Some like to say that the bravest thing Christians can do is defend their faith, to stand their ground and refuse to change. 

But it’s easier to defend our faith than to subject it to scrutiny.
It’s easier to dig in our heels than to go exploring. 
It’s easier to regurgitate answers than to ask good questions. 
It’s easier cling to our beliefs than to hold them with open hands.
It’s easier to assume we’re always right than to acknowledge we may be wrong. 

I don’t want an easy faith, I want a brave faith.

I want a faith that takes risks, that asks questions, that experiments, that evolves, that thrives amidst change and obeys amidst doubt. I want a faith that engages both my heart and my head, a faith that operates out of love, not fear, a faith that leaps when it needs to and crawls when it has to. 

I want the kind of faith that moves mountains precisely because it is small: small enough to need, small enough grow, small enough to surrender to a God that is much bigger than it will ever be. 

I don't want an easy faith.

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