Faith Without Works

Scary topic, right?  Don't worry.  I'm not going to wax eloquent on all my superior knowledge on what "faith without works is dead" means as I am now a well educated Bible school student.  You know why?  Because my first semester at Bible school reinforced for me something I already knew well: the more I know, the more I know I don't know.

This isn't a sermonette.  It's not some pretty thing meant to impress and awe.  This is realism, folks.  Deep, hard core, unpolished me.  Perhaps rough around the edges, but honest.

The past few days have been interesting.  That's putting it mildly but I'm not sure I know any other words to use.  We left Wyoming in a light rain and got stuck in South Dakota in a blizzard (perhaps not that extreme in reality, but I'm from Michigan and I can honestly say it's a rare occasion when I've seen that much snow accumulate in such a short amount of time).  Anyway... we took longer to get home than anticipated.  And I had a LOT of time to think.

What was I thinking about?  Faith.  I've talked to several friends recently who commented on ways God was growing their faith and their earnest desire to see God strengthen their faith, knowing full well that means testing.  This was what came to me as I drove.

It gave me pause to consider how my faith has grown.  And it made me recognize one very important thing about myself: I have long known I was not afraid to die for my faith but I only just realized I've been afraid to live for my faith.

Growing up, when people would talk around me about what they would do if someone threatened to kill them for their faith.  I was often surprised and sometimes dismayed by the response.  So many would say, "I'm not sure what I would do," or "I don't know that I could stand up for my faith in that situation." I began to question myself because my thought was always, "I would die for my faith if confronted with that issue.". I thought perhaps I was being presumptuous.  I never considered that perhaps I was ignoring a different yet similar failing in my own life.

The more I've been able to share Jesus with people, the more I've realized that I have been living in fear.  My faith has been without works.  It has been dead.  Useless.  How many people did I share Jesus Christ with over the past several years?  I can only think of a few.  How many people would know that I am a Christian just by looking at my life?  Fewer still.  Did I encourage a brother or sister?  Did I pray earnestly for anyone?  Did I step out and give until it hurt?  No.  No.  No.

This is not a moment of regret.  Believe it or not, this is a moment of triumph.  My life over the past few years has not been the reflection of Christ it should have been.  But guess what.  God is bigger than all of that!  He's bigger than me.  And He has moved me.  He's transforming my life, changing my heart.  I don't have a specific burden.  I don't know where I'm supposed to go in ministry.  I just know I'm supposed to love on people, step out in faith, follow God wherever He leads, and let my life be ever more a picture of Him.  I will fail.  I am human.  My faith has been tested, shaken, made over again.  I haven't done it perfectly.  I never will.  Not until heaven (glorious day that will be!).  But while I am on earth, so long as God gives me breath to breathe, I know He is deserving of every one of those moments.  He gets to take them and use them.  And when I die, whether it is at gunpoint because I refused to deny my Savior, or in my bed at home at a ripe old age, I know I get to spend of all eternity praising God.  There is no losing.  Until then, I don't want to live a useless faith anymore.  Faith without works is useless.  It saves me from hell and nothing more.  So I must share, friends.  I cannot go back to not sharing Jesus with people.  The very thought is unbearable.