Who is Jesus?

As I was walking from the Co-op (campus book/memorabilia store) to the Tower, I was approached by four different people trying to hand me missionary stuff. Three of them were trying to give me a green, pocket-sized New Testament (plus Psalms and Proverbs) while the other one tried to hand me a track (why are they called "tracks"?) that was also a church advertisement. Two of the them were successful. This is my third pocket New Testament. If anybody wants it, message me somehow.

Anyway, this impersonal, semi-invasive way of "witnessing" got me thinking about the real deal. That's right, I don't consider the handing out of tracks to be the real deal. I'm not saying it's bad to hand out tracks or Bibles, but I think it's a bit delusional to expect to attract people to Christ that way. We know that the Word of God is never useless or ineffective [Isaiah 55:11]. So, someone is definitely benefitting from the hand-outs. But, if I wasn't in love with Jesus and someone handed me a Bible before I could think to politely refuse, I would view it as Christian propaganda and set it on an elevated flat surface in a place to which I didn't plan on returning.

I tend to be judgmental in my decision-making though, so I'm trying to be more open-minded and discerning. Then again, I'm only trying to be so because I'm in love with Jesus. He makes me want to be open to good things. So, again, I'm inclined to think that Bible pushing is an ineffective way of ministering to the lost. It is very effective at supplying church members with the Most Dangerous Book Ever Written though.

This train of thought made me think about how I would minister to someone who was genuinely open to the Word. If the Spirit led me, how would I convince someone else that Christ's way is better than the way of society or the world or whatever? Now, I tend to speak (or write, if you will) about ministering in the hypothetical sense because I suck at it. Seriously, I'm not good. If someone asked me to write about Christ, then I'd be totally comfortable. I love to write. I blog about my thoughts and feelings because it seems entirely natural to me. I even enjoy reading. Visual words speak to me. But, people don't ask for essays. Well, I do sometimes but people laugh. Most people prefer to dialogue. There's something wonderful about oral/audial communication that just speaks to us... Seriously, it's enjoyable to talk.

If people don't ask for essays, why am I writing this? I'm writing because it's what I do. And, the next time someone asks me something that relates, I'll have a good idea of what my response will be.

Back to the point: ministering. At the heart of every ministry, there must be one question. Ministries do things. Some ministries are simple and involve only conversations and righteous living. Some ministries are complicated and involve hundreds of people doing things for thousands of people. But, I don't classify an act as a ministry unless it results from the desire to answer one powerful question: Who is Jesus?

That's a tough question. It's tough because, if there's an adequate answer, it's long and not simple. I think the answer to the question reveals an incredible amount of information about the answerer. "Who is Jesus" exposes motives and desires and depth of understanding. In fact, as I'm sitting here writing this sentence and forming the rest of this blog post in my head, I'm wondering if I'm completely wrong about some things. Maybe "Who is Jesus" actually DOES get simpler with increased understanding... Even if it does, I am constantly limited by my own current level of understanding. So, I'll just write about who Jesus is to me and pray that someone's life is enriched somehow by reading it. Maybe the next time I write or speak about Him, I'll have a better answer.

Who is Jesus?

Jesus is my best friend. It's kind of strange in a worldly sort of sense to say so, but it is truth. My best friend has no singular body I can hug or tackle. I've thought about wrestling with Jesus a bit. Would He totally own me because He knows everything in the universe, or would He let me beat Him every time because He knows His worth comes from God, not winning? I guess I'll have to wait until I get to heaven to find out for sure. Anyway, Jesus is my best friend. He sticks with me through everything. If life is good, it's because my Lord has made it to be so; Jesus sticks with me and laughs at the silly ways I do things. If life is hard, it's because my Father is challenging me or allowing me to be challenged to continually live eternally; Jesus sticks with me and comforts me and reminds me that He's there even when it doesn't feel like it. Jesus sticks with me. He doesn't even leave when I go to sleep.

