Growing into our Faith

“You’ll grow into it,” was my mother’s constant refrain when I looked at her through the mirror in the clothing store, pleading with my facial expression not to buy the pants that felt like pantaloons. Just once, I wondered, could I get clothes that fit? They’d be so comfortable, I imagined. I wouldn’t need to grow.

I remembered this frequent occurrence when a preacher spoke of God giving us “a crown to grow into.” I’d never heard the life of faith described in such a way, but it made me think of those times with my mother. Like then, we need to be willing to put on a faith that doesn’t fit, one we need to grow into. It means looking silly. It means being uncomfortable. I suppose, those are the prices of growth. 

How much better would it be to wear a faith that fit? We could finally be comfortable and not need to grow. We wouldn’t have to change the way we live or think. We could go to church and never feel uncomfortable. We could sit in the pew and not think anything new. (No wonder people love singing, Give me that old-time religion.) We could watch the news, talk with friends, and only affirm what we already believe. Oh, how much easier that would be!

But I know, deep down, that we were born to grow. Because we worship “a God who passes all understanding,” how can we possibly expect to remain where we are, spiritually? And yet that is what we so often desire, and what we too often do. 

So, today, I’m going to put on shoes that cause my feet to slide, pants that scrunch when I pull my belt tight, and shirts that force me to roll up my sleeves. I’ll have to live with the funny way I look, and the uncomfortable way I feel, knowing that I’ll grow into them, just like my mother, and the preacher, said.