I enjoy sailing around volcanoes, and whenever I have the opportunity, I climb them.  Just north of Sicily is an island called Volcano Island and (as you might guess) there is a large volcano in the middle of it.  It only takes a couple of hours to hike to the top and it’s an easy climb unless it’s raining.  Friends from another yacht were on the summit during a thunderstorm.  The combination of thunder, lightning, flash flooding, and slurries of mud rushing down the slopes made their climb into an unforgettable adventure.  They reached the base of the volcano after sinking up to their calves in thick red mud.

Fortunately my climb to the top was less arduous, but it was still an excellent adventure.  The magnificent view from the top made the climb worthwhile.  The active volcanic island of Stromboli could be seen in the distance as a faint outline emerging from the Mediterranean haze.  Unlike Stromboli, my volcano was dormant.  There was no molten lava in the caldera and no active lava flows to threaten adventurers on its slopes.  Just because there was no hot lava to singe my toes didn’t mean I could treat this volcano without respect.   Clouds of sulfurous gas and steam billowed from the summit, and even a small whiff of the noxious fumes quickly took my breath away.  More than once I had to hold my breath to pass through the toxic clouds of gas.

The highest volcano I've ever climbed is in New Zealand.  Even though it was summer, there was still ice and snow on its summit.  That volcano was so high I could see both coasts of New Zealand.  The Pacific Ocean stretched endlessly to east and the Tasman Sea glittered in the west.  I could literally see from sea to shining sea.

Each time I climb a volcano, I'm reminded how Jesus said if I have faith the size of a grain of mustard seed, I would be able to move mountains.  This statement confused me for many years.  I had so many mountains of adversity in my life, but none of them seemed to be moving.  I tried to muster my faith as best I could, but my mountains stayed right where they were.

There was a fatal flaw in my understanding of the nature of faith.  I was looking for magic.  I wanted to name it and claim it.  I secretly hoped faith would temporarily suspend the laws of the physical universe at my whim, enabling me to rearrange the real estate on planet earth – in other words, move mountains.  I had a poor understanding of why God put the capacity for faith in my heart and mind.  I totally missed the point.

Fortunately this story has a happy ending.  I discovered that faith has nothing at all to do with magic or altering the laws of the physical universe to make miraculous things happen.  Instead, faith has everything to do with vision – a vision of what is possible with the help of God.  God gave me faith to see things other people cannot see.  Faith lets me see through clouds of chaos and confusion.  It allows me to look into the future and see what is possible.

Now when I ask God to help me to move a mountain, I know exactly what’s going to happen.  He’s going to give me a shovel and tell me to start digging.  And before I know it, the mountain will start moving.

Jesus was right.  If I have faith the size of a grain of mustard seed, I can move mountains.  One shovel-full at a time.

Do you hear that sound?  That’s me and my shovel at work.  I am moving another mountain.  In about a week I am pulling up my anchor to sail three thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean.  I know I can do it one shovel-full at a time.