Run to find Jesus! You are sure to find this amazing savior who promised to give you life in exchange for death, eternal mercy and joy instead of dark isolation, and a restored position as a child of the Most High God! Because God is a fulfiller of promises.
Hold on a minute while I take a deep breath. Has this been a busy fall/season/year for you? Are you ready to slow down? Do you, like me, have ideas of being intentional and focused on the real meaning of Christmas this year? Do you, like me, have those ideas every year, yet commitments and work and life and making merry seem to spin ever faster as Christmas morning approaches, leaving you breathless and a little empty? Well, this little blog of mine is where I slow down. I don’t blog to promote anything or make any money. I blog to remember why I write, who I am, and why taking time to breathe and sit in grace is absolutely life-saving. Let’s be saved from the swells of the season together. For the next few weeks, let’s quietly gaze upon this: Simply Jesus. That’s all that Christmas is: Jesus Christ with us. The promised messiah, the sign to the Jews ended up being the biggest surprise gift this whole world needed. All those years the …
God sees you.
He is keeping track of the misery you endure.
Your very tears are catalogued and counted.
And God will rise up to help you.
Can we say with David: It is God’s word I praise and in Him I trust and I am not afraid? Can we say it, too? Even with quivering voice, a touch of fear, or a cloud of doubt, can we speak it out loud into the dark?
Every day since Lazarus walked, alive and whole, out of that tomb seemed like a new gift to unwrap. Everyone speaks of second chances, but when you really get one, the air around you is electric with possibility and hope. I learned something on that awful, wonderful day when Jesus came walking up our lane and we knew we’d have to tell him he was too late: Lazarus had succumbed to the sickness that had wasted his body. We’d washed his spare, slack limbs and rubbed the oils into his skin, wound the cloth around him and set him to rest in the family tomb. I’d fallen at Jesus’ feet, just crumpled with despair. I had so many questions but I just blurted out, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” We knew Jesus could have healed Lazarus. So lost I was. What would Martha and I do now? What were we supposed to even believe? And Jesus’ tears matched my own and his shoulders shook from the sobbing and …
And you know what? I wish, oh I wish, I could bottle up that moment and breathe its truth in my day-to-day life. I wish I could mix an endless supply of it and pour it all over for everyone else. When I worry in the night, or pray for a friend or hear stories of terror in far flung parts of the globe or wonder if a pedophile might be stalking my neighborhood, I long for the suspended moments where I swung in the space of existence completely at trust, at peace. No more questions or answers. Just faith distilled into peace.