Faith of a Child

The first time we ever visited Oaxaca was in 1992. Driving up from Guatemala we were struck with the contrast between the lush green vegetation we left behind and the dry barren landscape of southern Mexico. What further amazed me was how little traffic we passed on the way up the mountain toward Oaxaca. At one point in our journey, a full two hours went by without seeing a single oncoming vehicle. I made a flippant remark to the effect that it was almost creepy that no cars, trucks, or buses were coming out of Oaxaca.

Just then we rounded a bend in the road and discovered an incredibly long line of parked vehicles as far as the eye could see. In typical Mexican fashion, no one seemed remotely perturbed over the unavoidable delay. Truck drivers were resting in hammocks slung under their trailers. Total strangers were conversing in what little shade could be found, discussing the problem at hand.

It seems a huge truck had cut a turn in the road too sharply, and become wedged literally between a rock (boulder) and a hard place (the mountain!). No traffic could pass that spot in the road until equipment came to chip away at the mountain. There were no alternate routes in or out of Oaxaca except going five or six hours out of the way, so people just waited patiently.

To get my mind off the lack of "public facilities" or even a bush besides skinny cacti, I put the baby in a stroller and took the boys for a walk toward the pile-up, knowing Jim could pick us up down the road if the traffic should miraculously begin to move. As we neared the site of the problem, the boys began asking me to translate what people were saying about the truck. Christopher, the seven-year-old firstborn, grasped the situation easily. Unlike me, though, he did not see what the big deal was.

Very simply he asked one childlike question:

"Doesn't the Bible say that with faith we can move mountains?"

(He told them, "Because of your lack of faith. I tell you with certainty, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you. Matt. 17:20)

With the weary realistic "faith" of an adult, I began to pray silently that God would work a miracle and honor His Word and the faith of these little children. Christopher, Timmy, and Mikey (and probably even Hannah in her stroller) all stretched out their arms toward the wreck and commanded the mountain to move. Within moments a cheer went up accompanied by the news: "It budged!" After hours of being impossibly wedged, it suddenly and inexplicably moved. People began returning to their cars, packing up their hammocks, and starting their engines.

No one could figure out how the truck could have maneuvered out of that tight spot, but my children knew the truth. The truck hadn't moved - the mountain had!