Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.
—2 Corinthians 6:2
“How about today?”
“How about right now?”
“Now is good.”
“Yes, now is a very good time, indeed.”
“Great, let’s do it.”
“Here, sit here.”
“So…how are you?”
Ministry is saying yes and ministry is saying no. Ministry is saying I don’t want to, but God does, so I shall.
Obedience is a place. Not a verb. It is a state. Not an action. Obedience is a chair, indifferent to my personal ambitions, but resting on God’s.
God’s will is the only true act. And the only time we act truly is when we are fulfilling His Divine Good Pleasure.
Yesterday only has meaning in terms of finding God’s blessings.
Today is significant only if lived with the assumption that God has already filled it with blessings that simply need to be discovered.
Tomorrow…well, tomorrow is pretty much the same as yesterday and the same as today…just much, much better…infinitely better in fact…and it lasts for ever.
“No, I’m fine…all yours…take your time, I’m free all day…now go on, you were telling me about your mother…”
Ministry is crucifixion. It is happening now. It began yesterday. Tomorrow remains to be seen.
In the meantime—no matter what we sense or smell, no matter what we taste or see, no matter what we hear or feel—no matter the day of the week—Sunday will arrive.
And then, resurrection minsters to us.
Lord Jesus, help me be like You. Help me pour myself out.
Help me endure the wood of the tree. Help me see the joy that lies ahead. Help me embrace the joy already within. Help me believe the kingdom is truly at hand. Help me, Lord Jesus, help me know it is You in me and I in You. Help me, help me, help me, Lord Jesus…have mercy on me. I thank You because I know You do. Simply because You say.
You are Mercy. You forgive. You heal. You bring peace. You are Innocence. You are the tiny infant. The child running free. The teenager filled with dreams. The young man boldly going west. You are middle-aged and getting tired. You are old and broken down. You are dying on a wooden bed. You are lowered into a weeping mother’s arms. You are put to rest. You enter living hell. You set captives free. You rise. You speak. You break fast. You open the scriptures. You float above. You promise to return. You serve us again and again in the mystery of bread and wine. You feed us relentlessly with Your own Body and Blood.
Help me, Lord Jesus, be more like You. Help me pour myself out.