have the strongest, seemingly unmovable, faith have gone through trials and struggles. They rarely mention it. Oh, they tell me glorious faith stories of God moving powerfully in their lives, of inspirational times when God came through for them in miraculous ways. Yet, here and there, in a quiet conversation, I’ve heard small nuggets of their hard times. Which is good for me to hear. To relate to. I marvel at how they came through ... stronger, more resilient, more confident in a loving God who worked in their lives, their kids’ lives, and their destinies ... even when they didn’t know what He was doing. That gives me hope.

Hope reaches out to us like a tiny light in our darkest hour. Sometimes it’s through a friend’s hug of encouragement. That whispered “It’s going to be okay.” Sometimes it finds us through a scripture, a poem, even one of those thoughtful memes. Or maybe it’s through a story. And sometimes, God speaks right to our heart. “Hold on, kiddo. Good is on its way.”

If you find yourself going through suffering—family difficulties, job issues, sickness, grieving, disappointments and life’s struggles, to name a few—hold on. God loves you so much. He hasn’t forgotten you. There’s a deep river of peace and joy and hope that we can tap into. Think on good things. Look at the beauty in God’s creation. Read the Psalms or your favorite verses. Do something you enjoy. And breathe. It is going to be okay. You will get through this.

I was at a craft fair in December, and someone I’ve known for a long time came to my booth. We exchanged the casual “How are things going?” And for some reason, I shared just a little of how I’d been feeling down. She told me something very similar. In the middle of a crowded auditorium of customers and booths, we hugged and shared our feelings of inadequacy—and our hope in a big God who brings us through stuff.

If you know someone who is struggling in life, listen and be sympathetic, but also share hope. Tell them it’s going to be okay. God will see them through. If someone trusts you enough to tell you what they’ve been going through, just listen. It’s okay to share something similar you’ve experienced—that’s relating and understanding. But your story doesn’t have to be worse or harder or more devastating. They are the ones in the struggle right then. Listen. Hug them, if they’ll allow it. Pray for them. It’s good to hear that someone cares.

God is restoring me. This writing—my third attempt—is proof. Joy and peace have wiggled back into my heart—almost when I wasn’t looking. I’m still trusting Jesus for complete healing. His grace and understanding are beyond measure. I won’t give up on Him; He never gave up on me. He has the words of eternal life. He is my stability in the midst of an unstable world. He is my peace in the middle of chaos. He is love when I feel unlovable. He is light in the dark.

I need hope. You need hope.

When something good happened unexpectedly, my mother used to say, “Isn’t that just a sweet caress from the Lord?”

Yes, it is.

May you feel His gentle hug of hope today. And then share it!

Mary Hanks writes stories of second chances.

We all need a second chance sometime.

The New Baby

Please welcome Autumn's Break to the Second Chance family! Autumn's Break is book #4.

For the last seven months--minus my theatrical time--I've been living in the story with Autumn and Gar, facing their difficulties and trials, and deepening their characters. These two. Boy, oh, boy, do they get to me.

Meet Autumn! For years, she longed to have children. After going through testing and much disappointment, she finally accepts she'll never have kids of her own. Her heart is broken. She pulls deeply into herself, keeping Gar at arms' length. She eats comfort food. In truth, I can't fully imagine the pain she's going through. But I tried really hard. For the first two years of our marriage, I wasn't able to conceive, and I was fearful I wouldn't be able to have children. I tapped into those feelings to reach into Autumn's heart. In her story, there are things that help draw her out of her hurts. And I enjoyed walking that journey with her. Autumn and I have something else in common--a love for chocolate! Mmmm. She's learning how to make specialty fudge. And I was thrilled to do research on that important topic. 

Meet Gar: Gar loves youth theater and finds much of his self-worth in his onstage efforts and in his career as a teacher. I can relate! I worked for 18 years in Christian education, and I've directed 27 full-stage productions. There's nothing like the rush of Opening Night! And I'm always disappointed when the show is over. When the school board shuts down Gar's arts program, he struggles to make sense of it. Can't they see the good he's done? Gar's response to the principal is dramatic and unkind, but it was easy for me to imagine how the ending of his dreams--on top of the guilt he was already carrying over a flirtation that went too far--could bring him to the point of doing something stupid. Gar leaves his marriage. But he has much to ponder in the coming weeks as he faces his own shortcomings--and God's conviction.

