When Faith Stops Whispering And Starts Moving Mountains
Home
Key verses: Matthew 17:20, Mark 11:24
The first time I said my mountain out loud, I felt my throat tightened. No, it wasn’t poetic. It was literally months of mortgage payments behind, solicitors wanting to be paid and me counting five pence coins on the bedroom floor and placing them in five pounds plastic bank-bags. I didn’t have a mustard, but with each coin I counted, and every moment I was alone or in a space by myself I was in prayer. Now, to someone who isn’t a believer in God or a higher being, this will very likely be dismissed, and yes, there were times when voices in my head were saying to me, “why bother?” But I kept praying anyway.
I learned that prayer was not a trick to twist results. It was the way I kept from breaking into pieces. I spoke to God like a man who was tired of pretending. I said the quiet parts out loud. I said I am ashamed. I said I am scared. I said I wanted a way through that was honest and steady. Then I stood up and did one small thing that matched the prayer. I wrote a list titled Proof. Not proof that God exists, proof that I showed up. I called someone I had avoided for quite some time. I sent an email requesting a meeting. I fixed a line in my budget I had kept blurry because the truth hurt. The list grew one act at a time. The day did not change its face, but my footing began to change beneath me.
I kept the coin bags in my bedside drawer as a reminder. Not of poverty, of persistence. Every bag said keep going. Every bag said you are not the sum of your invoices. On Sundays, I laid them on the bed and prayed for the week. I asked for wisdom more than rescue, because wisdom gives a man a way to walk even when rescue is slow. I asked for courage to make phone calls instead of excuses. I asked for a clean heart that does not bite when it is afraid.
There were days that felt like nothing. The mailbox still spoke in the hard voices of demand. The phone still brought numbers I did not want to see. I learned a strange skill. I learned to separate noise from assignment. The noise said you are finished. The assignment said send the proposal by noon, go for a walk, speak kindly to the person who is also carrying a weight. When I obeyed the assignment, the noise lost volume. Not silence, but less authority.
Mountains do not usually fall with trumpet blasts. They erode under a patient stream. Belief is that stream. Scripture calls it faith that can move mountains. Psychology uses words like expectancy and self-efficacy. Different languages, shared insight. When you believe your effort matters, you are more likely to take the next step, and the next step multiplies the odds that something shifts. Researchers have shown that people who expect improvement put in more deliberate practice, and deliberate practice changes results. You do not need a laboratory to see it. Look at your own life. When you expected nothing, how much did you try. When you expected something meaningful, how long did you stay with it.
After about five months I started a small ledger, naming it Moved. I promised myself I would not track outcomes in that ledger. I was not going to feed my pride with wins or feed my fear with losses. I would track obedience. Called. Sent. Showed up. Asked. Learned. The five words became a path through the grass. Day by day the grass laid down, and the path became visible. I did not need to be brilliant. I needed to be faithful.
People ask where I found belief in that season. I did not find it as a feeling. I found it as a practice. I found it when I put the phone in another room and scribbled for twenty minutes before the day could argue with me. I found it when I walked for thirty minutes and felt my lungs insist on life. I found it when I blessed my own house speaking out loud, even while the walls held the echo of worry. Blessing is not denial. Blessing is direction. You point your words toward the future you are building, then you put your feet on the same road.
There were small signs that arrived like birds at the edge of the garden. Out of the blue a friend sent a message at the right hour, the kind that reminds you, you’re not unseen. About a week later I had an introduction to someone who then became a partner. None of it was dramatic. All of it was real. Even my sleep changed. I began to sleep like a man who had chosen a straight path, even if the path was steep.
I also learned to tell the truth quickly. When I failed to keep a promise to myself, I wrote it down and asked why, not as a whip, as a mechanic. Was the promise too big for the day I had. Was the time wrong. Was I hiding in busyness to avoid the one task that mattered. The answers were sometimes embarrassing, and also freeing. Humility clears the fog. Pride multiplies it. I chose clarity because clarity lets a person move.
Faith is not a shout. It is a steady tap on stone, again and again, until even the mountain grows tired of pretending to be permanent. Jesus did not say you need a boulder of faith. He said mustard seed faith can do unexpected things. Tiny, yes. Inactive, no. The seed holds life inside it that is out of proportion to its size. You and I carry that same possibility. The question is not whether the mountain is big, the question is whether the seed will be planted.
The mountain did not dramatically throw itself into the sea. It cracked in lines that widened. The letters changed tone. The numbers softened. A room that had felt narrow began to give me elbow room. The house felt different, not because the paint changed, but because the man inside did. I walked from room to room and said thank you in a voice I recognised as my own
Science gives us another window here. The Pygmalion effect shows that higher expectations subtly change behaviour, and changed behaviour changes outcomes. Self-determination theory suggests we move better when we feel competence, relatedness, and autonomy. A small faith practice can touch each. Competence grows when you complete even one proof action. Relatedness grows when you tell a friend your mountain’s name and ask them to listen. Autonomy grows when you decide on one thing you will do, not ten, and keep your word.
You do not need a louder voice. You need a smaller excuse. Name one mountain. Choose one act that announces your allegiance to the future you are building. Write it down. Tell one person you trust. Let time and fidelity do their quiet work. There will be days when you feel nothing. There will be days when you feel brave. Both kinds of days count. Seeds germinate underground before they appear in the light.
Try this today
Name a single mountain. Write it at the top of a page.
Take a five minute proof action that aligns with your request.
Start a Moved ledger. Record only actions in faith, not outcomes. Review it every Sunday with gratitude.
Read next
Mindset by Carol Dweck, Grit by Angela Duckworth, Mark 11 in parallel with Matthew 17.
© 2025 Life Word Power, a brand of 7 & Blue Limited. All rights reserved.
No part of this website or its content may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission.,bank bags
