Garden of Gethsemane: Part 2
Let Down by OthersJuly 5, 2026Introduction
In Part 1 of this series, we saw Jesus in Gethsemane wrestling with overwhelming sorrow — ōdinoō (ὠδινόω), a Greek verb describing grief so intense it feels like labor pains. Mark 14:34 says it pressed him “to the point of death.” He prayed, wept, and surrendered the weight to the Father. But the story does not end with Jesus alone in his anguish. The disciples are right there with him. They made the journey. They heard his prayer. And yet, by the time Jesus needed them most, they had failed him.
This is the second layer of grief in the garden: you can explain your storm to someone and still be utterly alone in it.
Jesus did not first directly face betrayal by Judas. He did not face abandonment first by the crowds. He faced it first by the three friends he had called his own — Peter, James, and John — the inner circle he had taken even deeper into the garden. They had been there many times before. Jesus had shared moments of glory and power with them that no one else had witnessed. He trusted them deeply.
But trusting someone does not mean they can share your burden.
And they let him down.
The Weight of Disappointment
Mark 14:32-34, 37-38 NIV 32They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” 33He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. 34"My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.”
37He returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. 38"Peter,” he said to Simon, “couldn’t you keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”
Notice what Jesus did. He didn’t preach. He didn’t reprimand. He shared his burden — “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” — and asked them to stay with him in prayer and watchfulness.
That is how much he needed them.
He had just told them what was about to happen. He had warned them plainly: the Son of Man was being delivered into the hands of sinners. The cross was not some distant tragedy. It was hours away. He told them the urgency of the hour. He told them the one who would betray Him was already on his way. And still, they could not stay awake for one hour.
Why? Not because they didn’t care. Not because they were weak-willed. But because they could not feel what Jesus was feeling. No matter how much Jesus explained to them, no matter how clearly he warned them, they could not cross the gap between his experience and knowledge and theirs. They sat beside him, living in a different world. One without the weight that was crushing him.
And that is the lonely truth we are getting at: even your most dedicated supporters, the people who love you, follow you, and say they understand, won’t always feel what you are feeling. They can’t step into your pain. They can’t carry the weight you’re carrying. And sometimes when you need someone to simply see the severity of what you are facing, they look at you with sleep in their eyes, as if nothing urgent is happening at all.
When he returned from his first round of prayer, they were asleep. When he returned a second time, still asleep. And then a third time, still asleep. They didn’t mean to fail him. They simply couldn’t show up at a level comparable to the situation.
We have all experienced this kind of disappointment. Perhaps it was a friend who promised to sit with you in a hospital room and then never showed up, or it was a spouse who said they would listen to your struggle but changed the subject when you spoke. Maybe it was a small group, a church family, a mentor — someone you trusted who was present in body but absent in spirit, not aware of the spiritual battle you were in the middle of.
The Greek word for “keep watch” that Jesus used, gregoreō, means to stay alert, on guard, spiritually awake, not just physically present. Jesus was asking them to be there for him. Not to perform a duty, but to share his burden.
And they didn’t.
The Pain of Being Let Down
There is a special kind of grief that comes from disappointment by those we trust most. It is different from the pain of rejection by a stranger. A stranger’s indifference we can explain away. But when someone you love, someone you’ve loved, served, and trusted, fails you in your moment of need, it cuts deeper.
Consider what this must have cost Jesus. He knew what was coming. He had explained it to them, the suffering, the betrayal, the death. He had warned them plainly: in a few hours, it would begin. Judas would come with a torch-lit crowd. Peter would deny him. All would flee. Jesus was walking toward the cross, knowing full well how everyone, friend and foe alike, would fail him. He had prepared them for this very moment. He had made the urgency clear.
And yet none of it could be communicated. The explanation did not become experience. The warning did not become understanding. He was carrying a weight so immense, a pressure so suffocating, and his closest friends simply could not feel it. They had no framework or capacity for it, so they slept.
Still, in that garden, he asked them to stay.
This is the paradox of human relationships and divine love: we keep asking people to show up, even when we know they might not. We keep trusting, even when we know trust can break. Total isolation is not how God designed us to live.
Jesus didn’t withdraw from his disciples after they fell asleep. He returned, gently, three times, each time offering another chance to stand with him. He bore their failure while still carrying their need.
