I went off with my mom to see Heaven’s For Real, because she really wanted to see it. I’m not giving you a movie review, fear not. And I don’t have anything to say about the theological accuracy of said movie. But it sparked something.
The little kid in the movie was *so certain* of his experience of Heaven, so matter-of-fact about it, while everyone around him went nuts. I feel like a grown-up version of the kid all the time, only I’m frustrated. I know absolutely that Jesus lives. I talk to Him all the time. That’s the business of praying without ceasing, you know? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO. I get guidance. I feel communion. Not as much as I’d like or as intimate as I’d like, but… probably exactly as much as I’m really prepared for. I know it’s me shying away, not Him.
I know He is. I … know it. I know it like I know breath and bone and light and dark. I know it more than those things. And yet, I am frustrated – because this central truth is something I seem to be not-very-good at conveying. I try, occasionally, to become better at apologetics, and learn to argue folks into the Kingdom. I’m not any good at it. I’m not sure too many folks are prepared to be argued in anyhow. At least, those God puts in my path are not.
I feel like someone who has been entrusted with a beautiful jewel, and all I want to do is share it. But the others can’t see it……. can’t see Jesus’ beauty and His power and His love. This *grieves* me. I feel selfish. If I were only given the words… perhaps I could tell them….
And then I realized – for all I love my friends, Jesus loves them more. For the dim shadow of His Truth that I can see and ache to share, He knows more perfectly. Those broken and bruised places I can only guess at? He knows them intimately. How His heart must break. How He must weep with the desire to comfort them, to make them His own, to welcome them Home. And yet they persist in staying out in the cold. And I weep. And my tears are as nothing to His.
Unlike Him, I am tied to Time, and I get frustrated and impatient. Will my friend ever see the Truth? How can I get this through? What must I do?
Jesus might become angry or sad – but I don’t think He gets frustrated. He is perfectly patient. Some of that is that He knows the outcome, but more of it is His nature. As I desire to become more like Him, I must give over my frustration and accept His patience. I can grieve, I can rage, but frustration isn’t where I should be. Perfect hope, perfect patience – that’s my goal.
Persistence. Perseverance. Prayer. The weapons of the surrendered heart.