In my mind, I always see Jesus as a dark-skinned, homely, long haired guy who is a little taller than me. I frequently imagine Him sitting near a camp fire with His disciples and looking at me across the fire with a the reminiscent sort of half smile my mom is always making. When I know I'm in the wrong, I see Him shake His head, eyes filled with pity and regret, then He says, "Don't you remember what you're worth to Me"? When I'm victorious, He smiles and shares in the celebration. When I'm worried, He scoots over and we sit together in silence. Every so often, when I could do with the reminder, He says, "I'm still here, and I still love you."

Jesus is a master listener. He hears what I like and dislike and want and avoid and feel and think and laugh about. He listens when I ask for advice or guidance and has an awesome way of surprising me with His responses. I guess it's just the human in me, but I'm always in awe when my prayer is answered. It's sort of conflicting. I pray to a God who listens and answers, but I'm in shock when He does. Maybe it's just that His goodness is so much better than the good I imagine...

Have I not already said that? Jesus is good. He is shockingly good. Every day seems like it was made for me just so I could find out how good He is. I really don't even know how to begin to describe His goodness. It's just so pure. Jesus is the hope in me. Even when I suffer, when grades are stressing me out, when I've got a stomach virus, when I get a citation, when I'm rejected, I'm still filled with this hope that things will turn out good in the end. I'm absolutely certain that the hope doesn't come from me. But, it's there. It's there because Jesus is so mind-bogglingly good. It's ridiculous.

Jesus is accepting. My name is Curtis Hefner, and I have a problem. I'm lousy at living righteously. I'm selfish and obstinate and I laugh at things Christ wouldn't. Even when I'm trying my very best, my life is full of failure. The greatest offering I can give God is like soggy tampons [Isaiah 64:6]. Still, Jesus accepts me. Loves me even. He must be crazy about me. If He wasn't, He would've left by now. I'm awful at reciprocating. I ignore Him sometimes, then run back when I realize why my day is going so badly. He takes me back every single time. He never even jokes about not taking me back. He knows all the garbage that doesn't get published on this blog, and still He loves me. And, His love rules me.

Jesus is my salvation. He's the intermediary between God and me. He tells me I'm better than the idiotic things I do. He tells me to follow Him. His words rock me to the core. He calls out all of the passion I possess. He defines me. Every thing that I do is for the glory of His name, or it's worthless. He holds me together. He is the target, and I am the arrow. He is my life. And, without Him, I wouldn't be here today. The world is too hard. I'm too soft. I could never handle it alone. He makes it so that I don't have to.

I could sing His praises for ever and still miss things. Now's not the time for that though. Now, I'm simply going to live my life trying to find out more about who He is. It's really all I'm capable of anyway.

I'm going to screw up sometimes. Sometimes, the things I try will fail. Lucky for me, the God I serve is greater than my inadequacies. Even in my failed attempts, He will be glorified. And, THAT is the reason for the hope that is in me. [1 Peter 3:15]

What is it in us that pleas for justice? What is it that jumps and screams and stands in awe of sacrifice? Why is it beautiful? How should we even know that it is in the first place? What is it inside of us that defies tyranny and rejoices in redemption?

I am convinced that it is that God-given, mysterious fire we call love.

Love leaps at justice done anywhere. Though it is of no consequence to the observer but the simple knowledge of what has been done; though there is pain engrained in justice, for justice is deliverance; though it is no about glory or grace or form, it is beautiful.

It is beautiful because it is what we yearn for beneath our reason and method. It is beautiful because it frees the known and the unknown. It is beautiful because it should be.

Justice occurs when something, which should have happened already, finally does. And, its happening stirs us. It calls to our closest selves and shouts and cries and laughs. Its happening renews our faith and brightens the dark places.

In its true, pure form, justice has been, is, and will always be a result of selfless love. Justice is just a tiny glimpse of the world as it could be, should be, will be. Justice is just the smallest inkling of the goodness of God.

Justice cannot be served, though it results from service. Justice cannot be bought or sold or traded. It is always given. Justice is neither rebuke nor revenge, but redemption.