The Lord is so good to put people in our lives at just the right time. While Gar is staying in Coeur d'Alene helping in his cousin Kyle's mechanics shop, he meets Ty Williams.

Ty is determined not to be pushy about discussing marriage and reconciliation with Gar. But if he gets the chance, he's going to share about his own journey back to God and his wife. Ty and Winter are going through struggles of their own. In this fourth installment, a past employee, Randi Simmons, is bent on revenge when she shows up at a women's conference in Bend, Oregon.

Themes: Marriage, teaching, directing, canoeing, fudge making, ministry.

Settings: Everett and Edmonds, Washington; Coeur d'Alene, ID, and Spokane, Washington. Bend, Oregon. Also, there's an episode outside of Moses Lake, Washington.

This series is dear to my heart because I believe that God can do amazing things in our broken relationships and bring about a beautiful healing. Beauty for ashes. Hurt and pride exchanged for His presence and peace. I look forward to the months ahead as I write the final installment to the Second Chance series: Season's Joy. 

For a full description of Autumn's Break or to purchase it on Kindle click: 

AUTUMN'S BREAK

Forgive Us Our Doubt

Faith demands something of us.

When others sit down, faith stands up. It shouts “I will” in the face of “You can’t.”

Sometimes people around us may say things that war against our faith--whether intentionally or not. Maybe we're believing God for something, and someone else is speaking doubt. I have ended a conversation, or walked away from it, to protect that part of my faith that needs nourishing.

True faith is not weak. It rejoices in, even can laugh at, difficulties because the proof is not in seeing the waves roaring about and causing mischief, but in knowing we will make it safely to shore.

Faith throws out a life preserver, then holds onto the rope as tight as it can, never giving up. Never even thinking it might not work.

Faith isn’t wimpy. In a race, faith is the guy with muscles and grit, the one who makes it to the finish line with a breath to spare and a tired, but thrilled, grin on his face.

Faith is climbing a mountain, knowing a reward is at the top. It’s that unction to keep going, to not stop, no matter what discouragements are thrown at us en route.

Faith is jumping into something troublesome, when it would be easier to sit on the sidelines. It takes risks, while doubt tells you to play it safe.

When faith is building its muscles, it may feel a bit shaky. But as faith grows, so does grit and determination. Like three brothers who stick together and face anyone on the opposing team, these three come against the bullies on the block. Doubt shows up to taunt and ridicule, but faith and its allies are ready for a good fight.

The things we hear, read, and see can all influence our faith/doubt struggle. Who are we going to listen to?

It’s in moments of great struggle and adversity that an even deeper level of faith comes to the surface.

When someone says something that chinks at our faith, we need to be bolder. By speaking the truth, by facing the doubt, our faith will take a growth spurt. Sometimes I return from church feeling less faith than when I went. That may sound funny. But there are times when the things I've heard or the people who have talked to me have increased my doubts instead of my faith. That is wrong. I know I need to be the one speaking faith and hope, not the one allowing doubt to receive a power-boost within me.

Faith says it is before it is.

The one standing in faith must go forward with a powerful belief to see what others cannot see. Thus the beauty and the revelation of faith—believing in the unseen. Expecting even before seeing.

I need more faith.
World, do not convince me to doubt.

Family, friends, pastors, leaders, writers, believers—let us not say we believe in one breath, and then in the next, confess we do not by our words or actions. When faith takes a stand in you, allow it the deepest level of trust and truth. Forge a firm determination to believe in God and to stand for what He says is true—no matter who whispers “nay” in your ear.

Are you believing for someone’s salvation? A healing? A miracle? Let faith rise up and refuse to doubt. Do not diminish faith by the words you allow entrance into your heart, via your own lips or that of someone else's.

Doubt lurks about seeking to do evil against faith. Refuse to give in.

Faith does something. It doesn’t sit around waiting for someone else to act first.

Faith needs its day in the gym. Exercise it. Give it liberty to fight doubt and mockery and disbelief head on.

Father, forgive my doubt.

Faith, I invite you to live in me, strong and powerful.

