I Wish You Desperation

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to wake up and see Jesus standing there at the end of my bed.

He'd be smiling and the sun would be shining. The breeze coming in the window would be warm, the birds would be chittering. I would be a little bit groggy but wouldn't be achy. I would marvel at that for a moment. I wouldn't care about my bedhead really, but I might be worried whether or not the t-shirt I was wearing had holes in it. I think I would sit up, but I wouldn't get out of the bed. For some reason, I picture myself being cozy when Jesus is standing in the room.

I think I would expect Him to start a conversation. And, as much as I'd love for Him to tell me that I was going to do something amazing in the world with Him, and that throughout the whole process I wouldn't be stressed or freaked out, I think for real He would ask me this:

“Who do you think I am?”

Now, the reasonable answer would be, “Jesus, and You are standing at the end of my bed. And that is all kinds of awesome.”

I think His response to that might be, “Yes, but who do you think I AM?”

“Son of God, Lord of Hosts, King of Kings, Prince of Peace? Come on Jesus, this could go on all day....”

“Who do YOU think I AM?”

He'd fade away and I would be stumped, because as much as I have read about Him and studied about Him and talked about Him, and tried to serve Him, do I really know Him yet?

I have always understood that as the goal, but lately, instead of thinking about it as something I have to do - really knowing Jesus, what He thinks, how He feels - is starting to become something I really want to do. There is a strange desperation, it is going to be hard to breath if I don't find out.

What about you? Who do YOU think HE IS?

I wish you desperation...