I eye my grocery list again. Mustard seeds, it says in Husband’s handwriting.
I think of what they call “a tiny seed with a lot of spunk” and gaze at my man, planted on the couch next to me.
“Tell me about the mustard seeds you put on the grocery list,” I say, hoping he’ll deliver something profound I can use for the blog.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I use them in pickles.”
And maybe his simple response holds the same plucky spirit as the seeds.
I dig deeper. When ingested, the seeds—rich in minerals and antioxidants—increase blood circulation, treat inflammation, and protect the body from cancer. When planted, the mustard seed will grow anywhere, the experts say. It’s prolific, rarely bothered by pests, and its roots grow down deep, adding nutrients back to the soil around it.
If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, the Great Gardener says, you can say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.
If the mustard seed is one to two millimeters in diameter, what’s the size of my faith?
I tried it at the Black Hills and nothing happened. But I also used it when the ultrasounds showed my baby in utero had a hole in her heart, the Volvo’s brakes failed in 42nd Avenue’s heavy traffic, we smelled gas in the house, and our empty fuel tank threatened to stall us out in the middle of the Great Salt Lake Desert.
So, was my faith big enough? Dicka was born with a healthy heart, I drove that Swedish car home safely, a tech from the utility company patched the leak in time, and our vehicle propelled us—on fumes—to a gas station on the other side of the desert. It was also big enough all the times I didn’t get what I wanted, and it grew—especially then—from a seed into a tree.
Like canning and grocery lists, kitchen lessons are endless, but I'm sticking with this last one and grabbing onto a meme I spotted this morning: I have a mustard seed, and I'm not afraid to use it!
Let's move some mountains.
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