Doubt, I am at war with you. I resist your schemes.

Faith, I release you to rise up stronger than before, stronger than any of us could have imagined—if we but believe.

Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. ~ James 4:7 & 8

Miracle Wedding Story

I met Jason at church when I was fifteen. I loved his smile and his beautiful green eyes. The first time he sat next to me on the pew was one of the best days of my life. We started dating, which really meant going to church—thanks to four services a week—or sitting around my house, talking.

The problem with our relationship was that I was young. I got my first kiss on my sixteenth birthday. And five-and-a-half months later, Jason asked me to marry him—he was a whopping nineteen. There wasn't any fanfare. No billboard proposal, diamond ring, or audience. Just two people who felt the rest of their lives would be better with each other.

The biggest challenge ahead of us was facing my mom. I was sixteen, the only girl in the family. And though she liked Jason and said we could eventually marry, we had to wait since I was so young—unless God showed her differently.

Hallelujah for the “unless.” Being young and full of believing in the impossible, we knew God could surely do that exact thing.

The Lord often revealed things to my mom in dreams—words of wisdom, a baby's gender before it was born, etc. Jason, on the other hand, would have an impression, where something came to his mind strongly, and he would recognize that as God speaking to him.

One day, he told me, “God showed me the date we're supposed to get married.”

Hurray! I was so excited. And I knew if the Lord could show him the date, surely He would show my mom too.

Jason wrote the information on a piece of paper and put it in a sealed envelope, and we waited for God to finish the work.

One morning a couple of weeks later, my mom told me she'd had a dream. In her night thoughts, she was decorating a wedding cake and had written a date on the top. She didn't tell me what it was, but she wrote the month and day on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope.

And a “reveal” was planned.

It was a little scary, but mostly exciting, as I waited to see how it would all turn out. Would the dates match? If they were different, which one would be the right one? (Shame on me for doubting, huh?) With smiles and eager anticipation, my mom and Jason opened the other person's envelope. Alas, each paper read “August 9^th.”

We had our miracle!

We did a bunch of whooping and hugging and praising God. My dream of getting married right away was coming true.

A month later, when August 9^th rolled around, I was a young bride, barely seventeen. We were just two kids facing a big world, but we were choosing to spend our lives with each other, for better or for worse. And that's what we've done.

Here's a song Jason wrote, and we sang at our wedding:

Jesus, we know that we need You.

Jesus, we know You are King.

Go with us throughout life's journey,

And make us a vessel for Thee.

And that could be the end of our happily-ever-after story about the date. But to add to the fun, sixteen years later, on August 9^th, our youngest son was born, which was a really sweet anniversary gift. And then, thirty-nine years from our wedding day, our oldest son chose to marry on that date. How cool is that? We have an ongoing family joke that all weddings and special events should happen then, also.

In a couple of days, Jason and I will be celebrating our 40^th anniversary. Some thought we'd never make it—and didn't mind telling us so—especially since I was so young. But God had a good plan for our lives. Four days ago, while hiking on our mountain, I asked Jason to marry me, and he said “yes.” Yay!! We would do it all over again, if given the chance.

I'm so pleased God gave us our own wedding miracle, our promise of His love and care for us through the years. And, hey, I got to marry the tall boy with the beautiful green eyes. Here's to forty more!

Radical or Tentative?

I woke up this morning with the word “tentative” on my mind.

Tentative is the opposite of radical. It’s safety and holding back. It’s a lifestyle that says it’s better to be careful, cautious, and wary. Who wants to be reckless? Or fanatical? We’ve been taught those extremes are definite no-nos.

A mom keeps her kids tentative by constantly reminding them of their limits and things they should never do. Not to say basic safety isn’t needed, that’s her job. But if she stops them from climbing trees or visiting the neighbor kids, if she keeps them in their own yard, drawing a mark they can’t cross, they won’t learn to explore and see the people on the other side. They learn to live cautiously.

