Han Solo, the Millennium Falcon, and Faith

          
  

   

            Talking about faith and living by faith is rather like dieting. When you announce that you’re on a diet, there is the expectation from those you tell that at some point—perhaps soon—your clothes will grow baggy as your size diminishes. But as I write and “talk” with readers known and unknown, I still long for faith to kick in, just as anyone wants a diet to kick in.

            Do you remember Han Solo of the movie Star Wars? He had that junky spaceship that refused to jump to hyperdrive at the most inopportune times. Then, just as the evil forces nearly won the day, the Millennium Falcon converted to getaway speed, and the heroes escaped.

            When the forces of evil loom over me, when the clouds of doubt billow around me, I want to shift into “hyperfaith” and leave the darkness in the dark. Perhaps I’ve been thinking about this all wrong, though. What if I moved into “hyperstand” instead of hyperfaith?

            Rather than jetting out of a situation, a mood, what if I stood against evil? Could that be as simple as a morning a couple of days ago? When I got up, that pesky rain cloud already hung overhead and followed me into the bathroom. I knew it wanted to be my buddy all day. I wasn’t interested in that kind of friendship. So as the blow dryer roared, the old, familiar words of the hymn “When Morning Gilds the Skies” supplemented the hum of the dryer. Soon “Holy, Holy, Holy” followed.

            As I think about how the day started, I recall some of the words from a verse of “When Morning Gilds the Skies”:  “The powers of darkness fear when this sweet chant they hear, may Jesus Christ be praised!” Would you believe it? That rain cloud disappeared like a balloon in a cactus farm. It wasn’t about running—it wasn’t all about a quick shift into getaway speed. It was about the faith of standing.

            Now, isn’t that just so nice, neat and tidy, you might say. And it was. That’s just what happened that morning.  Two days later things were different, however.  That cloud followed me all day, in spite of the fact that I sang “Give Me Jesus” throughout the morning, in spite of the fact I told God that I loved him and Jesus so very much, in spite of listening to truth during those gray hours.  That troublesome cloud lingered, and I was discouraged and ashamed. It would be dishonest to tell you that it was a good day. It wasn’t. It was a hard, long day. I felt like a failure, tempted to close down this blog due to hypocrisy.

            Both days are true—one of victory, one of defeat. Tomorrow, however, is another day—another day where God is already at work, another day to exercise and stretch my faith, another day to become more like the Savior.