Last night I ran into a friend in a completely unexpected setting. It was the best surprise I have experienced in quite some time. Through the haze of his afternoon spent tailgating, he described to me his life as a twenty-something young professional in New York City. Although by all accounts he is living an enviable life, he spoke with longing for the familiarity and ease of Nashville. In moments like those I am reminded of how grateful I am to live in such a neat town. Even this afternoon as I was sitting on the front porch of an ice cream shop in East Nashville, relishing the the taste of a free ice cream cone made possible by my latest iPhone app, ScoutMob, I thought to myself, "this doesn't happen everywhere." That fact was confirmed by my the exclusive list of cities to which this app is limited: Austin, Portland, NYC, Seattle, L.A. And tiny little Nashville. That's cute.
Anyway, I digress. What has haunted my mind today is not pride in the trendy city in which I live, but rather the immense freedom and ironic burden that I feel by knowing the truth that Jesus loves me. As I listened to my friend describe the dating game in the City and heard his longing for a relationship made improbable by geographic and emotional distance, my heart longed for him to believe that Jesus loves him. I don't mean that as a naive platitude. I mean that as an earth-shattering, life-altering, let yourself try and fathom the implications of that, truth. On the days when I believe that God's love for me is the latter rather than the former, my heart aches for those who don't know the same. Every now and then I see a glimpse of hope in this friend that leads me to believe he understands a piece of this divine story. But I long for the day when he understands more fully. Oh what I would give to be part of that conversation.
May I, and we, believe daily in the love that the Lord has lavished on us, that we would be called children of God.
This morning at Midtown we heard about the new life in faith that God is calling us to live in. Randy dared us to believe that the very place we are in right now represents the spectacular will of God. In prior weeks he challenged us to thank God for the very circumstance we would give anything to change. I always feel empowered when I remember to take my mind off of my immediate circumstances and pause to consider the magnitude of what is possible through Christ. When I remember that my faith does not solely serve the purpose of punching my ticket to Heaven, but rather to participate in the very great and precious promises of the divine, I feel energized rather than fatigued. I feel brave and strong rather than anxious and frail. I feel sure of my purpose rather than wishing my weekdays would turn into weekends.
In light of my conversation with my friend last night, this morning I had the thought, what if my purpose is to tell people that Jesus loves them? Underneath the guise of an auditor, even? What if the entire reason that I went through the MAcc program and spent the last year working for Deloitte is to win the right to be heard? What if the Lord's love for His people is so extravagant that He would orchestrate such an unlikely series of events for a simple conversation between two people who would otherwise never meet? You know what, I'm really ok with that. In fact, that story that I might have just fabricated in my mind makes more sense to me than anything else. Whether I hit the nail on the head or am 3948 miles out in left field, I want to believe that I am participating in the divine. After all, how else can I respond to the fact that His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.
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