What a magnificent thing,

watching the waves break

against the shore while

standing in an orchestrated

fuel break.  For what

seemed like miles all I saw

was charred remains of

what used to be.  Oh how

this landscape paralleled my

life.  It was hopeless; I was

hopeless; I felt hopeless….

that was until I was

reminded of the faith of a

mustard seed.  Look at this, I

exclaimed!  3 little fire

followers,

Putting on my

glasses to get a better look;

these 3 sprouts demanded a

2nd look.  How did these

pioneer species manage to

break this soil, lightly

stomping on the ground it

felt too hard to toil; yet they

did it, they broke through

Why can’t my faith be like

that, will my faith grow my

hope back?