A pastor keeps his flock tentative by slipping warnings of spiritual extremes into sermons. I wish I’d kept track of all the times I’ve heard the preacher mention “rolling on the floor” as a terrible thing. “You don’t want to be like those who . . .” or “Back in the day they’d . . .” Honestly? I’d rather see someone roll on the floor—whatever that is—than feeling stifled and knowing the Holy Spirit is quenched in a church. We’re so worried about what something might look like. Being weird. What will so and so think if I lift my hands or shout out a praise or dance? Whew, that’s too radical. So we sit tentatively. Cautious. One eye roaming the place for anyone who might be looking back.

I wonder if I was born tentative. I know I was raised that way, lived it as an adult, and most assuredly, passed it on. Maybe being this way is really about control. If I don’t go full gun, I can always turn back and no one will notice. If I put myself out there in faith, abilities, service, fulfilling dreams, following a calling, loving, being pure, worshiping, I may embarrass my kids (yes, this is true) or the person sitting next to me. But if I hold back, not really being myself or all I can be or all God called me to be, OR if it doesn’t work out, I can easily slip back into the familiar corner of complacency, unnoticed, and comfort myself that “it wasn’t meant to be.”

Baaaaaaaaa!

What would happen if all of us tentative Christians said “enough!”? What if we simply stood up and declared “I won’t be tentative one more day!”? A simple decision. Yet, perhaps, terrifying.

What horrible atrocities have been committed in our world—wars, genocide, abortion, hate crimes, racism, abuse, negligence, and stifling of faith—because of people sitting back and doing a big fat nothing? “Oh, it’s not my problem.” Ha! If we live in this world, you can bet it’s our problem. 

What would your life or mine be like today if for the last ten or twenty years we’d been running straight for God with arms open wide, loving people fanatically, giving in extreme generosity, following the dreams of our hearts, and worshiping in complete freedom?

Wow, mine would look different. Oh, sure, I’ve had my times of boldness and pressing in, raising the flag of being sold out for God and His kingdom. Then something would happen—life, hurts, disappointments, grief—and I’d find myself tentative again, even about faith. I was the girl who carried a big Bible on the stack of books in high school. I boldly became a pastor’s wife at nineteen, confident we could face anything, even though I knew absolutely nothing about ministry. We worked in a mission church, started a Christian school, lived on little, and believed God for everything, including food. I faced life and got beaten down and got back up again. I’ve known what it is to dance and shout and experience amazing places in God. And then there’s the other side I’ve known all too well, my default: being tentative.

Isn’t it something how life or fears or doubt can lure us back into our little corner?

Well, today, I’m thinking about exchanging tentative for radical. Caution for freedom. For each of us, that might look different. To some it might be about meeting your neighbors and sharing the gospel. To someone else, preaching a sermon, starting a small group in your house, going on a mission trip, helping in a food bank, adopting a child, or even writing that book that’s been on your heart for years.

This morning I woke up pondering how I didn’t want to worship tentatively anymore. I don’t want a cautious faith that holds me back. I want to go boldly after God, confident in the things promised in His Word and in my heart. What if we only had one day to live? How would you spend it? How would I? I doubt whatever it is would be passive. We’d be doing something very alive and ambitious and on purpose.

Let’s live like that all the days we have left.

How about you?

I’m in.

Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; Isaiah 54:2

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:23

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 2 Corinthians 3:17

Follow Your Heart

If God has put something in your heart to do, I want to encourage you to stop putting it off and just do it. Too often, I ponder the thoughts of my heart way too long without taking action. I allow self-doubt or fear or worries to rob the good thing I would have done if only I’d listened and leaped forward.

I wish I were bolder. Braver. More willing to take risks. Or to believe in myself. Or in God’s ability to help me.

But there are times when something holds me back. Do you ever feel that reluctance to give yourself the freedom to follow your heart?

When we try something new, our first attempts can be pretty sketchy. Sometimes, awful. Like rough drafts. That’s why they’re called “rough” drafts, right? Thinking about my lousy first attempts at writing could keep me from trying again. What if fear crippled me and I stopped writing altogether?

Even though I believe we should do the thing we were made to do, to follow God’s nudging, there are times when I don’t listen. I overlook, or ignore, the longings I feel.

Do you ever feel that way?

Sometimes we have to give ourselves a gentle kick. To be open to failing, if need be. If we don’t, we’ll never know what we could have accomplished with God’s grace and goodness fueling us.

“I might fall on my face.”

It’s true. We might.

