Holy Week

Well, so far so good with little “Jacob and Esau.” Please keep praying
(or whatever your brand of praying is.) My daughter has been through so
much and we so want these babies to live. I can’t help but hope and
dream and imagine what they will be like and anticipate MY baby’s
happiness and fulfillment when she brings them home from the hospital.
(I don’t want to even say, “if.”)

It’s Holy Week and I’ve been
thinking so much about Jesus and about God. I have been feeling so
blessed and been feeling so much love for them/Him… it’s sort of hard
to put into words because they’re three in one (Jesus, God – The
Father, and The Holy Spirit). So when I feel love for them, it’s sort
of like feeling love for one entity, yet feeling love for, well, two
entities because I have a hard time defining the Holy Spirit as an
entity of its own since the Holy Spirit almost always feels like the
“voice” of God to me. It, or I should say, “He, (the Holy Spirit),”
doesn’t feel so much like a separate entity the way Jesus and God do. I
guess that’s because there are no particular stories about the Holy
Spirit written in concrete words in the Bible the way there are stories
about God, The Father, and Jesus.

Jesus seems the most concrete
to me. That, of course, is because He became flesh and walked around
and led people and taught and died. You can get a sense of His
personality from the Gospels. Also, Jesus isn’t as scary as God is when
He’s portrayed in the Old Testament. I used to feel like Jesus was the
guy that protected us from God because the Old Testament makes one VERY
intimidated by God. More reading, praying and a more mature faith
began, over time, to straighten out some of those perceptions but God
still scares me. Then again, the fear of God is not such a bad thing.
It can keep you in line. Even the Bible concurs with that.

I,
however, have not been swept up in that these last few days but,
instead, have been swept up in love for my Savior and for my Creator.
So many blessings and such peace and something indescribable in my
heart that they’ve given me that I can’t thank them enough for nor love
them enough for. I want to pour out my love for them. I feel like I did
when I was little and used to make things for my mom that said, “I love
you Mom!” These are the moments when I completely understand the woman
who poured the oil on Jesus’ feet then rubbed it in with her hair. Oh,
what I would give to do that! And, with such insight, He said, “Those
who have been forgiven much have much to be grateful for,” (yes, I know
I didn’t quote that perfectly, but you get the idea). Such true words
and I always remember those words. How grateful I am that He has
forgiven me such sins that I have committed and they have been
grievous. Lies, greed, adultery (not in this marriage at least),
cheating, hating and many more and even worse the sins I WOULD have
committed had I thought I could do them without getting caught. I’ve
been forgiven all of those and handed a fresh slate (which I still
manage to mess up and for which I still receive forgiveness).

I
wish sometimes that I could see Jesus’ hands. Just one glimpse of the
Savior’s hands. I’ll bet he had long, strong, fingers – almost gnarled
with the work he performed as a carpenter, sinewy and muscled. And I’ll
bet He used them when He preached and taught. He had to have been a
riveting teacher. He probably used his whole body as he gave a parable.
I’m sure He didn’t just stand there with His eyes cast upward like they
do in the movies. People would have gone to sleep. I’ll bet he preached
like a revival preacher LOL – folks probably couldn’t tear their eyes
from Him. Maybe they cried or clapped (I wonder if clapping was the
thing they did back then to acknowledge agreement – did they say,
“Amen,” I wonder.) And I bet his robes flew back and forth as he made
his points. He probably bent and stretched and was lively as He spoke.
And maybe His hair picked up the glint of the middle eastern sun in the
afternoon making almost a halo and mesmerizing His followers. Certainly
humans are humans and many women likely had terrible crushes on Him…
let’s be realistic. I’m sure He made jaws drop with His charisma. The
book of Isaiah says He would not be a particularly handsome man but
have you ever noticed that one does not have to be physically handsome
to be incredibly charismatic? Personality can make a plain person very
attractive. I would just love to lay my eyes on Jesus… to watch Him for
awhile… to worship Him in person. I would love to walk with Him, to
have dinner with Him, to chat and laugh and talk with Him. Can you
imagine that? How wonderful it must have been to be His disciple or His
friend… to have been Mary or Martha. (Then again, His disciples all
ended up in prisons and beheaded, stoned or worse so it would have been
a life of suffering and sacrifice. Would I have been up to it? Probably
not. I’m spoiled and weak but I guess we can do all things through
Christ who strengthens us, so who knows. If it was His will for me to
be there and do those things, I suppose He would have created me able
to do those things.)

Anyway, I point myself toward heaven and
just hold out and believe that I will get my ultimate wish when that
final time comes. Just to be with my Savior and to know Him — really
know Him. In the meantime, I can just imagine, read my Bible and
speculate. Of all the things that have made my life bearable and even
given me happiness, the one aspect of my life that has made the most
difference has been my relationship with Jesus since age seventeen. I
believe that this relationship kept me from worse troubles than I got
myself into (and I got myself into plenty). I believe this relationship
ultimately led me to my current marriage and has kept this marriage
strong. And I believe this relationship led to my therapy and has made
that therapy successful. I have a wonderful husband and a great
therapist, but I truly believe that God works through them and through
me and is the key to all the doors that have opened in my life. He is
truly magnificent and I am nothing without Him.