Mustard seed.  Those two words have come to mean so much.  I've heard and read the scripture (Matthew 17:20) but I'd never held one until months back at bible study when we were each given one to go along with the message.

That tiny thing, that really tiny thing in the middle.  In the middle of the middle.  The little white speck, is a mustard seed.  That's all the faith we need to move mountains.

It started out as a gift we each carried in our pockets, purses, etc. for ourselves as a reminder.  Then the gift began to be paid forward.  Given to a woman in Walgreens receiving a phone call that a loved one had passed.  Given to at an airport baggage checker in Texas flustered by crashed computers and a long angry line.  To family.  To strangers.  To anyone where the nudge was felt.  The seed moved forward.

I held onto mine.  No reason.  I just did.  It would be in the change compartment of my wallet or I'd rub it in my pocket when I was nervous or doubtful.  I hadn't felt the nudge to give it away.  I'm still learning, oh the stories I could tell of how I'm learning, what that nudge sounds and feels like and the confirmation when I'm obedient. 

I was eventually nudged.  I was driving home, tired kids who needed lunch in the car.  We were within 2 miles of home and I only know that because of my jogging.  Our community we live in is great.  We live in an "upper-middle class", one of the most "desired areas of Tampa", neighborhood.  I mention that to lead into whom I met.  As I was driving, on the opposite side of a 4 lane road, barrier between, I saw a woman sitting by a pond.  Nothing out of the ordinary at all.  The weather was gorgeous, perfect by Tampa standards but I was told, "talk to her".  The kids were whining and I kept driving, unsure of what was occurring.  Again, "talk to her".  I made a u-turn and drove past her. slowly this time, on her side of the road.  I peered, taking in the situation.  She looked fine, just enjoying the day.  In all of my judgement, I passed her again.  A little louder this time, "Talk to Her".  Again, another u-turn with nowhere good to pull off because it's 4 lanes.  I park the truck a block or two up, unload the kids and approach her.  I had to trust at this point, even with my small kids.

Ten feet back our eyes met and she just smiled.  The wrinkles around her eyes were beyond her years but her light brown eyes sparkled and her smile was so genuine.  Behind the smile though, I saw it, I felt it.  The pain she carried vibrated through my core.  I almost cried on the spot because in that instant I trusted even more this encounter.

I said hello, introduced myself.  I explained I was driving by, felt like I should stop and I wondered if there was anything I could do for her.  Oh my the floodgates opened!  She started crying immediately and her story was heavy, one I don't have the experience to handle.  She was recently out of prison, staying with her son and they didn't have much at all.  She told me how, through different ministries, she found God in prison but that life with faith is so much harder out here than it was within those walls.  Her family didn't believe anything was different.  She said she was sitting at that pond praying for God to show Himself, to "give her a sign" that He was out here too. 

I started crying.  Mind you, my kids are still here.  I pulled my mustard seed out of my pocket, Elyse asked to hand it to her, and the woman, hysterically crying, quoted the scripture about the mustard seed. We talked, we hugged, it was beautiful.

Before we left I gave her toiletries I had in my car (I carry around for the homeless) and a bible.  She couldn't believe I gave her a bible, hers was still in prison.  I prayed over her.  The first time in a long time I've prayed over a total stranger and the words just flowed.  The power.  The intimacy.  The impact.  The presence of the living God. 

I gave away my first mustard seed and now I have another.  I hope they burn holes in my pockets. 

So, the kids you may ask.  Was I unwise?  Did I place them in danger?  Perhaps, but I didn't do this blindly and I didn't do it without direction.  Some won't see that.  I knew we were fine.  I know that I knew that I knew that we were in the most secure place we could have been in that moment.  Elyse has since asked to give "the sad lady by the pond" one of her baby dolls (we've been discussing what generosity means).  That mustard seed is the Jesus I want my kids to grow up knowing and seeing.  A Jesus of not just love, but of action. 

This week I helped with a weeknight bible study and facilitated one in our home with moms for the first time.  They weren't perfect, at all.  I was honest with my knowledge (or lack there of) and admitted my hurts and habits.  It was not comfortable.  It is not the easy road.  But it's light.  Oh how it's light.

My biggest lesson.  I'm loved right where I'm at, my imperfect wreck of a self.  Through all my shortcomings and garbage all he wants me to do is the next thing.  Just do the next thing.  And I will.