Starting something new can be scary. However, one step leads us to draw the next foot forward. Writing the first sentence makes the second one easier. Speaking the first line eases the way for all the others to be said confidently. But that first step, that newborn effort, however big or small, can be the most daunting.

We have to kick fear out of the picture. Be willing to take the plunge. Dream big. Follow through. I challenge you, and me, to take that first step, and see what happens.

Panic can cripple creativity. We might feel momentarily frozen. Thus, stage fright.

But, please know, you can do it. I can do it. We can take that fumbling step forward, and the next step will be easier.

If you feel a call to do a thing, and it’s pounding a wild drumbeat in your heart, telling you over and over to try, to take that step, then squash fear and doubt. Sweep it out the door, and welcome the chance to follow a dream.

If we should falter, let’s not wallow in misery and allow one misstep to keep us from trying again.

Instead, be bold.

Take a step.

Do what’s in your heart.

Faith is all or nothing.

Start that new thing. Write a book. Paint a picture. Move to a new place. Look for a different job. Teach a Sunday school class. Start a youth group. Preach. Become a missionary.

Follow your dream. Which really means follow your heart, believing that God, who loves you so much, is leading you.

Just do it. And be glad you did. 

A Storm is Coming!

Winter storms are coming. That's what happens in the Pacific Northwest—and many other places around the world—during winter. Harsh winds. Biting temperatures. A sudden dumping of snow. Sometimes Jason and I dream about moving to Arizona to enjoy wintertime sunshine and warmth. But as long as we live on the backside of Mt. Spokane, I know storms are coming.

Seasons bring different kinds of storms. I can remember a horrific rain and wind storm in Ketchikan, Alaska, on Thanksgiving Day when I was ten years old. The massive deluge sunk boats, knocked out power on the day people planned to spend the day cooking, and caused a lot of property damage. It was a storm to remember.

In life, as in seasons, we go through storms. I've known people who wouldn't admit anything was wrong in their lives. "The tongue has the power of life and death" Proverbs eighteen says, and some would contend by saying the words, they'll make it happen. And, there's truth in that. Others take this idea to an unrealistic degree. Once, I talked with a lady who denied ever having been sick, not even a cold. I disagreed with her, knowing she had to have been sick when she was a kid, but she adamantly held her ground. She wouldn't confess a negative word about her health, almost as if fearful of doing so. I believe in speaking life and love and faith in Jesus over every situation. But, if asked, I won't deny a problem happened.

Just like I know I will face a storm (or two or three) this winter, I know in life I will face storms. For some of us, it's a marriage crisis. Or a health issue. A financial struggle. A lack of a job, house, food. Maybe, there's friendship or family troubles. Or addictions. The rough patches we go through are storms. Sure, sometimes we bring problems on ourselves. Other times it's an onslaught from satan. He is, after all, out to destroy us.

One time I was listening to a radio talk-show host speaking on family and marriage. The guy said he'd never personally had rough times in his marriage. And at that moment, going through some struggles, I felt disappointed . . . and ashamed. Was something wrong with me because I was going through marital issues? Was I less of a follower of Christ because of it? Had that man said, "I haven't experienced that kind of problem in my life, BUT, I've experienced other troubles that make me realize how painful it can be," then I would have felt a bond with his struggles, even if it wasn't the same scenario.

Sometimes, we come across as if we've weathered life without a hitch. Perfect. Lily-white. But I can't go along with that. Yes, I'm alive and doing well today, thanks to God. Thanks to His love changing me. His protection. His peace . . . in the middle of my storms. Thanks to perseverance and learning through struggles. And thanks to a host of family and friends sharing life with me and giving me second chances.

One day, the disciples hopped in a boat—following Jesus—and they found themselves in the storm of their lives. These were fisherman! They made their living by working on the water. They knew the risks of turbulent winds. But this was a whopper of a storm, and they were petrified! Fisherman who'd been raised on the sea, and didn't get seasick, suddenly thought they were going to die. I can imagine their pinched faces as they cried out, fearful the next wave would knock them into the sea. Were they going to drown? They thought so.

But not Jesus. He was sleeping in the rocking, bouncing, water-sloshing-in boat.

