Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
One of the perks of moving to Pennsylvania three years ago was its proximity to mountains. Growing up in Illinois — the flatlands, as it’s sometimes called — gave me an affinity for rolling terrain. There’s still something beautiful about being able to see for miles and taking in hundreds of acres of farmland in a single glance.
But there’s something about mountains that takes my breath away.
Where we live in Pennsylvania is a valley between mountains. We can see mountains in the distance in every direction. I was especially fond of the view from our front picture window, looking south.
I thought I had a picture of it. I don’t. I’m sorry.
Even more so because a few months ago, this happened, and we lost our view of the mountain completely.
I sort of feel like this happened in my relationship with God.
Early on, I could see Him clearly. My eyes were opened to His presence, and I could sense Him walking with me on the way to my college classes, answering my prayers for opportunities to speak for Him, and blessing my commitment to write for Him, no matter the outcome.
In those days, before work and family and the stresses of life, God was like the view we used to have. He was right outside my window, and all I had to do was look for Him and I could see Him.
Now, though, God seems harder to find. I don’t doubt He’s there, I just can’t see Him as easily. I get glimpses of His presence, and He’s still answering prayers, but He’s not as … obvious. I’m not even sure that’s the word I’m looking for.
Maybe I’ve taken Him for granted. Like He’s been a part of my life so long that I’ve gotten used to seeing Him show up. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s not where I want to be. Like seeing the mountains again after a long absence in the plains, I want to be struck by His beauty, His majesty, the splendor of His holiness. I want the breath sucked right out of me because I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
The first time I took a walk around our block with Isabelle, I saw the mountain as I rounded the corner onto our street, and while the mountain is the same, the view is different. From this point today, I can still see the mountain unobstructed.
God has not moved. He’s still there. But I may have to change the point from which I look at Him. A different perspective. Through someone else’s eyes. It might be me who has to move to catch a glimpse of Him.
The title was intriguing enough to make me want to read the book. But then a guy named Pete punched Jesus in the face, and I knew I wasn’t going to put the book down until I finished it.
After I picked my jaw up off the ground, and with astonishment, told my husband, “Jesus got punched in the face!”, I kept reading. I wish I could tell you that’s the most incredible thing that happens in the story, but it’s only the beginning. Pretty tame, actually.
But before you write this book off as an irreverent (it sometimes is), silly (that, too), pointless (definitely not) read, consider what the author, Matt Mikalatos, is trying to unearth.
His premise is that we often, unintentionally, create a Jesus of our own liking, rather than take time to get to know the real Jesus. And I’ll tell you right now, the Jesuses we meet in this novel (Magic 8 Ball Jesus is one of my favorites) are uncomfortably convicting, and I’ve had to ask myself if I really know Jesus or if I’ve created him in my own image.
It’s been months since I read this book, but I think about the lessons I learned from it often. This statement, in particular, sticks with me:
“If you never confront the imaginary Jesus, he’ll keep popping up, perverting what you know about the real Jesus. You need to look him in the face, recognize that he’s fake, and renounce him.”
Intrigued? Check out the first chapter here.
Overall, I’d call this a fun-yet-challenging book. Mikalatos accurately pegs the numerous fake Jesuses we create to avoid facing the Maker-Savior-Messiah-Way, Truth and Life Jesus of the Bible and does it in a clever, mostly non-threatening way. I never felt shamed by the fake Jesuses I create but called to confront falsehood and seek truth.
I consider this a must-read for Christians today.
And although the following song is not connected to the book, the two remind me of each other. Besides, it’s a great song by Downhere.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xdh9NOEpu8Y&feature=channel_video_title
Dare to discover the imaginary Jesuses in your life. You won’t regret it.
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“Imaginary Jesus” is one of dozens of books on Tyndale’s Summer Reading Program list. You can earn free books and be eligible for prizes for reading books on their list throughout the summer. It’s free to sign up! Check it out here. As a side note, if you decide to sign up before next Wednesday, June 22, let me know either by commenting, Facebook message or e-mail. I could win a spot on the Tyndale Blog if I refer the most people to the program! Happy reading!