He Calls Me Friend

Last night, I was blessed to attend an amazing Good Friday production; it was absolutely stirring. I need a whole other blog opportunity to share how much this performance awoke in me. But I have to share my strange preoccupation with the way Jesus interacted with the disciples. I felt an odd longing I couldn't quite place my finger on at the time.

"On the outside looking in" was always more than a cliche to me. I have felt so many times throughout my life like I was doing this exact thing. I would view other friendships, other families absolutely sure that they had it "all together". They had somehow achieved this delicate balance of near perfection that always seemed to elude me. I was sure that other people didn't have the ugliness pervade their thought processes that mine sometimes did. Sure that other families didn't struggle. Sure that other people had perfect Godly friendships and marriages straight out of a Karen Kingsbury novel.

Thankfully God graciously, mercifully allowed other Christ-following individuals to let me into their own "messiness." Soon I saw that all couples, all families, all friendships have those "ick" moments too. I am forever grateful for the amazing individuals God placed in my life who allowed me to see that "ugly" can be beautiful too...that it is through the tough stuff where we grow the most.

And yet...I still hold on to perceptions and expectations that are placed on me...by me. This morning, I stood in my kitchen, finishing Easter preparations with my hair in complete disarray, spit up staining my old t-shirt, baby prunes making an ugly brown blotch on my shorts. The kids were finishing up their Easter eggs; by this time they had forsaken any utensils left to soak the eggs and were simply using their fingers to place eggs into the dye. I was too tired to muster up any energy to be upset by the fact that when they are arrayed in their Easter finery tomorrow, they will still most likely, have the remnants of a rainbow on their hands. I looked around and thought "the person I want to be, wouldn't be standing here in this chaos."

It then hit me with all the force of a July thunderstorm. I was expecting perfection of me because I was still wanting to be "good enough" for the amazing people God has placed in my life. (They have never demanded perfection of me; only I put those demands on myself.) And as stood there, fairly sure that I could smell a dirty diaper somewhere even beyond the stench of the spit up pervading my nostrils, I was hit by another thunder clap. I still, STILL, even after all the preaching I do to others, thought I needed to hit closer to perfection to be called Jesus's friend.

I KNEW He was my Savior. I KNEW He was my King. But the reason, at last night's production, I had a lump in my throat as the fictitious Jesus hugged His disciples after He had risen, was because I wanted Him to love me like THAT.

He already does.

In my smelly clothes. When I lose my patience. When I mess up.

He loves me like THAT.

He wants to embrace me as an old friend. He knows me. And He wants me to know Him.

And that is when it clicked. The door to freedom. I want to know Jesus. Not know what He can do for me. Not serve Him to rack up heavenly points. But to know Him. To face Him after this earthly life is over for me and be able to embrace Him and say "friend." Teacher, yes. Lord, most definitely. Most High, absolutely. But also, Friend. He's my friend.

And He thought I was worth dying for. I have heard it said many times "if you were the only person in the world, Jesus still would have died on the cross." That hit me hard today.

He really would have. Died. Just for me, to save me so we could fellowship in eternity.

That is love. He calls me friend.

And for the rest of this earthly life, I pray that I will never take my eyes off Him. Learning to be more like Him, being His hands and feet here. Learning to see Him in the world we live in. So that when I finally, stand...or most likely, kneel...before Him, I might hear the words "well done...Friend." Not because I was "good enough" or "did enough" but because He loved me and I spent my life loving Him and longing to know Him. Help me know You, Jesus.