Believing Jesus During the Norovirus

Some days I feel unconquerable. The other 364 days, not so much.

Today was a not so much day. I am recovering from the Norovirus. The word wobbly describes my day, and soft carbs describes today’s diet. Talk about a Come to Jesus meeting in the bathroom where I slept for 12 straight hours. It just made more sense to make my bed on the tiled floor, if you get my meaning. And as sick as I was, it’s crazy how I was able to reevaluate my priorities when I was face-to-face with my toilet.

I don’t understand how anyone can skip religion. Atheism makes no sense to me, even if it were to be right. Who wants to live believing there is nothing? While I was on vacation with the family, I had a free moment to sit in my swing and gaze out at the ocean, and this thought popped into my head. What if Jesus is a hoax? My next thought was a prayer. I said, “Lord, are you a hoax? Please don’t be. That would just be unbearable.”

A world without Jesus would be unbearable.

I do understand, especially after reading some of the thoughts on Facebook about the whole Hobby Lobby deal, that more people consider Jesus to be a hoax than not, and many consider me, because I am a Christian, to be one too. So be it. At 55, I simply don’t care. I have thrown my lot in with Jesus and that’s that.

We talked Sunday in our Connect Group (what used to be called a Sunday School class) about the long haul of faith. About that moment when it is necessary for you to choose if your are going to believe Jesus, or the world, or your doubts? I’d say for most of my faith life, my doubts won the battle. But, lately, I feel the Lord calling me to something higher, better, more determined in Him. I feel him saying, believe me. I have believed in him, a phrase I don’t even really like because it is rather like saying I believe in ghosts, when what I mean by it is that I know him. I know him personally, but I haven’t always believed him. I generally see the circumstances and not the author and perfecter of my faith. Now, I feel him speaking directly to my spirit, saying, believe me, and rest in me.

I like the way The Message, a contemporary translation of Scripture put it:

Psalm 31:24
Be brave. Be strong. Don’t give up.Expect God to get here soon.

I have lived as though I did not expect him to get here at all. I have lived as though I was just trying to finish up here and make it to him. Some days, one of those 364 other days, I’d tell him I was ready to go if he was ready for me to come. I don’t think he is ready for me to come. I think he wants to show me that he can be faithful right here, right in the midst of life’s craziness, and the Norovirus.

I have made life harder by believing in him, but not believing him.

I have skipped the rest he promised the weary in Matthew 11:28, and soldiered on, not expecting him, but hoping I could make it until I got to him. The journey was mine, and I guess I figured he was in heaven furrowing his hallowed brow, wondering if I’d make it. It never occurred to me that he was walking the journey with me. Like he said in John 14:18, I will not leave you as orphans, I will come to you. If there was ever good news, that is, and yes, please do come to me, Jesus. That was my simple prayer in the bathroom last night, “Come to me.”

Perhaps that is really the only prayer–come to me. The good news? He said he would before we even asked.


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