When we were in Israel, one day we took a drive beyond the city of Jerusalem. Three miles later, down the back side of the Mount of Olives, we entered Bethany -- a little white-washed village that hadn't changed since the days of Lazarus, Mary and Martha. While I waited in the van, my friend Bunny spied an old, bearded Arab sitting at a table. "I'm going to go see what he's selling," she exclaimed. Moments later she returned holding out her hand to show me pea-sized brown dried seeds. "Would you look at these?! They're mustard seeds! If we have faith the size of one of these..." she said, picking one up, "we can move mountains."
"But they look kind of big," I frowned. "I thought the mustard seed was the smallest of all seeds." Bunny told me she said the same thing to the Arab vendor. "Let me show you what he did," she said. She then cracked one of the seeds open and gently spread its contents across her palm. Bunny cupped her hands so the breeze would not disturb the infinitesimally tiny black specks... mustard seeds. The pea-sized pod contained thousands of breathlessly small seeds. Bunny dusted off her hand and sealed the package of pods. "And we're going to scatter these wherever we pray on this trip!"
