This isn't what I am supposed to be doing right now. Not by the standards of worldly order, anyhow.
There is a simple thought creating a consuming fire in me though. A thought that is about to gnaw it's way out of me if I don't turn loose of it.
You know those "God" moments when there is nothing coincidental happening and you keep getting the same message over and over and over and over again until you absolutely cannot ignore it? Yeah, so do I. They are mysterious and beautiful, yet sometimes you know that your heart is about to get a fine tuning of divine proportions when that knock keeps coming. Mine came today. What a glorious ache it caused, too.
The Holy Spirit kept leading me to scriptures about the death and resurrection of Christ. I kept chalking it up to it being Lent, Holy Week, etc. I should have known that I was supposed to go deeper. Finally, I did. As I sat and soaked in the images of a dying God-man, my heart filled with love. Then anguish. Then despair. In my despair I was yelling at the cowardly disciples. Unable to understand how anyone could just walk away from that scene and not have their hearts ripped from their cages. Then I remembered that not everyone walked away.
Mary Magdalene. Mary, the mother of Jesus. The women. John. The ones who followed Him where ever His blessed feet led. Then the moment of epiphany; I would've been a Jesus groupie too. I would've followed Him anywhere. Everywhere. Can't follow Him into the temple? Okay, I will wait outside and swoon at the first glimpse of His face. Not supposed to be in here washing His feet with my hair? Call security. Don't like it when I let someone else do the work while I sit at His feet and lose myself in the sound of His voice? My bad. Have your people contact my people. Yeah, I'm trying to peek in the tomb, I just want to see Him one more time. No, I don't need medication.
You see where I am going with this? You cannot encounter the person of Jesus Christ and ever be the same. It kind of blows my mind that He didn't have a Beatles-like entourage following Him everywhere He went. No, instead Jesus had Pilate the Bounty Hunter putting a price on His head. Because of me. And you. Because of two people who engaged in conversation with a snake (who does that anyways??) and ate some bad fruit.
Unfortunately, that snake is still slitherin' about with a fang-faced vengeance. However, in my most humble opinion, the "fall" wasn't the most pivotal plot twist in the Holy Bible. The "rise" was. An empty tomb spoke louder than that snake could ever dare. The emptiness of a grave is what makes my life full. This thought is the one that haunts me though...
Why do I hesitate to follow Christ where ever He leads me in the now? Why do I feel like I would follow Him in the "then"? He has shown me through bloody tears, pierced hands and a pale, lifeless body that He loves me. What more do I want? Do I ask my Savior to prove it to me further and with such little regard to what He has already done for me? Father, forgive me. Do I continue to weigh the "gifts" God has trusted me with against their fruits? Father, forgive me. I'm being soul-bearing honest here and I hope you are too. I don't want to follow Christ because of what might be in it for me. I want to follow Christ because with Him, I am free to be me. The best version of me. Would Mary Magdalene have any reservations following Jesus now? Something tells me, no. To her, there was no alternative. She knew where He delivered her from and there was NO going back. Sister, I'm with you! Impart that devoted spirit to me, convict my heart towards love, truth, life and help me to shake that snake off into the fire! My talents cannot be buried and I'm no slave to an unkind master, I am free and love is my master. I just want to know Him. To be a part of His inner circle and recline at the table. Just a little longer...
So yeah, a simple thought has my heart on fire for my Savior in a new way. I can sit and ponder His pale, tortured, bloodless body or I can claim the blood that poured out for me and rejoice in His risen body. From the grave He rose, from the throne He reigns and from now until forever, He lives. As I let go of the ways that I've learned to protect myself and trust in Jesus, I am finding a sense of completeness. A sense of purpose. A sense of what living is all about. Others. Not me. Not my happiness. My happiness comes in feeling the Holy Spirit of my Savior thriving in my being and being able to recognize that the gifts He gave me, they are a part of Him. The very character of Jesus is alive in the gifts He so earnestly gave me. They won't be buried. They won't be put into a file for a later date. These gifts are given so we can literally love the hell out of our neighbors. Just like He did for us.
I guess when it comes down to it, I'm not really a fan. I'm a follower.
"Love one another as I have loved you."