Justice is not the spoil of war, but the reward of peace. It is not that the killers have been slain, but that the innocent have not. It is protection and preservation of what is good.

It is grace... grace which cannot be purchased with the blood of a thousand bullets, cannot be taken by the stares of a thousand troops. It is grace which can only be given by Grace Himself.

Some may trust in horses. Some may trust in chariots. But, we will trust in the name of the Lord our God. [Psalm 20:7]

Living Eternally

I think it rather odd how I am affected by small things. I usually don't even realize just how affected I've been until much later when I'm able to look back.

"A Christian is someone who always does their best." - (I have no idea)

I've tried and tried, but I can't seem to remember where it was I heard that. But, hearing it left an impression on me years ago. Granted, there's a lot more to being a Christian than merely trying your best. But the idea has a beautiful sort of simplicity to it, doesn't it?

The term "Christian" is first coined in the Acts [11:26] which is all about the early church and their new Way of living. And, the early church had it ROUGH. They were being hunted and persecuted and executed and spat upon. To follow Christ in the days of the early church, you had to constantly do your best. Do your best to live righteously, act mercifully, think strategically, speak boldly, proceed cautiously, die valiantly. In the time immediately after Christ's resurrection and ascension, it was unpopular to be a Christian (to say the least). Unfortunately for the church and everyone who watches us, that fact has changed.

No longer is there such an intense dichotomy between the church and everyone else. Don't get me wrong, I do NOT want anyone to be killed for entertainment purposes because of a desire to serve Jesus Christ. However, if that sort of overwhelming pressure existed today, you can bet people would take their faith much more seriously. Instead, Jesus' name has been turned into a kind of brand name or platform. Time and time again, I've seen self-proclaiming Christians speak out in anger against political figures or causes or programs. I've watched award shows in which the musician, whose "parental advisory" toting album has just gone platinum, first thanks God for the success. I've lost track of how many foul-mouthed sports stars have paid homage to God during their victory dances.

It makes me wonder what sort of God we've been portraying. That the American public would find it fitting to credit this portrayal of God with such worldly concerns... it concerns me.

It is our job as the church to show each other and everyone else who our Lord is. And, I can't help but think that we've been miserably failing at it. And, if we're failing, it can only be for lack of trying. Isaiah [55:11] says that God's word does not return void but instead accomplishes the purpose God intends it for. So, if we speak the word of God into the lives of those around us, we can't help but further extend the reach of the kingdom of heaven. If we speak the word of God into the lives of those around us, we can't fail. If we try our best, we can't fail.

As a whole, we've been failing.

For me, the problem comes from a selfish desire to preserve the level of comfort of my social standing, even among my Christian brothers and sisters. While it may be acceptable in nearly all circles to claim a relational attachment to Christ, speaking the truthful candor of His words is regarded almost universally as uncouth. God's Word cuts to the quick of the spirit. Very few react positively to even the most gracious reproach. What's more, I've never considered myself particularly gracious... That tends to take the courage right out of me. I want to cling to my comfort zone. But then I reread Paul's writings.

In Colossians [3:16-17], Paul urges Christians to

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (NIV)

Those are some lofty instructions from where I'm sitting. But, they really shouldn't be. Maybe it's because I grew up in a charismatic church, but I have trouble admonishing even my closest Christian peers. Then again, Paul never says, "teach and admonish... unless you're too intimidated". He urges us to have gusto. And, it makes sense. If I do my best, my actions will be bold simply because I am capable of boldness.

So, it's our job as Christians to call each other to live with higher standards. But, there's more. We are to do and say everything in the name of Jesus, living in a constant state of thanksgiving. In a nutshell, that's worship. Paul is telling us to do everything as an act of worship... Everything. That's big. If you're going to do everything as an act of worship, you'll have to always do your best. Think about it: if you're not doing your best, could you really call your action worship? Worship is a means of expressing those abstract attributes that describe a relationship with God: love, adoration, respect, reverence, joy, humility, meekness, boldness, passion, service. And, since we serve the Most High, the Almighty God, how could we offer anything less than our best?

