Eyes UP look OUT

Like every Christian on the planet this time of year, my scripture reading of the crucifixion and resurrection has been in full flow during this Easter season.

I’ve been thinking about Thomas over the past few days after re-reading the passage in John and scanning words before that I’ve never really stopped to think about.

Jesus appears to his disciples. It’s an epic moment.

Thomas isn’t there.

8 days later he appears to Thomas.

8 days!!!!!

8 days of listening to your mates talk about something they’ve witnessed and you haven’t.

8 days of wondering why he hasn’t appeared to you.

8 long days.

I feel sorry for Thomas and can identify with what may have been going on in his head. He really wasn’t in the right place at the right time. He missed it. We’ve all been there, missed out on something and left waiting and wondering if there’s another opportunity.

But waiting while others are winning is the hardest. I’m going to guess the chat with the other disciples was faith fuelled and high energy. That’s tough to be around when you can’t participate because you missed out. When something you want seems gone and your entire tribe, it seems, are loving life whilst you simply wonder what’s going on – that’s awkward.

I just really wanted to encourage someone today with some home truths from this story.

Even though Thomas missed out on that moment – Jesus gives him his moment. He sees Him 8 days later and is back in the game so to speak. What he struggled to believe and participate in was now his reality too. My Jesus is inclusive. He’s an “all in” guy and wants no one left behind.

The waiting….

Regardless of how long the wait was, should it be 8 days like Thomas, or even if it’s in yearly figures – I love the fact that Jesus did reveal His risen self to this doubting disciple. The unseen became visible eventually and that does my heart good.

I realise that faith at times seems like a leap into darkness, a step into the unknown and an attempt to make the invisible qualities of Gods kingdom a physical reality. It does sound weird – you might not see it with your eyes, but if you believe it in your heart….. it’s childlike but certainly not childish.

Faith is learning to see with different eyes. God’s eyes.

Now faith is the assurance (title deed, confirmation) of things hoped for (divinely guaranteed), and the evidence of things not seen [the conviction of their reality—faith comprehends as fact what cannot be experienced by the physical senses].

Hebrew 11:1 AMP

Jesus said that those who believed without seeing would be truly blessed. So if you aren’t seeing yet – if the gap between what God says and what you are seeing seems massive – choose to believe that a bigger gap means a bigger opportunity for God to work it out. He is always true to His word.

I’ve been challenged with this 8 day thought. When others get it before I do… do I celebrate? Do I huff? Do I ask why them and not me too much? Do I fully trust the process of my journey?

I don’t actually have a final answer to any of those questions at all – the process is still in process. But here’s to trusting Him in the middle of it all.

He is working in the waiting – thankfully!!

Be encouraged – He turns up in His perfect timing and the wait “they” say is totally worth it.

I absolutely love Easter. The reflection and celebration of what is central to my faith. Good Friday can be a bit of a random day as we reflect on the cross with the knowledge of it’s aftermath and what really went down on that first Easter. I don’t approach it as a sombre memory, but with a thankful heart as I embrace it’s message.

I am still processing my recent trip to Israel, and perhaps location has changed something in my view of Easter this year. I am a beautiful mess because of it. There where so many beautiful moments with God on that trip that brought even more meaning to the life and death of Jesus. I am fully aware of a bigger story at play and can’t help but smile as I see the hand of God weaving His kingdom into the mess of our broken world.

The cross is central to it all.

Something beyond a ‘man dying’ took place when Jesus died.

I wonder when exactly it was that they realised something bigger was happening? Was it the unusual darkness in the middle of the day? Was it the huge earthquake as he bowed His head and breathed His last? Was it the detail that the earthquake split the temple curtain?

That’s my favourite part. The temple curtain rend from top to bottom. The declaration that because of what just happened on skull hill, God’s presence is no longer contained in a location in a temple but explodes out, inviting the entire planet to experience what only a select few had the privilege to before the cross.

As I sat in the Garden of Gethsemane a few weeks ago, the weight of His sacrifice hit a new reality. The thought was thrown out that perhaps the most brutal part of His death was His separation from the father. Jesus had never known what it was not to walk intimately with His father. Their union was a given in His life. The thought of separation was agonising and on top of his physical wounds, the reality of Him becoming sin for us resulted in this final blow of breaking this union with His Father.

I have been thinking so much about this. His connection was His way of life, it was His normal. Disconnection from God wasn’t something He had experienced until that moment. Their union was broken for a moment (in light of eternity) – so that all of humanity could experience this connection with the Father. That brief disconnection was brutal for Jesus, His loneliness all too real, His isolation unbearable.

I wonder if we have ever fully embraced the fullness of our ‘bought’ union with God?

We find ourselves in a sweet spot. We get the benefits of His work – someone else pays, and we get the prize. It’s a great deal for us. A free gift. But it was a gift that cost God everything – it cost Jesus His life, and it’s this truth that makes my heart burst with gratitude.

Why on earth would Jesus freely engage with such a raw deal transaction on His part?

For me. For you. To win an entire human race back for His Father – to reconnect what the enemy has torn apart.

As I stood in the sacred pit at Caiphas’s house, where Jesus spent His last night before dying – I could see Him. I imagined him lying in that dark space agonising over his impending sacrifice. For me, this was the most emotional part of my entire trip to Israel. As we read Psalm 88 in that pit, the weight of what Jesus did was overwhelming, especially when we put ourselves into His story and realise our faces in His kingdom is His great reward. As I imagined Him lying there in that place, my mind wondered to this thought of how many people have stood in this place – why do they come? is it this emotional for everyone? 60 of us piled into this tiny space, shoulder to shoulder as everyone took in the heaviness of what was happening. And even though I couldn’t see Him, in my mind I see Him bent over, yet smiling as He fast forwarded in his mind and seen countless believers who would one day stand in that very same room with thankful hearts. I seen Him smile – and I seen that reality encourage his frail heart in that moment.

Me. You. We where the joy set before Him and it kept Him going.

looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Hebrews 12v2

I am still learning to be always be mindful of what He did. It’s easy for it to take preference this time of year when it’s a timely topic – but may I never lose the wonder of my connection to my father because of that first Easter.

Thank you Jesus.