Tag Archives: Mustard Seed Faith

Consider the Lilies: Walking the Prayerful Path of Trust

Matthew 6:28

I spent a beautiful afternoon with the Lubbock Christian Women’s Connection, and from the moment I walked in, I knew it would be special. One of our fearless leaders greeted me with such kindness, looked straight into my eyes, and said, “Dee Ann, we need you to be a table hostess.”

Now I will be honest with you—there is an old fear that sometimes tries to rise up in moments like that. It grabs hold of my words and makes them want to dance into a stutter. For just a second, I felt it coming. But instead of letting fear speak, I quietly reached for Jesus’ hand and said, “Of course.”

And oh, how the Lord provides.

Karen Wood became my buddy for the day. By God’s grace, I managed to get us both safely to the Country Club, and we were ready to celebrate sisterhood. But what meant the most was this—Karen leaned in and said so gently, “I’ve been a hostess before… we can do it together.”

Isn’t that just like Jesus?

I whispered a quiet thank-you to Him in that moment—for a sweet friend, for His steadying presence, and for the courage to step into a responsibility I might have once avoided.

The afternoon itself was rich with beauty. Lindy Woods filled the room with songs that seemed to settle right into our hearts, preparing us for what God had in store. Then we heard from Leana Neagle of Willis, Texas, whose message, “On the Heels of Grace,” felt like holy ground.

Her story of miraculous healing was truly unforgettable.

After surviving a horrific wreck—something she should not have lived through—she faced the very real possibility of losing her legs. Doctors doubted. Healing seemed uncertain. Even walking again felt out of reach. And yet, in that place of deep trial, she encountered a word she had never fully understood before: testify.

Through the power and mercy of God, not only did she keep her legs, but she went on to do what once seemed impossible—she walked a marathon. And there she stood before us, whole, strong, and full of faith, declaring the goodness of God.

It was more than a testimony—it was a living picture of grace in motion.

The theme of our gathering was flowers, and as I sat at the table, my heart turned to Scripture:

“And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin.”
— Matthew 6:28

At Table 4, we gathered as women carrying responsibilities, hopes, and even quiet burdens. And Jesus, knowing hearts like ours, pointed us to something as tender as a flower to teach us about trust.

Throughout Scripture, flowers quietly preach truth:

God’s Provision
Lilies do not strive or strain, yet God clothes them in beauty. If He tends to something so fleeting, how much more will He care for you?

Human Frailty
We are like flowers of the field—here for a moment, then gone. Yet the Word of our God stands forever.

Restoration and Hope
God causes deserts to bloom again. Dry places are never beyond His reach.

Love and Delight
Flowers in Song of Solomon remind us that we are not simply sustained—we are cherished and delighted in.

Flowers bloom for a season, but they return again and again. Their rhythm mirrors our own lives—flourishing, fading, and blooming again through the faithful hand of God.

And after hearing Leana’s story, those flowers seemed to say even more:

God restores what seemed lost.
God strengthens what seemed broken.
God brings life where there was once only fear.

So as I looked at the flowers on our table—and at the women gathered around it—I sensed the Lord gently whispering:

You are seen.
You are sustained.
You are deeply loved.

To the Lubbock Christian Women’s Connection, thank you for such a lovely afternoon, for your warm welcome, and for creating a space where faith and sisterhood bloom so beautifully.

May we all continue walking this Prayerful Path… learning to trust the One who tends every petal.


Prayer

Heavenly Father,

thank You for the gentle lessons You place all around us. In flowers, in friendships, and in testimonies of grace, You remind us that You are always at work.Help us to trust You the way the lilies do—without striving, without fear, simply resting in Your care. Thank You for stories like Leana’s that remind us You still heal, You still restore, and You still call us to testify to Your goodness.For every woman reading this, let Your peace settle deeply.
Where there is weariness, bring rest.
Where there is fear, bring courage.
Where there is dryness, bring new life.Teach us to bloom in every season and to walk faithfully wherever Your grace leads.We love You, Lord.
Amen.

IT WAS NEVER ABOUT small FAITH

Let’s pour a cup of coffee and sit with Jesus for a minute.