This school year, I'll be striving to reclaim the name of Jesus for the glory of God, not the touting of success or bashing of corporate policies. I think everyone should be striving to do the same. We need to inject the passion of our best into the idea of Christianity. We've been apathetic for too long. I've been apathetic for too long...

I'm calling out myself and all of my Christian brothers and sisters. It's time we really started living out our best, always being thankful in the realization that we are limited in our time on this earth. It's time we started living eternally, differentiating ourselves from everyone else lacking in the strength and motivation and joy that comes from a full life with Christ. After all, we are the salt of the earth [Matthew 5:13].

I don't know who this is for, but I have this message pulsing around inside right now. It might not even be for right now. But, sometime, someone will read this and know that Christ cares. He cared enough to urge me to write. Sometimes the Spirit comes on me and gives me a message for another. I'm new at prophesy. These are not my words but, they are truth. So I write, His words through me.

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Have you forgotten that I am with you? I am with you. I am around you. I love you. This loneliness is not for you. No more. I love you. I came so you wouldn't have to keep feeling this way. You are so precious to Me. You are mine. You belong to Me. Don't you know I made you? I saw every part of you go into place. You are as you are because I made you that way. I don't make mistakes. You are no mistake. You are my love. You are on my mind constantly. Why do you feel forgotten? I love you.

Remember where you came from. Remember what I brought you through. I put you in this place. Trust me. Trust me, and see what I will do. You can't even imagine how wonderful it will be. Wait on me. Wait and see what I will do.

I am here. I am here when you feel alone and rejected and angry. I am here when you can't see the good. I am here loving you and waiting for you to rest in Me. I am here when the darkness seems unbearable and your hope is gone. I am here when there is nothing else. Let Me hold you.

I want what you are holding back. I want all of you. Everything. I can handle it. I want to handle it for you. Trust in me. I love you. Let Me show you how it can be. It won't be easy. But, it will be right. You know it will. You know, and yet you wait. Come to Me and let go. I will catch you and hold you. I love you. Do you not know?! Still, you wait. Come to Me. I love you so much. I loved you before you had breath. I loved you before you knew of Me. I loved you before everything was.

You wonder if I hear you. You wonder if I think of you? I think of you. I watch you and love you. You can't even imagine. You are special to me. You are like no one else. My love for you is unimaginable.

You feel you are weak. I will make you strong. I will be your strength. Reach for Me and I will touch you. Reach for me. I love you.

Don't forget this.

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If this hits you hard. Don't pass this over. It's for you.

While I was typing, I felt like I've never felt before. I can't even explain it save to say that it was awesome. Jesus is really crazy about you. And, I figure you weren't really expecting to get this here. But, that's just His way.

Rethinking Worship

This summer, I've been attending a Baptist church (FBCSA). It has been an interesting experience. I've got to admit that I don't necessarily agree with the things they don't do. So far, I've had no problem with the things they are doing or saying. But, some things are a bit strange to me. For instance, they don't clap their hands after a worship song. I grew up in a pretty charismatic, bordering-on-pentecostal church where we clapped after every song. "Clap your hands all you nations; shout to God with cries of joy" [Psalm 47:1]. That was the way I learned to worship - expressively, freely, loudly. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom [2 Corinthians 3:17]. So, I learned to worship in a freedom that only comes when you can sense the Holy Spirit living in yourself and those around you. This Baptist church doesn't worship like that. Initially, I saw that as a bad thing.

I've got to admit that I sometimes suffer from "Doctrinal Brick Wall Syndrome". Sometimes, without even realizing that I'm doing it, I think of others as being "less Christian" than I am. That's just the wrong way of thinking. I know that. The disciples asked Jesus who would be greatest, then he drops a philosophical bomb by claiming that the first shall be last and the last, first [Matt 19:30]. It turns out that loving God is more of a relationship thing than a status thing... Go figure, right? Anyway, sometimes I think that my beliefs MUST be correct and everyone else is just less Christian than I am. I remembered how foolish that thinking was during choir practice last Wednesday (I'm in the church choir).