The Loneliness of the Inner Circle
There is another layer we rarely discuss: Jesus was lonely even in the presence of his closest friends. He had explained to them, again and again, what was about to happen. He had warned them. He had asked them to stay awake and watch. And yet three men sat mere feet away, people who knew Jesus better than anyone else alive, people who had walked with him for years, who had witnessed his miracles and heard his teaching, and they did not carry even a sliver of the burden pressing down on his soul.
They could have heard his prayers if they had stayed awake. They could have held his hand if they wanted to. They could have just prayed for their own strength to avoid temptation, as Jesus had suggested.
But they slept.
And that is the heartbreak of it. Even the people closest to us, the ones who know our story, who have walked with us the longest, who claim to understand, cannot feel our pressure. They cannot share our urgency. They sit beside us in our storm and remain dry.
We see it throughout Scripture. David wept, and his friends offered confusion and accusation. Job suffered, and his so-called comforters became his accusers, men who meant well, who showed up, who thought they were helping, but who only deepened his wound.
God’s people are flawed. His closest followers are broken. And when those closest to someone are facing depression or despair, even the most well-meaning, devoted supporters often do not know what to do. Some try to fix it. Some try to talk the distressed person out of it. Some say the wrong words, making the isolation worse. None of them can cross the gap and feel what that person feels. And yet, He keeps choosing them. He shows up even when they cannot.
What Do We Do When Let Down?
This series began by naming despair, and now we name the disappointment and stresses that often fuel it. When the people we love and trust fail us, when they are absent in the way we need them most, it can confirm the darkest thoughts we already carry: I am alone. No one really cares. I have to do everything myself.
But Gethsemane tells a different story.
Jesus was let down. Deeply, painfully, completely. And yet, his response was not bitterness. It was not isolation. It was prayer. Surrender. The choice to carry the burden himself while still leaving the door open for his friends to return.
He asked them to watch. He gave them another chance. And when they slept, He turned to God. He recognized, with clear eyes, that only the Father could make a difference in the moment He was in.
We live in a culture that tells people in despair to put on a brave face, to look on the bright side, to fake it until they make it. But despair and depression are not problems of perspective; they are weights, and no amount of positive thinking lifts them. Rose-colored glasses do not work in the dark. The night is real. The pressure is real. The pain is real. Trying to smile through Gethsemane does not make the cross any less real. Jesus didn’t put on rose-colored glasses. He didn’t pretend it wasn’t coming. He named it. He felt it. And when His friends could not help, He turned to the only One who could.
What does that mean for us?
Disappointment by others does not have to become bitterness. Jesus could have walked to the cross resentful of his disciples. Instead, he walked in prayer. He showed us a different way to respond when people fail us.
When your friends fail you, the temptation is to shut down, to never let anyone in again, to carry everything alone. But Jesus showed us a different way: keep asking, keep inviting, keep giving the benefit of the doubt. Not because people deserve it, but because isolation is a prison with no freedom inside.
And Jesus understands the specific pain of being let down, and more than that, the pain of being uncomprehended. When you are in the depths of depression or despair, you can explain it to your dearest friends, your pastors, your family, and still be met with confusion, well-meaning advice, or silence. No one else has stood where you are standing. No one else has felt the weight pressing down on your soul. Jesus does. He stood in Gethsemane, sweating blood, feeling the full brunt of what was coming, hearing His Father’s judgment approach, and He had no one to carry it with Him. He knows what it is to be utterly alone in your suffering, even while surrounded by people who claim to care. “I am with you always” — and that presence is real precisely because he knows what abandonment feels like from the inside. He is not done carrying you yet.
A Word to the Disciples (Including You and Me)
Do not read this passage, and only feel sympathy for Jesus. We are his disciples too. We are the ones who fall asleep when he needs us. We are the ones who promise to watch and then close our eyes.
“The spirit is willing, but the body is weak” — Jesus spoke these words to Peter, but they apply to all of us. We want to be there for people. We want to serve in our purpose for Christ. We really do. But life is exhausting. Distractions multiply. We get tired. And in the moments when someone we love needs us most, we find ourselves spiritually, emotionally, or physically absent or lacking.
The good news is that Jesus’ response was not condemnation. It was an invitation to try again. He didn’t expel the disciples from the garden. He returned a second time, then a third, offering another chance.