Some mornings I’ve looked at my life—my people, my city, my calling—and thought, “Lord, I don’t feel like I have much today.” Maybe you’ve felt that, too. We often stare at our faith like it’s a measuring cup: Do I have enough? Is it big enough? Strong enough? But a mustard seed never looks at itself and wonders if it’s big enough to be a tree. A seed doesn’t measure—it grows. And that is exactly where Jesus meets us.

“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.” — Matthew 13:31–32 (NIV)

“It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade.” — Mark 4:31–32 (NIV)

I love how Jesus takes something ordinary and reveals something unstoppable. He’s not giving a botany lesson about the tiniest seed; He’s showing us that God’s kingdom—and the faith God plants—cannot stay small. It carries His life inside it. It carries a future. It carries shelter for others.


A Conversation Over Coffee: So… what did Jesus mean?

Most of us grew up hearing, “Even a little faith is enough.” But let’s listen a bit closer. In the kingdom parables (Matthew 13; Mark 4), Jesus sets the mustard seed in a field and says, Watch what happens. The point isn’t the seed’s size; it’s the seed’s destiny—it will become something that cannot be missed. The kingdom may start quietly, but it will not end quietly.

When Jesus talks about faith “like a mustard seed” in other places, we often assume He means “faith as small as.” But there’s a rich, faithful way to hear it as faith with the nature of a seed—faith that carries the certainty of what God has promised. A seed doesn’t wonder if it will become a plant; it simply becomes what it was designed to be. That’s how divine faith works inside a believer: it trusts the outcome God has already authored.

One writer I found puts it beautifully: faith accomplishes more in proportion to its beginning than anything else we possess—not because we are impressive, but because the God who gives faith is omnipotent. Jesus’ “move a mountain” language is a holy, hope-stirring hyperbole pointing to God’s power, not our spiritual muscle. Pure, living faith the size of a seed removes a mountain; lifeless faith the size of a mountain removes nothing. That contrast shifts our eyes from our faith’s size to our faith’s Source.


What the First Audience Heard (and Felt)

Picture Jesus’ listeners—farmers, tradespeople, parents, elders—people who knew the dirt under their nails and the ache in their backs. They had seen mustard grow wild and hardy in their fields. When Jesus said, “The kingdom is like a mustard seed,” they didn’t reach for a ruler. They nodded because they’d watched a seed, which almost became a plant that took over the garden and offered shade to birds. They heard inevitability. They heard life that spreads. They heard, “What God plants will take root in this world, even if it starts in the margins.”

And when Jesus spoke of faith “like a mustard seed,” they weren’t picturing a tiny drop of spiritual courage on a measuring spoon. They were picturing seed-life—the built-in certainty that what God begins, He finishes; what He plants, He grows; what He promises, He keeps.


Bringing the Principle Home (to your kitchen table and mine)

So, let’s carry this into our lives.

  • When you whisper a prayer that feels small, remember faith doesn’t work because it’s big; faith works because God is big. The seed doesn’t “try” to grow—it responds to light, water, and the hand that planted it. Your faith responds to God’s character, God’s Word, and God’s Spirit.
  • When the need in front of you looks like a mountain, don’t stare at the “size” of your faith. Stare at the faithfulness of your God. Mountains don’t move because we push hard; they move because He speaks and He sustains.
  • When you feel disqualified by weakness, remember living faith outgrows every limit because its life is divine. It may begin quietly, but it becomes a tree with branches wide enough for others to rest. Your trust in Jesus is meant to become shade for someone else.

If God planted it, it’s going to grow. That’s true for His kingdom in the world, and it’s true for His faith in you.


A gentle challenge (for our hearts)

Let’s retire the phrase, “My faith is small.” The seed never says, “I’m tiny.” The seed simply becomes. From now on, let’s say, “My God is great, and He has planted His life in me.” That confession turns the eyes of our hearts to where power truly lives.

It was never about small faith.
It has always been about God’s faithfulness growing in us.


Prayer

Heavenly Father
Thank You for planting Your life in our hearts.
Teach us to stop measuring and start trusting—
to look less at ourselves and more at You.

Where we feel thin, breathe Your strength.
Where we feel late, remind us You are right on time.
Where the mountain looms, speak Your word, and align our faith with Your will.

Make our lives like that mustard tree—
rooted, growing, and wide-branched with shelter for others.
Let Your kingdom come through the faith You planted in us.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.