The choir director was explaining how important it is to be singing the song, not just the words. Rather, the words of the song are nice and all, but worship is all about intention. We really mean those beautiful words we sing about "How Sweet The Name of Jesus Is" or whatever. But, if we aren't being musical about our singing, really perceiving the whole picture and striving to give shape to those reverential values we feel, then we aren't worshipping.

Now, I didn't expect to have a eureka moment, but I guess no one ever expects to have them. Still, I had a eureka moment. I realized how small my "worship box" was. It's ridiculous to think that there is somehow a correct way to worship God. That's preposterous. Worship is expressing in some way the abstract concepts of love, adoration, respect, etc. There are most definitely many incorrect ways to worship, ways that are simply wrong. However, there's no one correct way that trumps the others. Worship is about expression.

The Baptists at the church were worshipping differently than what I was used to. But, I realized that I needed to change, not the worship. I've become comfortable with expressing how passionate God makes me feel by singing my lungs out and raising my hands and clapping and crying for joy. Until now though, I had never really expressed the reverent, quieting sense of awe that is so frequently expressed in this Baptist church. My worship has grown.

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I've always wondered why it is that parents are so proud of the atrocious, unimpressive performances their children are always doing in school or church or little league or whatever. I mean, kids are usually pretty awful at performing things. I don't subject myself to watching preschoolers sing "This Little Light of Mine" or something similar unless I know one of the preschoolers who is singing. However, I do enjoy hearing The Vocal Majority or some other organized, professional group sing "This Little Light of Mine" or anything really. What's the difference? If it's fair to assume (and I think it is) that the men in "The Vocal Majority" were once preschoolers singing "This Little Light of Mine", then the most obvious difference is time. Preschoolers become grade schoolers, high schoolers, collegiate ers[?], professionals. Musical comprehension and understanding grows with time. And, since my life span will likely be around 80 years, those 30-60 year olds seem pretty awesome. What does God think?

God has always existed. So, if you imagine the largest number of years possible, then multiply it by 10 million, God is still older than that. Think about this: God created our ability to conceive sequences of sounds as being musical. God invented music. All of it. Music? Yeah, it was His idea. He knows what perfect music is like, if there is such a thing. So, if the thing that makes performances greater is an increased understanding that only comes with time, then our very best music must sound like banging rocks together or something. Come to think of it, maybe that's why Jesus said that if we fail to praise God, the rocks will cry out [Luke 19:40]. Maybe it would all sound the same anyway.

"All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment." [Isaiah 64:6] Filthy garment is originally "ukabeged ehdim" which translates more literally into "rags of menstruation" or, more modernly, "soggy tampons". I think soggy tampons are among the grossest things ever, and I can't help but think Isaiah giggled when he wrote that. Anyway, this seems to agree with my theory of worship improving in time. Since God has been around infinitely longer than we have, we could never impress him with our worship. It would all just sound like soggy tampons splattering or something... (Great mental picture isn't it?)

Love makes it good, though. It's true; parents love their kids, so they delight in their less-than-impressive performances. I think the same goes for God and our worship. Psalm 69:30-31 says that God takes joy in being praised by His people. And, we are only His people because He first loved, and continues to love us.

So, since we are all His children, I figure God watches the professional-looking, organized adult choir and sees a bunch of preschoolers that he loves. And that is why there's no "correct" way to worship.

Faith Comes By Hearing

Romans 10:17 "Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ."

Faith is sort of hard for me to describe as I don't really have a grasp on it. Even the explanations given by those I know who live most righteously fall short of a level of complete understandability. Still, I want more of it. To me, faith seems to be a sort of key to unlocking God's power within and through us. Or, maybe it's more like a tool that equips us for tasks that previously were impossible. I think it has something to do with the spiritual nature of mankind and our own God-given abilities to influence and control (See some of my earlier writing for a more complete description of what I mean).

