When I first conceived the idea of recording 52 love lessons I gleaned from reading through the New Testament, I believed it would be an easy journey. A simple exercise. Grab my ipad (I use an online Bible), pour a cup of java, sit on my balcony in the early morning and God’s message would gently infuse itself into my thoughts. I even imagined those messages would be tender and Junoesque. A tasting of His word that would be easy to digest. But here’s the thing about God. He’s powerful. Even His whispers are potent. Important. Life-changing. It’s like the wisdom that flows from the mouths of our parents. They tell us how special we are. They praise us. But because they love us so deeply, they also admonish us, and they try to teach us right from wrong. Makes sense, doesn’t it? After all, God is our father.
When embarking on this exercise, I also didn’t foresee the courage I would need. Courage? To read a few poetic devotionals each morning from the comfort of my private little patio? You bet. Whether these 52 entries will land on the ears of the hungry or whether they will simply float around in cyberspace seeking a notice or two doesn’t matter. I’m putting my thoughts out there. I’m putting myself out there. I’m letting the world know I’m a Christian, no matter how flawed or imperfect, that I’m a fan of Jesus. And that, my friend, takes courage.
Not only do I realize this now, but I also hear God telling me that I need to do more of it. The other night, a friend stopped by after a Reds game. He and my husband were discussing which social platforms on the internet would be most fitting for promoting their current businesses. They reached for my ipad on the counter and began analyzing the innerworkings of my Pinterest and Instagram accounts. Once the conversation ended, my friend looked at me quizzically and asked, “You have the Bible on you ipad?” As quickly as he asked, he then jumped into a discussion of a new topic, but his question left me startled. “Of course,” I answered. Two words, when I should have said ten, or twenty, or a hundred. I should have told him about Jesus, and how He is a big part of my life. He IS my life. I felt sad that a close friend of mine didn’t even know that about me. He knows the color of my couch, that I collect vintage French travel posters, even my favorite dessert. But he doesn’t know how much I love Jesus.
I’m afraid to put myself out there. To wave my Christian flag. I’m afraid because I’m not perfect, and I’m afraid of being seen as a hypocrite. But I hear God telling me to do it anyway. That He will give me the words. That He will give me the strength. That He will iron out the creases in my faith, if I just step a little farther out on the limb. And I’ve decided I will do this, because what I’m afraid of most of all is that two words aren’t enough.
I’ve been through this experience that even my best friend didn’t know about my faith. But I am glad that you obeyed the voice of God. I remember He promised to us that He never leaves us nor forsakes us. Thank you for sharing this with all of us.