Soft

I wonder what it would have been like to be Jesus. Each and everyday, walking around Israel, meeting people that desperately need your help. Teaching them all, touching some, healing less. How much of their pain would have he felt directly? Would it have been frustrating to see all these people and know that you just don't have time to talk to everyone, to help everyone.

What would have his relationship with God have been like? Was it personal? Did it come and go? Did he memorize scripture as a boy? Was it all in his head? From the early tales we have of Jesus in the court in Jerusalem, it's pretty clear he has wise far beyond his years in interpreting the scriptures, but did he ever become apathetic?

While a lot of the answers to these questions are clear in mixing his humanity and divinity, and even more of them become unclear in that mix, it's important to remember that Jesus experienced many of the same feelings we have, if not all of them.

In the past few weeks, I have been learning that I need to be soft again. Soft in all the right places, and let the calluses that have grown fade. I'd be lying if I said Fiji didn't do a number on me; didn't threaten my spirituality. It was a trying experience, a time in the desert, and while I knew that God walked me through each and every moment, including the months afterwards, it left me tired.

I'm still tired. But the time has come for me to wake up and no longer use that as an excuse or a crutch, but instead to use it as my catalyst. Time to dig in deep, to remember my roots, and revive the parts that have dried and withered. Remember that if I am going to be soft to one thing, receptive to one voice, it's God's. That means more time in the Word, more time on my knees (literally), and more time meditating after both of those things.

This is my commitment.