I've been thinking a lot about faith lately. It seems to be a lot like a testimony to me - I don't really realize I have one in the heat of the present moment. If I break it down, though, and then add all the little pieces back up again, it's obvious I have one (faith and a testimony). This realization (for me, anyway) doesn't seem to come until I'm harvesting the beans or the corn or the raspberries or picking the fruit from the branches of the tree. When I see what has grown and been produced, I understand faith. Does that make me a 'Doubting Thomas'? The strength of my faith alludes me while I'm preparing the ground and planting seeds and watering and fertilizing and weeding. Those actions are all based on my faith, though. Faith that I will soon be eating beans and corn and raspberries and apples and peaches and tomatoes if I do all that I'm supposed to do.
Heavenly Father didn't tell us to whisper pleadingly to the mountain, "If it's alright with you, could you please shift a little bit?" The scriptures tell us to flat out 'say' [utter aloud, pronounce, state, report, repeat, recite, suppose, or assume] to the mountain, "Be ye removed" and it will be removed or they tell us we can 'command' and the very trees and mountains will obey us. I'm just beginning to understand the power we are given if we dare to believe.
As a post script, and to clarify, the above was definitely just a hypothetical, abstract example. I can't even irrigate Alan's garden right, let alone do all the things that have to be done to make things grow! I didn't want anyone to get the idea I was taking credit for something I don't do! What I can do, though, is bottle and preserve what Alan does grow and that brings me to . . .
. . . this delicious new Salsa recipe I found. It has peaches and mangoes in it and I love it. So far the ones who have tried it are split as to whether it can stay or not but I like it!