Dr. J.B. Gambrel, an accomplished captain during the American Civil War, became a pastor and seminary professor following the war. As a speaker, he was known for his eloquence and humor.
In one of his writings, he tells an amusing story about Gen. Stonewall Jackson’s campaign through the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia during the spring of 1862. The incident supposedly happened when Jackson’s army ended up on one side of a river when it needed to be on the other side. The only way to get that accomplished was by building a bridge. Jackson engaged his engineers to plan and build the bridge, and the gentleman retreated to start planning. In the meanwhile, Jackson shared the immediate need with his wagon master, telling him of the urgency of the matter: The wagon train should get to the other side of the river quickly. Without hesitation, the wagon master started gathering logs, rocks and fence rails, and started building a bridge.
Long before the break of dawn, Jackson was awakened by the news that all the wagons and artillery had crossed the river. He was astounded to find out that the wagon master had managed to execute the project on his own. “Where are the engineers and what are they doing?” the general supposedly asked. The wagon master’s only reply was that they had spent the night in their tent, drawing up plans for a bridge.
Whether the story happened exactly as told by Dr. Gambrel or not, its significance nevertheless reminded me of a principle that I have grown to appreciate and believe in: Sometimes, faith without action is no faith at all.
I believe that, for many people of faith, this concept presents a true challenge. I have heard stories of people diagnosed with terminal diseases and who believed that they must reject all scientific treatments, relying only on supernatural healing. Entire denominations reject medical assistance, claiming that the healing will certainly come if one’s faith is strong enough.
I don’t intend to judge the sincerity on anyone’s faith by any means, but I firmly believe that God uses different methods to bring about healing and deliverance. Sometimes, he acts alone. Miracles happen, and we did not do a thing. However, more often than not, we are required to do our part.
I personally believe that often doing something is the greatest act of faith. Simply because it requires that we believe in ourselves as well.
Even as I type this article, my faith is being tested in that regard. I have received an assignment which has become very difficult to complete. I have gathered the “logs, rocks and fence nails,” but honestly do not see how I can build that bridge to cross the river successfully. I know, however, that this is exactly where my faith is being stretched, tested and strengthened once again: Will I keep on working and trusting God to guide me to the other side, or will I cross my arms and not move until I see his hand at work?
Saint Augustine, one of the most important Christian theologians and philosophers of the first century Roman church, gives me the answer: “Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.”
Augustine’s words challenge me. Because as I look back, I certainly remember times in my life when God acted in miraculous ways — times when I did not lift a finger and yet, deliverance, provision or healing came. But I have also witnessed many times when doors were opened, but not before I knocked; healing was received, but not until a doctor’s hands were at work; and dreams were fulfilled, but not until I did my part.
Indeed, I believe there is a time to pray and be still … and then there is a time to pray and act. Both require faith. Just as it happened to the wagon master in the story, let us remember that sometimes the miracle only comes when we put our hands to work, and start building that impossible bridge.
Patricia Holbrook is a columnist, author, blogger and international speaker. Visit her website www.soaringwithHim.com. For speaking engagements and comments, email pholbrook@soaringwithHim.com
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