Wednesday, February 8, 2012

February 8th

I keep writing blogs and not posting them.

Here's one I wrote a few days ago:

So, last night, I was deeply involved in thinking through some line of thought, like I normally do. I forget even what it was that I was thinking through.

I could tell, even as I was working through it, that my logic was fuzzy and I wasn't making the right connections.

With a kind of self depreciating humor, I tossed the whole line of thought aside.

"That was going nowhere," I told Jesus.

I liked it, He said.

"Why?" I asked, immediately. "My line of thinking was full of mistakes, so how could You like it? And why would You tell me that?"

It's difficult to adjust myself to the encouragement of Jesus. I never believed that He might be encouraging.

I always thought that Jesus used only two methods- reward and punishment. If I did something good, I got blessed. If I did something bad, I got punished.

Kind of like a dog trainer.

To answer my question, Jesus drew to my attention first my heart and then Him.

I liked where it was coming from and where it was going, Jesus replied.

"All right," I said. "But I still don't understand why You would encourage me."

In response, Jesus showed me an image of a little girl, about four years old, standing next to me, and chattering on about something very important to her.

Jesus said, If your child shared with you something from the heart, would you condemn her for still being a child, or would you encourage her to continue growing?

I have to admit, when I understood what He was saying, it kind of shook me. Because, of course I wouldn't condemn a four year old for not thinking like an adult.

And yet, that was exactly what I had been expecting Him to do.

Instead, I would be delighted that she was thinking deeply at her own little level; I would not hit her over the head for not being at mine.

As she grew, I'd continue listening and guiding, as life went on. In fact, my ability to teach or guide her effectively would depend a great deal upon her trust in me, and my ability to meet her where she is.

There are certain things that Jesus has said to me over and over again, that He keeps on bringing to the forefront of my mind.

One is that we are His children, and He cannot love us less than a human father could love his children.

Jesus and the Father cannot love less authentically, less passionately, less warmly, less protectively, less tenderly, less faithfully or with less forgiveness than a human father could.

The human reflection cannot contain more meaning or value or depth than the divine reality from which it was cast, and to which it points.