The playfulness of Jesus

If we look, we can see Jesus everywhere, in even the most simple things of life. Here's an example of that from John Eldredge's book "Beautiful Outlaw: Experiencing the Playful, Disruptive, Extravagant Personality of Jesus" (pp. 190-191):

Last night I had a horrible night. I don't quite know how to describe it, but if I even use the word Gethsemane, I lose all by trying to establish a connection. Hours of evil attack, the fruit of which was, I couldn't find Jesus this morning. I felt as though he had abandoned me. Kneeling facedown in my office, worshipping, my face to the floor, I suddenly felt a presence next to me; something dropped by my ear. It was an old chewed-up toy. I looked and there was Oban, waking his tail. Wanna play? The playfulness of Jesus, cheering my heart through my dog. Oban laid down in front of me, and began to lick my hand. It was so merciful, so comforting; the comfort of Jesus.

Look around to see Jesus in your life today.

Pirate hat

Jesus is often playful. He probably has a better sense of humor than most of us. Consider this passage from p. 190 of John Eldredge's book "Beautiful Outlaw: Experiencing the Playful, Disruptive, Extravagant Personality of Jesus":

My son was having a tough freshman year at college. So many students there are bound under the religious fog. It was a lonely fall, filled with misunderstanding. One afternoon, just after a classmate said something particularly hurtful to him, Blaine returned to his room and slumped into his bed, about as low as a young man can get. He looked over to his desk, and 'saw' Jesus sitting there, in his desk chair, a smile on his face. He was wearing a pirate hat. Then he disappeared. A whiff of the Emmaus road.

Now if Jesus appears to you in a pirate hat, how could you not feel better about your situation?

Hope in 2014

As 2014 approaches, many people set New Year's resolutions such as losing weight, spending more time with family, quitting smoking, and more.

In a recent letter from author John Eldredge, he said that God has hope in store for us:

A thrill of hope.

I think it's been quite sometime since my heart felt a thrill of hope. I've certainly had a nudge or two of hope, maybe even a stirring of hope. But wouldn't it be wonderful to feel a thrill of hope, perhaps to feel it in some new way for the first time? Let's see if we can find that, open our hearts to its coming, just as Mary opened herself to the coming of Jesus. . .

As 2014 approaches, my hope for everyone is. . . hope.

The Message

Often we find other things besides Jesus to comfort us when life gets tough. On p. 166 of "The Sacred Romance," his book with John Eldredge, Brent Curtis shares about his comforters and Jesus as our home:

My 'comforter,' my abiding place, was cynicism and rebellion. From this abiding place, I would feel free to use some soul cocaine -- a violence video with maybe a little sexual titillation thrown in, perhaps having a little more alcohol with a meal than I might normally drink -- things that would allow me to feel better for just a little while. I had always thought of these things as just bad habits. I began to see that they were much more; they were spiritual abiding places that were my comforters and friends in a very spiritual way; literally, other lovers.

The final light went on one evening when I read John 15 in 'The Message.' Peterson translates Jesus' words on abiding this way: 'If you make yourselves at home with me and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon.' Jesus was saying in answer to my question, 'I have made my home in you, Brent. But you still have other comforters you go to. You must learn to make your home in me.' I realized that my identity had something to do with simply 'staying at home.'

Jesus, please help us to find our home in you.

Prayers for nations

I have written before about Gordon Dalbey and his self-admitted naivete in challenging the huge demonic strongholds over Los Angeles. On pp. 201-202 of "No Small Snakes: A Journey Into Spiritual Warfare," Dalbey shares how he felt called to pray for nations, but was understandably gun-shy because of his experience praying against the demons of Los Angeles:

...I recalled the teachings on territorial spirits by Australian John Dawson, which I had received in the pastors' group. I thought also of my guitar and tape deck, stolen after I had rushed to pray against territorial spirits over Los Angeles. Instinctively, I hesitated. Was I rashly exposing myself again to further counterattack and destruction in my life? Yes, I was fasting and expected greater power to overcome the enemy -- but could such prayer for entire nations be overstretching proper caution?

