She sat in the silence staring out the window, sipping on her coffee. The sunshine on her face was a welcome presence in the midst of her solitude. At the moment, she felt painfully alone. During the quarantine, a gaping emptiness had seemed to almost swallow her alive. And though her life had resumed, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling.
Life had come to a screeching halt in 2020 and at some points thereafter. While she didn’t want to ever have to live that over again, she felt there was one good thing that came out of it. It had brought to the surface a few buried questions:
1. Who is important to me? My family, and a few golden friendships.
2. What is important to me? Significance. I want my life to matter. I want to have somehow made the world a better place.
Those moments were there B.C. (before covid), but she could usually stuff it and keep going. There were things to do, places to go, people to see, and who had time for deep introspection? When she couldn’t stuff it, the alcohol filled in the gaps.
But the quest for significance ran so deep that, along with millions all over the world, she had quit her job to do something she actually believed in, and to spend more time with the people she loved. But after all the dust had settled and she had moved, started her new job, and quit drinking, she still didn’t know if she had found it.
He stood there in the garden waiting.
Though there were people around him, his solitude was unbroken. He felt painfully alone. He knew all of his life hinged on the choices he made in this one moment.
Who was important to him? His father. The one relationship that defined everything, provided him direction and clarity. His friends, who had become like family. And there were people he had never met, yet unborn, that mattered to him. Could he have seen them? Felt the cry of their souls?
All this ran through his mind as the bunch of rascals approached. They were fully armed, but it was clear that a whole army could never have been a match for his soul force. When they inquired whether he was the one they were searching for, his answer, “I am,” elicited a surprising response:
The entire group staggered backward and fell down.
True story. I guess that shouldn’t be so surprising when he had captivated thousands with his teachings. Schizophrenics, addicts, prostitutes, the sick, even the dead, had been restored to full health. He commanded the weather, walked on water, and turned water into wine.
With that kind of power, it must have taken incredible restraint not to jump down off the cross, heal himself, call down fire from heaven and stroll easily through a stunned crowd. I would have.
Something held him there, and it wasn’t the nails. It was to fulfill his purpose; it was for those who mattered most.
Talk about significance.
In 3 years, he had turned the world on end, and his life still influences millions for the better; it has for generations. He set a standard for living that is both utterly unattainable and so simple that even children can do it. “Follow me,” he said.
He’s saying it to the woman at the window.
I wonder if she is anything like you.
Instead of questioning whether you have done enough (if you could, you’d be the savior), his invitation takes the burden off of you and puts it on him. What a relief! When you come face to face with Jesus and join the movement that He started, you find yourself becoming fully alive. I know from experience.
Every day lived in surrender to Him is joyful, terrifying, exciting, impossible, empowering, revolutionary, and full of significance. It is pregnant with eternal value.
Significance is a person. You should meet him. He’s pretty cool. To find out more, read the gospels.