Maybe you’ve been let down recently and need to hear that Jesus saw it, that it hurt him too, and that he is carrying what you cannot.
Maybe you’ve been the one who let someone else down, and you need to hear that Jesus’ response to failure was not to cut you off, but to draw you closer and ask you to try again.
The garden holds space for both.
In the Garden Still
Part 1 showed us a Jesus who despaired, who wept, who carried a weight too heavy for any human heart. Part 2 shows us a Jesus let down by the people he loved most — who stayed in prayer even when abandoned, who offered grace instead of anger.
The parts yet to come will cover Judas’s betrayal, the kiss that sealed his fate, and Peter’s temptation: the one who swore he would never leave Jesus’ side, who denied him three times before the rooster crowed, and who later became the rock on which the church was built.
But for now, if you are in the garden, if you are grieving the disappointment of someone you trusted, if you are wondering whether you will ever feel truly seen or supported by the people around you, know this:
Jesus knows. He was there. He felt it. And he did not turn away.
Matthew 26:40-41 NIV 40He returned to his disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, “So couldn’t you watch with me for one hour? 41Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”
He came back to them. He always comes back. And so can you.
Garden of Gethsemane Part 1
Christ's DespairApril 15, 2026Introduction
Even though Jesus was the Son of God, he still experienced very human emotions and situations. It might not sit well with many, but Jesus had emotions, especially during his final days, that people might label as too human. In this series based on Christ’s final free moments, I want to explore the very raw and human emotions that we can all relate to in overwhelming situations.
Jesus experienced so many disappointments and betrayals before his arrest. We’ll see that Judas wasn’t the only one in the inner circle who failed Christ, and how, despite knowing and seeing those other shortcomings, Jesus’ responses in those moments show He is exactly who man needed for salvation.
While we explore scripture about Christ’s final days, we will touch on some dark and uncomfortable emotions, but I hope that seeing Jesus during his emotional and spiritual battles before his crucifixion, we will be able to connect with Him and know that He experienced crushing situations as a man. We aren’t alone in our suffering and pain. God sent Jesus to experience the darkness of man and the world before the Crucifixion.
Despair
We’ll start in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus had the Last Supper with his disciples, and he knew what was coming later that night. Those who were still with him came to the garden, but he took his inner circle deeper in while he prayed.
Mark 14 : 32 - 34 NIV 32They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” 33He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. 34“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, ”he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.”
The farther Jesus got, the more the weight of the situation became. The Greek used in version 33 is ekthambeisthai and adēmonein, which means Jesus was experiencing oppressive, sad emotions. Jesus experienced despair and overwhelming sorrow, Perilypos, to the point that he told the three with him that he felt he might die.
Jesus was feeling the absolute, eternal burden placed on his shoulders. Those who have experienced extreme distress and sadness will be able to relate to the crushing feeling of moments that hurt so much, but are outside of their control.
Even with the sorrow and despair, Jesus went to pray. He asked his closest friends to watch over him while he approached God. He knew that while the burden was his alone, it wasn’t good for him to isolate.
Mark 14 : 35 - 36 NIV Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. 36“Abba, Father, ”he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”
Jesus fell to the ground, crying out to God, his Father, to take this pain, responsibility, and weight from him. Despite knowing that it was within God’s power to prevent what was coming and to take away his responsibilities, Jesus also knew what had to be done. Jesus’ behavior and the first part of his prayer are probably something everyone has experienced and done.
Too often, we all pray and behave that way, even when we know that the situation is our own fault. We cry out to God to stop the pain, to change the situation, and to pick us up off the ground where we threw ourselves. But Jesus didn’t stop there, and that is the biggest part. Despite the sorrow and despair, despite essentially having a panic attack, Jesus handed over the situation to God and got up to do what had to be done.
When depressed or overwhelmed, it’s easy to throw the situation at God and wallow in the dirt with our despair. Even when we do get up, too often we pick up the burden again and forget about God. “Yet not what I will, but what you will” doesn’t mean we should continue as though it’s all futile. Submitting to God’s will doesn’t mean we passively accept despair — it means we trust Him with our despair and move forward in hope. Giving it to God and believing in His will means we need to give Him all the emotion and weight, and know that we aren’t giving up or moving on without hope.
Christ experienced the lowest lows, throwing himself in the dirt, but he didn’t stay there. Even knowing that the situation wouldn’t change, he knew that giving it over to God and doing what had to be done would bring about real change.
