Shelter from the Storm?

I think that only when I am hurt,
and deeply hurt,
do I learn what it means to forgive.

I believe that only when I am sorrowful
do I understand God's joy in my life
as not dependent upon
my own family, possessions, circumstances,
or feelings of self-sufficiency.

I know that only when I feel alone
do I recognize God as my true and
only source of life.

I realize that only when I suffer
do I really see those who suffer.

I understand that only when
I recognize my own sin
do I look upon the disgressions of others
with compassion and love
instead of judgment.

If I am more like Christ
when I feel alone and humbled,

If I draw into His presence the most
when I am sorrowful, burdened, and hurt,

why do I always pray for happiness, security, and escape from difficulty?
Why do I always pray for ease, simplicity, and assurance?

Because my meager faith doesn't want the storm.

Paul, in Philippians 1: 14, wanted and accepted the storm when he said,

"Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly."

He rejoiced in his chains--in being in prison, in being beaten and persecuted. He believed that it was for the best. It furthered Christ, and to him, "To Live is Christ and to die is gain."

I wonder if I could weather the storm like Paul or maybe even Job.
I wonder if I could have that kind of faith.

But the truth is, when I think about this,
my faith feels miniscule.

I have trouble accepting storms
significantly less great than Paul's
or Job's storms.

I have trouble accepting anything less than pure joy,
tranquility, and infinite understanding.

But He says that faith as small as a mustard seed can
move mountains.

I hope my faith can compare to a mustard seed.

I want to move mountains.