Too Much Jesus?

It happened again this week.

I was driving home from work and listening to a Christian radio talk show. The host was affable, warm, and smart. The guest, intelligent, sincere, and engaging. Together, they explained and explored their spiritual topic with excellence and passion. Yet, after just a few minutes, I  experienced a suffocating sense of overload. I turned off the radio and continued my drive home. In silence. Pondering an alien thought:

Can a person hear too much about Jesus?

The first time I experienced such a visceral reaction to hearing more Good News, it unnerved me. Not any more. I welcome it as a danger sign, a spiritual fever warning me that I've shifted away, yet again, from listening with ears tuned to the Holy Spirit, to professional Jesus' student who thinks she can figure out the God of the Universe.

Sometimes I think we spend so much talking about Jesus that we turn Him into a science project. Something to dissect so we can understand Him better, which isn't a bad thing. But behind the understanding I'm talking about is a desire to control Him. Like reading the instructions for the remote control or a new phone. I want to know how they work so they'll serve me, doing what I want them to do.

The same with Jesus. I take in more and more info about Him, which is easy to come by. It's an embarrassment of riches, really. Christian radio. Books. Blogs. Twitter. Facebook. The Internet. Small Groups. Church. Bible Studies. Seminars. For me, preparing for Mid-Morning. But I need to be careful not to take what I'm learning and use it to treat Jesus like an insect pinned to a Styrofoam board, prepped for examination.

When I turned off the radio this week, I breathed the simple prayer I whisper whenever I'm overcome in this manner: Jesus, let me know You. He wants that for me more than I want it for myself. And He's the only One Who can do that for me.

Years ago I came across a computer image of a first-century Jewish male. Forensic archaeologists took a photo of a skeleton found in a tomb dating back to first-century Palestine, and "added" skin, hair, and eyes to create a composite of what a man living in Israel during the time of Jesus would look like.

Shocking, isn't it? This isn't what most of us imagine Jesus looks like. His physicality isn't important. But His Personhood with a capital "P," is, which is why I don't need information about Jesus. But I do desperately need the enlightenment that only comes when my Friend says, "Let Me tell you about Myself...."

Chonda!!

Lima, Ohio, you are a DELIGHT. An absolute delight.

Yesterday, our Cindy Scheumann and I {Bekah} came over to visit you and to see Chonda Pierce bring her comedy act to your fine city.

Before the concert, we had a chance to stop by Kelly's Boutique. {They provided the August prizes for our Summer Shout Out contest.} Oh what fun to stroll through the shop and see all the many beautiful things! And I may or may not have purchased my first ever infinity scarf.

And then we sampled the food, smoothies and coffee at The Meeting Place on Market. Over 100 kinds of coffee drink combos to choose from? Be still my beating heart.

Then we made our way to Chonda's night of girl talk...and to meet YOU. You are always so welcoming and you did not disappoint. LOVED the chance to hug you, shake your hands, talk with you, and bring your greetings back to Lynne.

For those of you who didn't get a chance to catch her visit to town, here are some photos...

Nobody can talk Spanx like Chonda!!

When You Are Wounded By God's People

Tuesday included a pinch me occasion. You know, one of those moments you never thought you'd experience, and yet....

Anne Graham Lotz spent the HOUR with us on Mid-Morning!

Anne Graham Lotz



Yes, the woman with the piercing blue eyes; perfectly coiffed, shoulder-length page boy; disarming southern drawl; who walks so closely with Jesus that all who engage with her feel a lifting in their souls, invited us to pull up a chair and learn from God's Word what to do when a sacred sibling -- a brother or sister in Christ -- wounds us.

Thank you, Anne!

This was no theoretical discussion. Anne has been deeply wounded, decimated by the deliberately cruel attacks of other Christians. But the goal of her book Wounded by God's People isn't to air dirty laundry, point fingers, or get revenge. It's to gently lead any Christian with bruises on their hearts -- bruises caused by the hurtful blows of other members of God's family -- to Jesus, the only One with the power to heal.

Is that you? Have you been betrayed, slandered, dismissed, bullied, lied to, or in any other way deeply hurt by another Christian you trusted? Follow Anne's lead, modeled by our Lord Who was wounded and murdered by God's people, the very ones He came to save.

