It’s a surprising little word — if. For such a short word, it holds an abundance of excuses.
Personally, I could buy a new car if I had a dollar for every time I used the word “if” to explain away my own flaws. “If I wasn’t so tired. If we had more money. If the kids weren’t always on my last nerve. If I had more talent. If life wasn’t so hard.”
If, if, if.
I don’t always feel like being the salt of the earth. Can’t someone else season the dish? Sometimes it’s more than I want to give, more than I want to do, more than I want to be. Sharing my bread, sheltering the oppressed, clothing the naked, and accompanying my neighbor — doing these things in the literal or figurative sense can be completely exhausting. Mediocrity is so easy. It’s so comfortable.
But if. It looms again, that short but powerful word.
“If” can be deep with excuses, but it can also be wide with possibility. If I bring it all to God. If I stop relying on my own abilities. If I prayed more than I talked. If I make my heart firm. If my faith does not rest on human wisdom.
If not me, who? If not now, when?
“You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.” — Matthew 5:14