Jesus leaves the 99 in the desert to run after the one. Then he puts the one on his shoulders. I want to be on Jesus’ shoulders.
Is it odd that I’m 30 years old, and have been a Christian all this time, and still feel like I haven’t really met Jesus yet?
What’s that bit from George MacDonald: “The love of our neighbor is the only door out of the dungeon of self, where we mope and mow, striking sparks, and rubbing phosphorescences out of the walls, and blowing our own breath in our own nostrils, instead of issuing to the fair sunlight of God, the sweet winds of the universe.”
Am I still chained in that dungeon? I want to be out in that sweet wind. When will I meet him?
But the apostles didn’t meet him until they were about my age, some of them. All that time before they met him, their lives must have been preparing them to meet him. They weren’t ready, before that. I thought I was living, but maybe all this has just been preparation, before I really meet Jesus.
Which of the apostles am I? I hope I’m Peter. It’s too late to be John. Am I Judas? Judas was probably the smartest. I’m smart. Does that make it more likely that I’m Judas?
Smartness is a kind of richness, and it’s hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of God. I’m rich in smarts, but I’m poor in love. No, I used to be poor in love; now I’m rich in love, have love from all sides. Am I the right kind of poor?
But we’re all the right kind of poor. “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” But none of us are righteous people. Therefore the Lord will rejoice over me.
I want to be on Jesus’ shoulders.