Listen to what our wise sister shared with us:

"When we are wounded we need to be very careful about what happens next. Because in the aftermath we are vulnerable to the enemy of our souls who would seek to use us to wound others. Watch out!"

"Prayer can help heal your hurt. It can take the sting away. One reason that it can help put your wounding in perspective. When I focus on God and who He is, my wounders don't seem so intimidating and my hurt somehow becomes smaller. So may I encourage you? Put the brakes on any runaway mental conversations you may be having with those who have wounded you. If you don't, and those sharp words careen recklessly across the highway of your healing journey, your wounded heart and life are going to end up as something like splattered roadkill."

"You may have been rejected by them (other Christians), but you are not rejected by Him (God)!"

"The way to healing, the way to freedom from the wretchedness of the pain, is not revenge. It is not giving them  - the ones who wounded you - the silent treatment, or cutting them off, or cutting them out. It is not rejecting God and losing your faith. God tells us exactly how to be healed. The remedy is simple but radical: 'Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.'"

Some of Anne's words -- some taken directly from the Bible, others based on biblical principles -- may be hard to take in, especially if your wounds are fresh. But I implore you to read them anyway, asking God's Spirit to unlock your heart to receive them. They will act as antiseptic, cleaning your wounds; antibiotics, preventing an infection of bitterness, hopelessness and revenge; and then finally, bandages, protecting your heart while it heals.

Of everything Anne said, these are the words that made my spirit swell:

"As painful and devastating as wounds inflicted by God's people can be, they have made me more determined to live out what I believe authentically. I am deeply motivated to know  God. I want to know Him as He truly is, not through the distorted reflection of those who call themselves by His name. And I want to make Him known to others as accurately, winsomely, clearly, and compellingly as I can...So I refuse to let religious phonies destroy my heart for the One Who loves me and draws close to me when I am wounded. I refuse to be robbed of life's greatest treasure - a personal, permanent, passionate relationship with God through faith in Jesus."

Amen, Anne!

Let's put our hands, our hopes, our lives into the sure hand of our Savior. He cares for us always -- especially when we are wounded. We can trust that, one day, He will make all things right.



 

 

 

 

 

Greatest Possible Pain

Ahhhhh Facebook. I was without it for an entire week, while Ryan and I were away on vacation. I hadn't ever been disconnected like that before, and I'm not gonna lie to you - I wasn't sure how I'd handle it. As it turned out, I did okay with it, and when we returned and I eagerly dove into my Facebook app on my phone, I found bad news at the top of the list.

And I wanted to go right back on vacation. Right back to the land of flip flops and endless coffee cups and no bad news.

Instead, I had to go home...which included:

* flying in some fairly spectacular storms

* coming home to no hot water {discovered a leak in the water heater before we left, so we drained it}

* finally fixing the hot water heater - only to find pipes leaking under the house

My heart was already hurting for other reasons, and by the time Ryan emerged from under the house the second time, with "the look" on his face, telling me something else was wrong...I dissolved into tears.

I said to him, "Does God hate us?"

Of course He doesn't, and I knew that, but I also knew that in that moment, I'd received one upper cut to the jaw too many and I felt completely assaulted.

People tried to comfort me - and rightly so.

Be thankful you have a husband who not only can fix these things, but is willing to...

Be thankful you found these things on days when you had the time off work to spend tending to them...

And I was. I was thankful for those things.

But I also just hurt. I hurt because in that moment, life wasn't fair and I wanted to be mad about it for ten minutes, with no logic-filled lectures, before composing myself and facing reality again.

I remembered a little sentence I heard once, many years ago, spoken by a hospital chaplain, who sees more pain in a day than I do in a year...The pain in front of you is the greatest possible pain because it's yours.

We so love to outdo each other, don't we? "You need to stop being hurt about this because if you were in MY shoes, you'd feel WORSE."

But the pain right in front of us is the greatest possible pain because it's the one we're feeling in that moment.

And while I'm not advocating wallowing in self-pity, I am saying to you it's okay to feel your own pain and grieve it for a moment while you turn your face to the Lord and ask Him for His strength to carry you into the next moment.

We know so many of you out there are hurting - from so many different things. But we acknowledge today that your pain is deep and wounding because it is YOURS. And sweet friend, Jesus feels your pain and loves you through it.

He doesn't hate you.

He cries with you.

And He will sustain you in this moment.