Regardless of your level of despair, depression, anxiety, or anger, Jesus understands and has experienced it himself. Without his human experiences, he would not have been able to fulfill his purpose and couldn’t have been Christ. Jesus was sent to be the bridge from broken man to his purpose and creator. Without his experiences as a man and his ability to thrive despite the world, he wouldn’t have been able to serve as our conduit now.
In the next parts, we will continue to explore the disappointment and betrayal Jesus experienced before his arrest.
Convictions
November 6, 2020Mark 10: 2-12 2Some Pharisees came and tried to trap him with this question: “Should a man be allowed to divorce his wife?”
3Jesus answered them with a question: “What did Moses say in the law about divorce?”
4“Well, he permitted it,” they replied. “He said a man can give his wife a written notice of divorce and send her away.”
5But Jesus responded, “He wrote this commandment only as a concession to your hard hearts. 6But ‘God made them male and female’ from the beginning of creation. 7‘This explains why a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, 8and the two are united into one.’ Since they are no longer two but one, 9let no one split apart what God has joined together.”
10Later, when he was alone with his disciples in the house, they brought up the subject again. 11He told them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries someone else commits adultery against her. 12And if a woman divorces her husband and marries someone else, she commits adultery.”
Convictions from God
When the Pharisees tried to trap Christ by asking about divorce, they were trying to trip him up with Man’s logic and laws. Jesus dodged their trap by addressing their laws and God’s higher calling of Man in both his response and the follow-up.
Moses’ laws were based on God’s recognition that Man’s sin is more destructive than God’s desire for Man’s holiness. Jesus says that the only reason Moses was allowed to create laws that allowed divorce is that Man was so corrupt that he would cause more damage than good when expected to be holy.
Old Testament law allows for sin because Man by himself can not redeem himself. God allowed additional sin because He was attempting to protect Man’s innocence from Man’s sin and corruption.
This means that in light of Christ’s love and Man’s redemption, which is only the result of Christ’s sacrifice and crucifixion, and God’s grace, the Old Testament Laws can’t necessarily be guides or justification for Christian Man’s actions. God’s original design again becomes the standard. Man isn’t meant to be the judge, because even in his redemption, he is incomplete and falls short of the righteousness of God, but he is meant to be the best representative of Christ-Come-Again as humanly possible. That means our convictions will supersede the old laws because our calling to holiness is a higher standard than even Moses’s worldly laws.
Man’s justifications and logic will never match the original intent of God’s creation because sin has handicapped us on every level, but our redemption through Christ calls us to make every effort to attempt to worship God in our original, unblemished form. That means that any use of scripture to justify our actions and sin is wholly and completely out of scope, and pushes us farther from the holiness God intended for us, and even corrupts and interferes with our redemption.
We are sinful, and God has provided us with grace to cover our shortcomings, but anytime Man’s actions and failures are justified through scripture, prayer, or man’s own reasoning, we are furthering the gap between God and ourselves to spite grace.
God created us as relational beings to walk with Him, and as a result, our active walk with Him will stir up convictions that supersede the Old Law, because His holiness can do nothing but drive out our imperfections and sin, regardless of how we justify them.
When we focus on our relationship with God, our convictions will always be the strongest signal of our growth towards God’s intended condition for us. But as flawed people, we will still need the Law for instruction and guidance, especially regarding blind spots. Understanding the Law and its intentions can grow and direct us to God when we are struggling to hear His natural voice and guidance.
2 Timothy 3:16 - ESV 16 All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,
2020: The Year of Compassion
August 21, 2020There has been little more apparent this year than the fact that a large majority of the US population is divided. Everywhere you look, it appears that battle lines have been drawn. We have the Millennials vs Boomers, the Left vs Right, the Masks vs Rights, Black Lives Matter vs Blue Lives Matter. There are people mentally breaking because of the pull in so many different directions.
It doesn’t help that society itself has so many conflicts falling into place all at the same time. And those emotions and arguments are overflowing into our churches.
I compared the hardships to Moses’ wandering in the desert. I’ve also compared the current conflict within the Church to Christ’s role in the spiritual war. As a Christian leaning on God’s direction, nothing is more apparent than that 2020 will either result in Christians learning compassion or in their breaking.
“Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. Luke 10:33 NLT
The fact that this year is an election year adds to the social turmoil, but the frustrations stemming from the shortcomings of our political leaders on both sides don’t change our calling. The world needs the Good Samaritan. The world needs field medics. Field medics are trained as soldiers and know how to fight, but their priorities are driven by their oath to serve and nurture the wounded. Their compassion for others is meant to outweigh their concerns for the battle. Sometimes that service requires fighting, but when it does, it isn’t for themselves, but because the safety of others depends on it.
Christians who are driven by hurt and anger to fight only add to the hurt and anger of the world. Without a compassionate servant’s heart, you are more likely to do more damage than help and heal.
2020 will be a year where Christians learn compassion, or it will be a year that they are indistinguishable from non-believers, and completely fail at our mission. When our emotions and energies for political conflict are greater than our ability to show God’s grace and love to the world, then we have lost the war. God’s calling is never based on our status or even our well-being, because in Eternity’s priorities, nothing but eternal changes matter.
If 2020 hasn’t taught you compassion, then you aren’t listening. It’s hard to help and hold others up when you can barely stand on your own, but the Good Samaritan helped where he could; he wasn’t called to do it all. Compassion calls you to do what you can, which is often significantly more than the world will do for others. For many, compassion is simply setting aside our personal struggles long enough to learn about the struggles of others around us. We have all been called to compassion and to pray, and both require more outward reflection than inward conflict.
Exodus Moment
June 26, 2020I’ve told several people, while reflecting on everything that has occurred in just half a year, that I’ve seen these events as more of an Exodus moment rather than a Revelation moment. And the farther we get into the year, my feelings have been bolstered by new events and personal experiences.
Moses was sent to Pharaoh to ask to release God’s people. God used the plagues as a tool against Pharaoh’s hard heart. Pharaoh, who was considered a god by the Egyptians and had no concern for the requests of the God of Israel, laughed at Moses’ request that the Israelites be allowed to go celebrate this other god. Even with all of the demonstrations and plagues, Pharaoh’s heart remained hard.
We may not be enslaved by man, but so many hearts are hard right now. And this is why I see this as more of an Exodus moment. The hardened hearts need to break. The man-made gods must fall. For far too many, our selfishness has led us to hold on to our hardened hearts and cry out to our self-made gods, even when God’s heart and reality don’t align with what we want. The fear of future struggles and the pain of the present one prevent us from moving beyond the plague and hardship we face.
The Hebrews were not freed into paradise. Their freedom was never promised to be comfortable, even before they messed up and were punished. God has never promised comfort. God will provide peace, but only in His presence and will. God provided for the Hebrew people while they endured their punishment and wandered the desert, but his provision still required discipline and trust. Even when He provided mana each morning, God expected His people not to hoard the blessings. His guidance and presence were always there, but He was always leading and moving His people through struggles and uncomfortable environments.
A life of peace in your freedom within His will is the promise, not the life of comfort without discipline.
Life is a constant struggle because we live in a sinful world. A close relationship with Christ will bring peace and blessing, but never confuse peace and blessing with consistent comfort. An active relationship with your Savior will be a state of constant conviction and never-ending change when we use Christ as our benchmark and our God-given purpose as our guide. Change is often uncomfortable.
The Intellectual Introvert's Dilemma, Part 2
January 10, 2016In the previous post I wrote about what could be a difficult aspect of salvation for an introvert, especially for someone driven by their own understanding and accomplishments. But salvation isn’t the entire story; it’s only the very beginning of what will most likely be a long journey. Until you’re called to Heaven through death, or other means, you’ve got to work out this whole relationship thing with God. And that, regardless of your personality, can be a daunting task. Especially when it comes to dealing with our guilt and the truckload of baggage we all carry every day. Salvation only wipes the slate clean from the perspective of the charges against you that prevent you from an eternity with God. Despite the emotional and spiritual high that most of us feel after the event, being saved hardly touches all the mess that we still carry.
Some are lucky and some of that baggage is removed, but for the intellectual introvert, the pain, memory, and guilt of our past usually hit us in the face very abruptly shortly after the honeymoon phase is over. While it’s not quite the same as salvation, the introvert’s baggage isn’t going to go away through works or good deeds. If that were a possibility, the baggage wouldn’t be there to begin with.
So… We’re back to this relationship thing.