The best description I've heard is this: the act of believing, having faith, is simply to sit back and rest on God. It's sort of like trust I think. And, I'm not talking about trust in the same way that you trust your neighbor, who is washing his car, to not spray you with the hose. I'm talking about the sort of trust you put in a parachute when base jumping. You might be able to make the slow climb to the bottom. Maybe not. But, at the top, it seems like a viable option. Still, there's more meaning in the jump. You fall. You pull the cord. Then, you have nothing to do but sit back and rest on your parachute.

I wish I had a way to explain faith that didn't rely on analogy or metaphor, but I don't yet.

I use such an extreme case as a parachute because, based on my experiences, it seems that faith is only called into question when a person wants or needs something that is outside of his or her immediate control. And, desires and needs don't just go away. There's a sort of immediacy to the human will that desperately demands an exhaustion of resources. People will do everything possible to ensure that the desired thing is acquired or action accomplished. In my own case, I have to admit that faith is one of the less frequently utilized resources. I'd like that to change; not just for me, but for everyone with a case similar to mine.

Romans 10: 17 says that faith comes by hearing the word of Christ. It struck me recently how largely unspoken my faith is. That needs to change. How can faith spread if I don't spread it? If I don't attribute those actions of mine that can be perceived as righteous to the glory of Jesus Christ, what is the difference between my actions and those of anyone else? If faith, if believing is the thing that sets me apart from those who aren't in love with Christ, then my hesitation to speak has made me a closet Christian. Well, everybody, tonight I'm coming out Christian. And, since the love of Christ isn't something that can be owned or otherwise privatized while retaining its meaning, I've got something to share. Be warned: the following may sound a little bit crazy to those whose experiences have differed from my own.

I love Jesus. I am totally dumbfounded, in awe at the mere thought of how great He is. I don't mean was. I mean is. Because, He's alive. About 2,000 years ago, He lived a perfect life. And, when I say perfect, I mean that not one of his friends could ever deny His perfection. Not even His mom could find fault with Him. That's amazing to me. I know for a fact that every one of my closest friends and most of my acquaintances would have little, if any, trouble pointing out how flawed my life has been. Jesus was perfect. As crazy as it sounds, I believe it fully. I believe it because I've experienced life in the presence of a loving God. The Holy Spirit has changed me into a man I couldn't have become if left to my own efforts. Every good thing inside of me, every kind word and tasteful joke, every merciful response and loving correction is because of Jesus. I'm totally and completely enthralled by His love for me. It rules my thoughts. He gives meaning to this vapor of a life I lead. I know that there's no way to repay Him for His sacrifice for me. All my shouting and clapping and jumping and singing and writing and thinking and speaking can never express how truly awesome He is. I could never adequately express just how He's changed my life into something worth living. Yet, there's a sort of victory in the futility of the expression. My God is infinitely great! He created life and defeated death. At His slightest mental twitch, He could decimate the entire universe with His awesome power. All of this, and still He loves me. And, I don't know why except that it is His way to love...

It occurs to me that disciples of Christ don't talk about Him enough. It's like a hidden agreement exists among us sometimes. "We all love Jesus, right? Okay, 'nuff said." But, that's the opposite of what it should be. Couples in love can't help but talk about their ever-so-significant other. So, why is the story different among Christians? It shouldn't be. We should be championing Jesus' name every chance we get. People need to know just how wonderful He is. This is me starting to do just that. I hope those who haven't will begin to do the same.

I didn't plan on writing all of this, but I guess there are some who do or soon will need to read [hear] it. And, when the Holy Spirit moves on me, I just start writing what is present on my thoughts and truth comes out. Praise God.

If you're feeling something unsettling inside of you, this was for you especially. Time to make changes. You're ready for them.

Sometimes, I get all caught up in doing things. My mind races through what needs to happen and who's depending on me and what tomorrow holds. It makes me feel like I need to be strong. It makes me want to be hard and steady. But, it feels empty. The problem comes with the afters. After I write the last sentence, after I lock the door, after I drive back, after I sign off... There's a chilling sense of singularity inherent in finding satisfaction in accomplishment. It's totally unsettling. And, I must admit that I've struggled with it.

