We pose for each other all the time,
offering our best, our most attractive side,
our best self,
hoping people will like us.
But we’re so many things.
We are quiet and loud and sexy and ugly
and smart and dumb and loving and spiteful.
All of which doesn’t play on camera,
but that’s the thing.
You can tell a contrived image a mile away,
but a shred of honesty
circles the globe.
Show yourself today.
Stay you =)
Read: Mark 8:27-30
So Jesus is walking down the road one day. He stops, turns to His disciples, and says, “who do you say I am? Some people say this, some people say that, and some people say something else; but, you, what do you think?” Peter gives a stellar response, worthy of any top Sunday school or Bible class. Then, Jesus, satisfied, turns and keeps walking.
Another day, Jesus TELLS the disciples who He is and what is going to happen to Him and Peter will have nothing to do with it. Jesus rebukes Peter and, again, keeps walking.
I love that, as we walk farther along with Jesus, He will continually check in, always asking who we think He is. Or better yet, He will ask why we are even here. The options are many. Sometimes our responses are stellar. Sometimes they are still brewing, works in process. Sometimes, they aren’t simpatico, don’t quite vibe, with Jesus’ will and person.
This is a personal journey. Jesus does not ask us to delegate our response to a friend or family member or religious leader. He asks us individually (also corporately, if applied to a singular body), who we think He is and why we are here? He listens. Then He discusses. He cares about the response. For Him, there is a right and wrong answer, but He wants to know where we stand first.
So, who is Jesus to you? Why are you at His side? Be honest. No points for brown nosing. He wants you as you are. He can work with us from there.
How far would we go,
how hard would we work,
how much would we give
to possess something real?
Wouldn’t it all be worth it,
to hold, to taste, to keep as a totem
in our pocket something that cannot be taken away?
In this world of sand and glass,
wouldn’t be nice to transcend beyond the illusions,
to kiss the face of God?
o how glorious it would be
to be like the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears,
wiped His feet with her hair,
to then be taken by the hand by Him,
to be lifted up,
to hear our Lord say to His disciples,
“remember this woman, because she really understands
what’s going on. Remember her, for now and for all time,
for she, like me, has died to herself to gain something more.”
The past is like a funhouse mirror
The grotesque and the beautiful alike
are but caricatures of reality,
the machinations of hindsight
run rampant in the mind.