Luckily for the introvert, the most difficult part of a relationship is usually starting it. This one is slightly different, since an unusual level of trust has been established through the salvation process. That process makes the one-on-one relationship a piece of cake for the introvert, creating practically ideal conditions for the only kind of pleasurable social interaction an introvert might experience. But when you aren’t driven by your emotions or the interaction in a relationship, the relationship is driven more by analytical and mental activities than by outward feelings and expressions. The problem with thoughts running wild is that it becomes entirely too easy to “talk” your way out of pursuing the relationship because of the very pile of things you need the relationship to fix, all that baggage, guilt, and pain.
Instead of expressing our concerns and opening up to allow God to work in us, we, as introverts, get guilt-driven tunnel vision. Tunnel vision leads us to distance ourselves from God and to irrational fears about our value. Justifications for our distance will then have to be made, which lead to one of two things: depression or building up delusional walls of pride. It’s easy to be proud and ignore our faults, become our own god, as long as we don’t have to face the real God. And on the other end of the spectrum, we ignore the good around us and create a self-pitying echo chamber, further devaluing and distancing ourselves. It’s easy for us to ignore God and his power when we’ve made a god out of our problems.
The most difficult part of the post-honeymoon stage for a new Christian is dealing with all their other gods. For a self-empowered introvert, that means trying to kill the other gods off on our own. It usually takes us too long to realize that once the power is given to a god, you can’t overcome it without the power of a God. That’s why the relationship thing is still important. That’s why salvation is only the very beginning of the journey.
The Intellectual Introvert's Dilemma
January 8, 2016I’m an introvert. For those of you who know me, this isn’t a surprise. I also judge others by their abilities and accomplishments. I know, we aren’t supposed to judge others, but every one of us does. Another thing, name-dropping doesn’t impress me. I couldn’t care less if you have Bono on speed-dial, had lunch with President Obama on Tuesday, and are on a first-name basis with Bill Gates. If I needed one of those individuals’ ears, I might ask you to help deliver a message I had already sent their way, but if that’s how we’re evaluating you, you don’t even register on the dial. You’d probably impress my wife, but in many cases, name-dropping does the exact opposite for me.
If you want to impress me, then you have to show me what you’ve done, what you know, and what you can do. I want direct results. As a result, I also evaluate myself based on my accomplishments and intellectual knowledge. As a result, I have very little desire to extend my social reach. Because of that, networking makes me shut down completely. Small talk just makes me think about all the books I could be reading or tasks I could be completing, or wishing for meaningful topics of conversation.
Just imagine…
Now, imagine what happens when a person with my personality encounters the gospel. You see, our salvation has absolutely nothing to do with our abilities, our knowledge, our accomplishment, or our work. It has everything to do with who you know. You can’t work your way into God’s grace. You can’t earn your salvation. It was given to you by God as a result of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice on the cross for us so that we could have a relationship with Him. Your eternity is completely dependent on your spiritual networking. And guess what? You have to “schmooze up to boss’ son” before you can bridge the gorge-dug-by-sin and reach The Big Man.
Yes, God can see all those good deeds, and he has heard about you through the grapevine. He is the grapevine. You might be a hot up-and-comer in the Changing the World department at Life, Corp., but without that relationship with Christ you can’t truly reach your potential no matter how hard you work. The boss’ executive suite will always be out of reach. No amount of work you do can make up for neglecting your relationship with Christ. No amount of time spent doing good can make up for the time that Christ was displaced from your life. You can not work hard enough or long enough to overcome Christ’s absence.
My salvation is completely dependent on my faith and relationship with Christ. Now, I’ll admit that it’s a long-standing relationship and is nothing like schmoozing to get ahead in life. But if I hadn’t accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior, and had to do so today, I’d probably be stuck on a good deeds treadmill.
If you’re someone trying to earn your way into Heaven, please stop what you’re doing for a second and seek out the guy you really need to know. Trust me, you’re only going to work yourself to death otherwise.
A Solemn Final Earthly Good-Bye
September 23, 2013My Grandmother passed away this evening. And while it is a sad affair, especially for my mom, all of my aunts, and my uncle, it’s also a huge release. I guess you can say I’ve been lucky because I haven’t had to deal with any of the struggles over the last several years since I live so far away. She had Alzheimer’s for quite a while now, and as a result, the journey at the end of her life was a chaotically inconsistent one.