Sometimes, I want my heart to be the strongest, hardest, most dependable, unshakable. I want to be able to stand on my own merits and defend myself against any foe. I want to never be broken or beaten. But, there's a problem with this sort of advancement. Strengthening of this sort only comes from having almost been beaten; from having come dangerously close to being broken. Then, weaknesses are recognized and patched before something or someone can seize them. It works quite well until defeat eventually comes. Then, all of the shoddy patchwork is revealed. Then, the armor is shown to be mostly empty and drafty. And, the heart that was independent and unshakable lies helplessly and further injures itself with every clattering pulsation of its crusty encasing.

- - - - - - - - - - -

My heart was like this for a time. The scary thing is that it was a time when adversity seemed preoccupied and my life, charmed. Where was the surrender? I don't know. I thought I was compassionate though my judgements were swift and sure. I thought I was justified in stating loveless truths. God was always on my side. The world was wrong and I was not of the world. Surely it was my place to be righteously indignant...

Then, something inside me was broken by forces beyond my control. My fears rushed in. It felt like I had lost the worth that I had previously earned. My spirit shivered. It seemed like the air about me gave off a palpable discomfort.

So, I gave up.

For the first time, I truly realized that my best was just not good enough. Lucky for me, my not being good enough had already been taken care of. In my distress, I told God that He could do whatever He wanted with me. I was obviously screwing it all up. "I surrender". Then He started doing something. Honestly, it sucked for a while and was really uncomfortable. But, I guess change can only happen when you're made uncomfortable.

I started really seeing people. I mean, beforehand, I saw others. Now, I started seeing equals. They were popping up everywhere. I saw people who were worth knowing, not for a redeeming quality, but for the simple sake of knowing. At the time, it seemed like it was they who were becoming a we with me. Now, I see that it was I who became a we with them. I thought my heart would maybe grow stronger with the union. To my surprise, it was further broken. As my realization of my needs increased and my love began bleeding out, Christ held me together.

He showed me how life is meant to be embraced by making my heart flexible. I started loving Him unreasonably as He brought my pieces back together. I don't know if I can ever adequately explain the change. I do know that the questions seemed to turn into simple declarations.

Why do You love me? How is it possible that You could be so good? ...

You love me. You are good.

Previously, I thought my heart could fit the molds made by others. But, it was too hard. Only questions were left to fill the holes and ease the pressures. My ability to love was impeded by my inability to recognize the shape of my own heart. I thought it was fitting. I had been dulled to the draftiness of the fit. I had been forcing my heart to fit through sheer strength of will. And, with the best of intentions, I had miserably failed.

The change made my heart flexible. It would be foolish for me to claim that I now know its shape simply because it is constantly changing. However, I'm getting a better feel for compassion. Every now and again, my heart is squeezed like a sponge to fit another's mold. Every time it's squeezed, it leaks tears. Consequently, I cry way more than I did previously. But, I've taken solace in the documented tears of many of the Bible's masculine spiritual giants.

Life seems somehow lighter after the change... It makes me sad that more men don't see the joy of flexibility. I can say with certainty that my heart is not strong in any traditional sense of the word. Indeed, I can almost guarantee that it will be broken again soon. But, I have security in the knowledge that Jesus will be there every time to fix it up again. He has given me the flexure to bounce back from the brokenness. Now that my heart can fit more molds, I can relate to more people. Really, I think it's the fuller life Christ liked to speak of. For, love demands vulnerability. And, "we know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren. He who does not love abides in death" [1 John 3:14]. Before, I was saved, but I wasn't living eternally. Now, I recognize the ever-present need to do so due to time constraints.

It's quite strange really... I must live eternally now because I have a limited window of time in which to do so. There's a beauty in that though, the knowledge that the brokenness will eventually cease. That's worth living towards.