When they woke him up, he scolded them—as if questioning why they even woke him up. "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" In that moment, Jesus must have felt a flood of compassion for his traveling companions. Even though he knew the boat wasn't going to sink. God had a plan for his life, and that job wasn't finished yet. He also knew the disciples didn't "get" that yet. So he commanded the wind and waves to stop doing what they were doing. Instantly, all was calm. I can imagine Jesus curling up again and going right back to sleep.

That was a real storm. A time of conflict, fear, thoughts that all was lost and death might be imminent. Yet—I love this—Jesus was calmly sleeping.

We will face storms, yet, we have the assurance Jesus is in our boat. In times of difficulties, we can be like the disciples and scream out in fear. Or be like Jesus: sleeping in peace and trusting God. AND, like Him, we can stand up and command the elements of the storm to stop. Let's tell satan (strongly) to back off. "Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." And, we can pray. "Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." (Heb 4:16) I love the "with confidence" part. Not cowering, or whining, or begging. Approach God confidently! We know He hears us.

Last night, I went to sleep a little discouraged. But I woke up with these thoughts on my mind. We'd all like to avoid storms. I know I would. But each time we come out of one, we're stronger. We've learned perseverance. Our faith is built up. And we have a precious story to tell. A testimony of overcoming. And we will.

Contagious Faith?

Sometimes faith is like a whirlwind. It grabs you and takes you on a life-changing ride. It grows bigger and bigger until suddenly it hurls you into a faith-in-action adventure, and your life is never the same.

Or, faith is like standing in quicksand with the muck pulling you down, your hands flailing, and just when your chin touches the wet sand, someone pulls you up and sets you on solid ground. You weep and shout out thankfulness, and your faith grows by leaps and bounds.

Then, again, faith can be like a melody building and building inside of you. Until finally, you burst out with lyrics straight from your heart. And everyone looks at you, amazed.

I googled "faith" and got 166,000,000 sites. Pretty impressive. I thought I'd narrow the field, so I entered "faith in action" and got 83,900,000. Then I tried "Contagious faith", although not as popular it still had 3,530,000. So why add one more blog on faith?

My heart is stirred over the idea of "contagious" faith. Not a boring faith. Not a passive faith. But a contagious faith.

Have you seen someone on fire with faith in God? Her face glows. Her smile is huge. Her excitement is beyond this world. When she speaks, I draw in closer and listen to every single word she says, because I don't want to miss anything. She has something I want, I need—the love of Jesus and a huge faith bursting out all over her. It's real. I can feel my faith growing too. Next to her, I'm the flower in the rain, soaking it up. Changing. Becoming. Believing.

To me, this is contagious faith.

I love what Mirriam-Webster's says about "contagious": communicable by contact. Oh, happy day. I can come in contact with a person saturated in faith, and that zest and glory can jump on me! Watch out world!

What if our faith is like a bubble around us? What if, when we bump into someone (figuratively), by osmosis their faith seeps into us. And likewise.

Paul said "I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong—that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other's faith." (Romans 1:12) Love, love, love the "mutually encouraged by each other's faith" part. When someone full of faith enters my bubble, I become strengthened, encouraged, built up. On the other hand, we've all been around someone with a sourpuss attitude, and that eventually creeps over to my side too—like a virus. We absolutely affect each other! Whether by faith or something else.

How did the girl capture such moving faith? George Bannister says, "Faith is defined in our lives when we are facing the hard decisions and fiery trials of life." Maybe so. Or, like in verse seventeen of Romans one, maybe it's more about "The righteous will live by faith." Live by faith!!! It's what we need to be eating and drinking. What we should be confessing and speaking about. Life in Jesus. The love of God the father. Our faith in the savior of the world.

It's not religiosity. It's not spouting woes or trivialities. Faith is vibrant, passionate, a total belief in the One who lives for us. It's walking . . . well, in faith, every day like it's brand new. Experiencing joy in Him, even in sorrow. It's saying "I believe" even while standing in sinking sand. It's shouting "glory to God" when you might not feel like it. And it's a miracle. Jesus mentioned a mustard seed kind of faith. If only we had that we could move mountains. Just imagine!

"The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." Gal 5:6

Contagious faith? Let it soak into me. Let it change me. I want that kind of faith!

How about you?