“I heard a song playing, brought by the wind
I got myself lost then I found You again.”
The listlessness of last week is hanging over me like a heavy shroud; I had just come down from the (literal, not medical!) high of the Colorado mountains, and tried to fix and paint some fences at Freedom Reins Ranch – but got rained out. The ultimate lack of meaningful activity led me to sort of get lost in thoughts; some good, others not. It’s so human to let negative thoughts, thoughts from the enemy, implant themselves at the forefront of our minds and spirits. These thoughts can cloud reality and distract us from the myriad blessings, whispers of truth, and ever-present glory of God’s creation around us.
This is where the book I’m reading, Beautiful Outlaw, has really shined a much-needed light into my soul. Jesus, the Savior of mankind and the physical manifestation of God among us, was human. Fully God. But also fully human.
Just like me. Just like you.
You may be wondering how it took thirty(ish!) years for me to come to this seemingly simple realization – but for a great deal of my life Jesus was fully God. And that’s it. An abstract third of a Trinity I didn’t understand. A benign painting on the wall at church. A man I thought I knew, but with whom I’d never had a personal relationship – because you’re not supposed to have a relationship with a deity.
John Eldredge has such a modest but direct way of speaking directly to the core of an issue: in this case, “religion’s” taming of the wildly generous, wildly loving, but altogether wild humanity of Jesus. This man – the Son of Man – incited riots in temples, openly challenged authorities (often with incredibly sharp wit if you read carefully), and loved with absolute reckless abandon. He hung out with fishermen (this has always been a favorite piece of the story for me) and shared meals with criminals and tax collectors. He never passed up an opportunity to speak truth. He entered a world at war and moved with calculated, passionate intensity. He yearned for the comfort of his friends in moments of loneliness at Gethsemane, when the gravity of what he was about to endure weighed heavily on him. Just like nothing about us humans is one-dimensional, nothing about Jesus was one-dimensional.
Like us, Jesus experienced the full breadth of human emotions – anger, joy, sadness, passion, love, loneliness. The difference is, Jesus felt them without all the baggage of sin. He felt them perfectly. Righteously. He stepped up where we fall short. He didn’t let the cup pass. He finished the fight.
So the least I can do is finish painting a fence this week. And try to learn from the man who wants to be more in my life than just a benign painting on the wall at church.