Note: On Tuesdays and some Sundays, you can find me at Your Daily Tripod, owned by my friend TonyD. A longer version of the post below appears there.
They are small, mustard seeds, not even a tenth of an inch. They grow into bushes of six to twenty feet, as wide as they are high. It takes them a while to reach maturity.
Mustard bushes like sun and a clay soil, but overall, they’re not fussy, as long as they aren’t in a cold 
climate and don’t get overwatered. They’re a useful thing, providing seeds for cooking and the like, and they provide some low shade and a place for bird nests. But they’re not majestic like an oak or showy like a magnolia or a maple.
Faith often starts out small, like that mustard seed. For most people, there’s no big ah-ha, come-to-Jesus moment that changes our life. Sure, Paul had that moment of conversion on the road to Damascus, and some can point to the very moment, born of sacrament or desperation, when we surrendered our will to the Lord. But those are the exceptions, and even for those who have had them, including Paul, faith lived day to day can become a slog. Colleagues are puzzled about why anyone would go to Mass during the week. Those away from faith are quick to judge Christians who, being human, don’t live as the Lord desires 24/7. We struggle ourselves to pick up our crosses daily, to decrease our self-absorption so He can increase.
But the Lord’s not fussy about where He sows. He doesn’t need perfect, dark loam. He can make do with whatever we have, offered willingly or grudgingly. He doesn’t specifically seek out people who are smart, beautiful, or congenial, although they’re welcome too. He just desires us, useful things willing to be at His service. He desires people who remember, like Paul, that although this life may bring suffering, there’s a big, sheltering bush of love waiting, a bush that maybe grows a little bit bigger every time we open our hearts and souls to Him, regardless of how small and seemingly inconsequential that seed of faith was when it was planted.
