Sunday Bible Study: Have a little faith, this will work out

It’s been awhile since I’ve written one of these. It has not, however, been awhile since I’ve read the Bible. I’ve continued reading, every single morning. The settings change. The habit hasn’t. I’ve read at Raffe Paulis’s kitchen table in Chicago; at a Starbucks in Seaside, Oregon; in a poolside chair in La Paz, Mexico; in the parking lot of an LDS church before a service; in Bellevue, Washington; on a deck in Deep Creek, Maryland, at, of all places, a bachelor party; on my own deck in Hermosa Beach, California.

I’ve read about Nehemiah building his wall. I’ve read on the trials and unwavering faith of Job. I’ve read of the hopelessness of a life without God in Ecclesiastes. Of the beauty of a life with God in Song of Songs. I’ve read the story of Jonah fleeing God, only to be returned to his mission through the belly of a whale. I’ve read the Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and, just yesterday morning, I finished Acts.

I suppose I could have made the time and written individual posts on all of those, though at this moment in the beach volleyball season, I’m writing 15-plus stories a week and traveling so much that a week in the same place, without a tournament, feels like a Christmas miracle in August. I’m glad I didn’t write weekly, as was my initial goal when I began reading the Bible. I wouldn’t have been able to put the proper time and thought into each of them that I would have liked. Wouldn’t have really let the messages soak in. I’d have written because I’d have felt like I was supposed to. Instead, I jotted notes down in my journal – the “log” as my little brother, Cody, calls it.

And now that I’ve alas slept in, taken a morning off of volleyball, and given myself the time to review all of those books, I can forget about the minutiae and see the one theme that stretches across all of those books mentioned, and the ones that aren’t.

It will seem obvious to you, but it wasn’t to me, to be honest. My Bible has 695 pages in it. I’m through 622 of them, and I can distill those 622 pages into two words: Have faith.

This will work out.

It worked out for Job, despite God literally allowing Satan to do whatever he wanted to the poor guy, just to show that with a little bit – or a lot a bit – of faith, all things are possible. It worked out for Daniel, who, with faith, was able to hang out in a lion’s den, make a few pals, and come out unscathed. It worked out for Nehemiah who, despite every type of construction adversity one could think of, built his wall.

It worked out for every sick or blind or hungry person who sought Christ in the Gospels. With a little bit of faith, all of them were healed, in one way or the other.

The Bible is a book — or massive collection of them, really — that can be easily complicated. One pass through Leviticus will make anyone turn away from faith forever. But one pass through the entire Bible, and seeing what can happen with just a little faith, is legitimately life-changing.

These past few months have been hard. Not just on me, but for the beach volleyball community as a whole. We lost one of our own. Nobody could be at fault for wondering why, for looking up at the heavens and shaking their head, wondering where The Big Man went. I’d never been through anything like that before, losing someone so close, but I turned to the only thing I knew could help the most: Words.

Yesterday morning, I re-read Chris Ballard’s excellent story on Monty Williams, a former player and coach in the NBA whose wife died in a car accident.

“This,” he said in his fantastic eulogy, “will work out.”

He goes on to quote a number of scriptures, all of which, not surprisingly to me anymore, are underscored with the same theme: Have faith.

This will work out.

And it has.

Last week, the beach community was able to turn an awful event into three enormous blessings in the form of a scholarship, one that will allow the three awarded players – Logan Webber, Megan Nash, Kacey Losik – the opportunity to travel to tournaments without as much financial strain.

The Bible, I don’t believe, does not ever say, in those words: “This will work out.” It does so through stories. The stories of everyone who has a little faith. The story of the woman who believed so much in Christ she thought that just by touching his clothes, she’d be healed. And she was. The story of Saul, whose eyes were opened and faith instilled so deeply that he turned from a feverish prosecutor of all things Christ to the man we now know as the Apostle Paul. The story of a man who had been paralyzed for 38 years, but with a little faith, was able to pick up his mat and walk.

All with a little faith.

“This,” Williams said repeatedly in his eulogy, “is hard. But it will work out.”

Never in my life have I found those words to be truer. It doesn’t even matter the book you open to in the Bible, you’ll find that message throughout: Have a little faith.

This will work out.