Faith Like a Mustard Seed

*please note: my understanding/knowledge of theology is in no way advanced. the following is something that I’ve written along my journey to understand God and His word (so please, feel free to let me know if you disagree with any of this/have differing interpretations)

I hesitate to write about my faith because there is still a huge part of me that struggles with it; that cries out to God in anger and frustration. But then I remember Matthew 27:46 or Mark 15:34 (I didn’t actually remember the verses, just the story… limited knowledge of theology), “And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Even Jesus, the Son of God, calls out to God as He feels abandoned and alone.

I read a book recently called A Bipolar Gospel by Henry Williams in which he talks about the intersection and reconciliation of mental illness, the gospel, and a relationship wit and faith in Christ. In it, Williams discusses his own relationship with faith. Faith, meaning, “to have complete trust or confidence in someone or something” is something that can appear different for people with mental illness. I know that in my own struggles, particularly ones where I blame the Lord for my own suffering (therefore neglecting His compassion for our suffering in His ultimate suffering) I abandon a faith, that even the size of a mustard seed can aid in delivering me from the hell that I am in. Now, I don’t want to sit here and say that people with mental illness need faith and they’ll be fine, in fact I believe in a completely different notion. Faith, in turn, is a frustrating thing, which is rooted in its dynamic nature. Williams says, “But faithfulness is not fundamentally static - it is dynamic” I become frustrated not only at the diagnosis of my bipolar II, but also the seemingly bipolar nature of faith (everything feels so bipolar sometimes!!!). The form of fluctuation - a strong faith to a weak and questioning one, a complete love of God to a casting blame on Him for my suffering. Thus my belief that faith is not the end all cure for mental illness.

But sometimes faith takes the function of simply carrying me through the day. Faith that this day and the pain that wraps itself around the 24 hours ahead of me, is not an everlasting pain; that the only everlasting thing is God’s love and faithfulness to us. In the extremes of bipolar and/or anxiety, a smaller, more sizable portion of faith such as believing that this day will not represent the rest of my days, can be just enough to get me out of bed, brush my hair, and go to the restroom. By knowing that this moment in which your life feels as if it’s falling apart, will not dictate how the rest of your life will order itself - that God has a much larger plan than constant suffering - can help you through even the next minute.

Bipolar II is characterized by cycles of depressive episodes followed by hypomanic periods (DSM-V). The very nature of the disorder is a fluctuation - whether that be day to day or across weeks and months. The very nature of the disorder is forging a sense of rocky faith within your being. As I lay in bed, in the throws of a depressive episode doubting God’s love for me and therefore my faith, I look back to a passage I wrote in my journal during a medicated (ie. non depressed state) that says,

“Why should Jesus love me? It’s a question I often ask as I stare at the rolls on my

stomach and determine my worth based on a number on a scale, a score on a

test, a materialistic beauty, a novel’s worth of mental disorders. But then I reframe

the question to, ‘Why shouldn’t Jesus love me?’ As He was dying on the cross,

for my sins, for yours, for all of ours, He was next to two robbers - two men

who committed horrible crimes, who “deserved” the punishment they were given.

Jesus, the Messiah, the only one who has not sinned, was subject to the same

suffering of those that sinned everyday. But the robber says to him in Luke

23:39-43, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us. But the other, rebuked

him, saying, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of

condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our

deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.’ And he said, ‘Jesus, remember me

when you come into your kingdom. And he said to him, ‘Truly, I say to you, today

you will be with me in paradise.’” Jesus loved the criminal - the sinner - and

welcomed him into his kingdom. Jesus’ love is so big, it includes the whole

world… it includes me (and you and your mom and your dad and those who do

not believe and those who do and those who suffer and those who have

overcome). I may blame the Lord for my suffering. I may abandon Him when I feel

abandoned by Him - when He doesn’t answer my prayers to my standards, when

His answer is wait, rather than a yes or a no. But I always (try to) return to the

notion that God is there for me when my faith fluctuates - when it goes down and

comes back up again, when I cry to the Lord for help, when I praise the Lord for

his faithfulness. I struggle with faith, as we all do. If it was easy, there would be no

need for it. But why would Jesus not love me, when He chose me to grow in my

mother’s womb? Why would He abandon someone He created and formed to be

uniquely and wonderfully beautiful?”

I hesitate to write about my faith because I have no definite explanation for the faith that exists within me. Sometimes I feel like my faith is as small as a mustard seed, “It is the smallest of all seeds” (Matthew 31:32a) but have you ever seen a mustard plant? Driving through San Luis Obispo one time, I looked to the hills covered in a storm of yellow. Mustard plants - sweeping, larger than any plant around them. Faith the size of a mustard seed grows into faith the size of mountains. When I can muster up a faith that gets me through the day, or as Williams puts it, “faith… just stable enough to keep me alive for another month” well, that sort of faith can be as strong and all-encompassing as an unwavering and unshakable faith.

Mustard plants in San Luis Obispo - one of my happy places :)

I hesitate to write about my faith because I question if it is shameful that my faith falls on a spectrum - from assurance to doubt (Williams, 88). But isn’t even the most unshakable faith prone to the ways of the devil? It comes down to our ability to say, “I am not alone. There is power in the name of Jesus.”

We cry out just as Jesus cried out on the cross. Jesus suffered in compassion and questioned God’s motives and the necessity of His suffering. Do we expect to be more confident than Jesus? Do we expect to have a fully established faith in God when even Jesus felt abandoned and forsaken? I question my faith, but don’t we all? I should not hesitate to write about my faith because it because a fertilizer for the mustard seed to grow and to flourish. I hesitate in my suffering, as Jesus did. But I pray for faith, I pray to know the power of Jesus, I pray to know that I am loved and not alone.