My Grandparents never had much of anything, except a lot of family. I wasn’t very close to my Grandmother, even before we moved to North Dallas, but many of my fondest memories are with the whole family. The last time I saw my Grandmother, I wasn’t a child anymore, and her state had progressed enough that she couldn’t figure out who I was. I knew from the letters she had sent my sister while she was in the hospital, and the gifts that occasionally accompanied them, that mentally she wouldn’t be able to reconcile the gap between the present and her memories. So, in a way, when I last saw her, at my paternal grandpa’s funeral, I said good-bye to two grandparents. But the reality is, this is the final and real good-bye. And despite having already realized that the woman who was my Grandmother had become more like a child, and having already processed the emotions that accompany loss, the real good-bye is still sad. She is in a much better place; her suffering has finally ended, and everyone can rejoice in that regardless of the level of loss her real passing produces.
Her struggle is one that I fear a lot, though. I have the genetic predisposition for early Alzheimer’s, which, for someone who values their mental faculties so much, is a truly frightening aspect of growing older. While the possibility of not finishing our final years on Earth solving the most complex problems is still disappointing, living the final years of our lives with all the baggage we refuse to let go of and the bitterness that has seeped into our hearts is significantly worse. I don’t wish dementia on anyone, but I realized that some of us might just need a more authoritative reset in our lives before we’re called home. I’m sure many people close to me would enjoy me much more during my final days if I had the innocence of a child and the opportunity to reboot my view of the world.
I don’t believe that Alzheimer patients are cursed by God so that they have to live life again like a child before they die. But I do believe that God can use those final years to repair those around us and maybe even help us truly enjoy the world again before we depart. It’s an opportunity for those who take life too seriously. I may be a huge advocate for understanding and sharing unconditional love, but if I died today, my jaded and calloused heart would have left scars on others’ hearts without me having the time to help mend their wounds. I say this not to minimize the tragedy of Alzheimer’s but to reflect on what it might teach us about letting go. Many of us need self-inflicted dementia, a reset, so that we can stop the excuses and the hurting, and start the healing. Christ showed us unconditional love, and as a result, we are expected to share it with others. Loving unconditionally is so much easier with the innocence and mindset of a child.
Stop taking life so seriously and really live. Which means you have to leave your junk behind and let God’s love heal you so you’ll be free to love others.
Unconditional Love
January 28, 2013Introductions can sometimes be an awkward thing. Especially when it comes to trying to set the stage for a mixed bag of emotions and writings on a blog. I came up with the concept for this blog back in 2011 while trying to figure out a decent name and domain for our new family blog, but I haven’t really taken action to set anything up until now.
I don’t know exactly what will happen here, or if I’ll publish all of the things I’ve jotted down and written since the idea started rolling around in my head. Ultimately, I’d love to have this blog as a place where several people can post their experiences, testimonies, and thoughts.
The original intent for the blog was to provide a layman’s discussion about Christ, the love and sacrifice, and the grace extended to us. I’m an introverted, bookwormish person, and love learning and understanding things. As a result, I can sometimes seem like I know what I’m talking about, but when it comes to theology and the in-depth knowledge about Christianity some might feel that my knowledge, understanding, and translation of such is far too shallow to take seriously. My faith isn’t base on understanding. It’s one of the very few areas of my life that I don’t care to be as knowledgable and educated as I possibly can be. Not because I look down on people that want to learn the in-depth dissections of the Greek and Hebrew meanings of scripture and discuss the politics of Luther and Calvin, but because a huge part of my relationship with God, and, therefore, all aspects of my faith, are dependent on unconditional love. And because my mind loves shortcuts, everything else out there seems like a waste of energy.
I say all of this to set the stage for the disclaimer. Don’t take anything I write at face value. Learn what scripture has to say about the topic.
About
January 11, 2012Unconditionally Loved Us was originally conceived after the birth of my first daughter. I’ve always felt a need to help people understand exactly what unconditional love feels and looks like. My personal journey depends completely on God’s love for me since it is the reason I’m still here.
Since my initial experience of that love as a teenager in the depth of depression, I’ve grown to understand so much more about God’s love and purpose for each of us. This blog is meant to allow me a place to share those thoughts, in a hope that others will be able to experience the great depth of God’s love for us all.