I feel like I’m walking with Marilyn and the girls; I’m just
trying to keep up! Jesus almost sprints from village to village. Once in the
midst of the people, He heals the sick with a gentle touch, softens hearts with
an encouraging insightful word. The minds of others are enraged and tangled by His
truths.
Today Jesus began by telling us that the “Son of Man would die
and then three days later rise.” So what can that mean? I’m not asking. At
times it is best just to keep quiet. But, I do think that my loyalty and
longtime friendship should count for something in the end. Not sure why I
bothered to mention it. It just led to an argument among the fellas. Each of us thinks he is the “greatest!” We should have known better than to let Jesus
hear that discussion! “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of
all and the servant of all.” Just when it gets really confusing being with
Jesus, He does something that I can understand and then I sort of get what He is
all about.
A little later today, Jesus gathered a child into His arms. The
child was dirty and tired and seemed to be wandering all alone. There did not
seem to be a parent or grandparent or anyone around who even knew him. His hair
had not been washed in days and most likely he had not eaten recently. Jesus
gently coaxed him into His arms and lifted him onto His lap. He spoke quietly,
gently to him. Gradually the fear softened from his eyes and the strain lifted
from his tear-stained face. I was some
distance away, so could not hear what He was saying to him. But what I did hear
were the words spoken to me by my parents when I was about that age. My heart
heard the loving words of long ago. Words that told me I was loved and would be
protected and had nothing to fear. I heard the funny stories my uncle told. I
heard the laughter that filled our home. I heard the family stories my
grandmother and grandfather told and retold over the years. I felt the warmth
of my mother’s arms and the strength of my father’s. I knew I was loved and was
lovable. Echoing in the wind were other words – slurred, harsh and cruel.
Guttural sounds blanketing the whimpering and sobbing of an abused, fearful
child and the maternal pleadings of a distraught mother.
Jesus invites us into the truth of Who He is, but lures me into
the experience of Who He is. Intimacy and vulnerability; hope and fear; comfort
and struggle, healing. Jesus is present. Am I the loved child or the lost,
lonely, bedraggled and forgotten child? Am I the abused child or the cherished
child? Where do I experience that comfort and love? Who in my life speaks the
healing words of love and acceptance, of affirmation and encouragement? What about the child? Do I notice the lost,
lonely, hungry, laughing, or crying child? What about the soldier child, the
homeless, sick or abused child? To whom do I speak the loving words of joy,
love, comfort and encouragement?
You know what? It is not
about me, it’s about us. Jesus and me, and you and me. Sometimes I get it and
sometimes I don’t. Interesting how often
the image of the child appears in scripture. At any age I am God’s child.
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