I realized that the most compelling argument for my staying open and continuing to pray this way was simply that I had not sought this ministry of warfare, nor had I in any sense set out with a prayer agenda for England. In the past, I had, for example, focused on Los Angeles out of my own impetus. Now, however, the thrust seemed to be coming from outside of myself. Okay, Lord, I prayed, if You're calling me in this moment to pray for particular nations, lead on -- but I will not pray any further unless You show me.

I sat quietly waiting. Moments later, an outline map of Australia came to mind. I waited longer, and the map remained. All right, Lord, if this is from You, show me the spirits over Australia You want me to pray against. Once again, names of demonic activity came to mind, and I yielded and prayed. Within a half hour, I was led to pray as well for Japan, Nigeria, and Russia. (Later, between 1995 and 2008, I ministered in England on nine visits and in Australia on four.)

Listen to the Lord for guidance in your prayers.

Surviving a breakup

A breakup is never easy -- particularly one's first. In "Beautiful Outlaw: Experiencing the Playful, Disruptive, Extravagant Personality of Jesus," John Eldredge recalls on page 190 how Jesus encouraged him to look at Eldredge's first breakup from a different perspective:

Last year, as a wise old sage was praying with me through some of the painful memories of my life, I was immediately reminded of the time in middle school when my first girlfriend broke my heart. These wounds can linger for a lifetime if you let them -- the first cut is the deepest, and all that. We asked Jesus to take me back to the memory. I saw us, the girl and me; it was that fateful summer day. We were in the living room, just as it happened. Then I saw Jesus enter the room. He was quite stern with her, and it surprised me. That mattered to you? I wondered. Very much, he said.

Then Jesus turned to me. I felt his love. I realized I could let the whole thing go. It was so healing. To understand that Jesus is angry about what happened to you is very, very important in understanding his personality but also in your relationship with him and for your healing. What I love about these encounters is that every time -- every time -- Jesus is so true to his real personality. Sometimes fierce, sometimes gentle, always generous, and often very playful.

Ask Jesus to take you back to your memories that need healing.

Beautiful front teeth

The Accuser always enjoys taking our doubts and needling us with them over and over. On pp. 150-151 of "The Sacred Romance," John Eldredge shares the story of his friend Mary, who felt very self-conscious about losing her front teeth during an accident in early adolescence.

Years later, she struggled to finally resolve the issue with dental caps. What should have been a simple procedure took weeks, then months. Appointment after appointment, the caps were either the wrong color, the wrong shape, or the wrong size. When she finally did get a pair that she could live with, the glue didn't hold. Where was the Sacred Romance in such a mundane and yet withering struggle? Why didn't God ride in as hero and provide a beautiful set of caps? Wouldn't that have been the loving thing to do? As the ordeal continued, a major issue of her heart surfaced. Mary's teeth had long been for her a symbol of her struggle with the question of her inner beauty. Her teeth were a source of shameful arrows lodged deep. A seemingly irrelevant nit that God refused to take away became an opportunity to face a fundamental question the heart of every woman asks: Am I lovely? Without the nit, the deeper issue of her heart would never have come up. Once it did, the real battle began.

The Accuser stepped in with a subtle, deadly stream of thoughts: 'Look, just settle for the wrong caps and get on with your life. Your desire for beauty is nothing more than vanity. Things will never change. God doesn't care for your heart or he would have taken care of your teeth.' And finally, 'This is who you really are: unlovely and unlovable.'

Each time Mary looked in the mirror, these sentences urged her to lose heart. Some days, the crisis felt as if it would crush her spirit; on other days, she just felt dumb. Meanwhile, Mary's false lovers took their cue and began offering to help her deal with the pain. Food promised to take away her heartache; busyness lured her to bury it beneath a deluge of Christian service. Even the faith practiced by the charismatic church she attends offered to lift her beyond the struggle if she would only focus on the Lord and worship more frequently.

Thankfully, her True Love was persistent in his pursuit of her heart, refusing to let her take the easy way out. The question of her inner beauty broke to the surface one day, and, fortunately, a friend with eyes for the Romance was there to help her see what was at stake. Once Mary finally turned and faced the core issue, God was able to speak words of loving reassurance: 'You are lovely, Mary, and I want you to offer your inner beauty, your womanly heart to the world.'

Mary's situation was another instance of God using our friends to connect with us.