“You’re never gunna let, never gunna let me down.” (Repeat 10,000x) My kids LOVE this song. Sing and scream that line on repeat. Truth be told I hated that line specifically. The one they loved, I hated. I couldn’t even sing it most of the time. I didn’t believe it. I believed God let us down. And my fear of man has held me back from sharing this, like ever. I grew up in the church, worked with a mission organized (just started again actually but that’s for another time), teach my kids about Jesus, etc yet… here I was…
On social media or even in church with our quick hello goodbyes… it’s easy to make life, and faith, look easy. Non-messy, beautiful, even perfect sometimes. I know for a fact I haven’t portrayed a part of my personal walk as it is off camera or in home. I think I’ve tried in little ways, here and there. But the truth is my faith…it’s been a struggle and a fight. A total heart-wrenching, ugly process that last few years.
But here’s the thing I’m learning…I stuck things onto Jesus that weren’t him: deep wounds from people proclaiming Christ, ideas that’s were taught to me about His character/nature (my husband has totally and completely opened my eyes to who God is, not just in how he lives but because Ted longed to know who He was/is beyond what we’ve been told/taught), beliefs I took on during losses and heartaches, etc.
I started to realize I wasn’t walking away from Christ, just maybe what we’ve made Christianity out to be.
This exact week 7 years ago, our daughter took her final breath and met Jesus. I was nearly 7 months pregnant, had the kind of faith that moved mountains. Believed with everything in my being that she would be okay. Yet she died. To top it off, it took me 3 awful days to birth her. We came home empty handed, broken and also broke financially. So to top it off again, we couldn’t afford to burry her body. She was cremated – which is literally the worst thing I could think of at the time. (Honestly, I still hate it. I want a place I can go and take her flowers.) There was no new life, there was no abundance of any sort, we barely had people (besides family) honestly. It was the loneliest time. The ground for many of my doubts, unbeliefs and wounds to breed.
Every single thing I had been taught or had learned, from the cliche Christian terms to the theologically unsound, shattering at my feet beneath me. And there I truly, truly met Jesus. Not the Jesus I’d been taught of in church, not the Jesus christians had showed me, not the Jesus who “gives and takes away” … He was Jesus who was entirely and completely grieved with us. He was broken hearted for us. HE was let down for us.
This is Jesus, friends. Meeting us here in our sorrow, our grief, our pain. Maybe he didn’t heal you or a loved one but you saw on Facebook recently that He gave so and so a parking space, or a cruise (insert biggest yet kindest eye roll you ever did see 😉)…
I heard this line in a song recently “I want to see you rightly, Jesus.” And I can’t shake it. I mean think about that. Where are we seeing Him wrongly, friends?
Help us to see you rightly, Jesus. You’re our Good and Faithful Friend and Father. The one who doesn’t cause our dark valleys and deep waters but walks beside us in the midst of whatever “it” may be. Your grace and mercy and unfailing Love carrying us through. Help us to see you rightly, Jesus. I’m weary of seeing you wrongly and choosing a path of unbelief, of death and destruction when you’ve given your life and called us to new life.
ant to see you rightly, Jesus. In places I believed wrongly, was taught wrongly, held onto wrongly… Jesus, I want to see you as you are. // (I've been up the last 5 nights at the exact same time – I wake ted to take his medication so it doesn't throw him off in the morning. Nurse Atlas and then.. my mind won't shut off. Tonight I've written more than I have in years. You're just getting a portion, your lucky 😬).