“Lord, I don’t ask for a faith
that would move yonder mountain.
I can take enough dynamite and move
it if it needs movin’. I pray, Lord,
for enough faith to move me” (Norman Allen).

I like that prayer. I don’t necessarily need a mountain moved as much as I need something to move me. And sometimes I feel like it might take a few sticks of dynamite to dislodge me from my stubborn ways.

I don’t want to be a casual Christian (to quote the wise theologians Eddie DeGarmo and Dana Key). I don’t want to be a status quo believer who seeks comfort over transformation and conformity over obedience.

I pray for God to make me more like Jesus, but then I don’t always like how He answers those prayers. If I’m wanting to be like Jesus, how can I not expect to go through difficulties to be like the one Scripture called a Man of Sorrows? Jesus even said that those who believe in Him would have trouble, and if the world hated Him, they’d surely hate us, too.

I think every single person who claims Jesus as Lord and Savior will need a wake-up call at some point. We all need a kick in the seat of the pants, theologically speaking. We might even need a rude awakening once or twice. Not because suffering is fun and enjoyable but because we might not respond any other way.

I’m thankful God’s more patient with me than I am with Him. I’m thankful God’s not about to let me settle for a mediocre life of lukewarmness but will poke and prod and push and drag me (sometimes kicking and screaming) into holiness.

Move me, Lord.