Epilogue
THE most difficult thing about writing a book for me is clarity. I wanted to be concise, but sometimes I wondered if I said enough or left something out that was really important. I didn’t start out with the intention of even writing an epilogue because, well, who reads those things anyway? But I felt it necessary for my own conscience to pull it together in an unfragmented sort of way as I intended it to come out.
My daughter, Jadyn brings a smile to my face every time she tells someone Jesus lives in her heart. I remember being quizzed as a child: “Where does Jesus live?” The correct response was “In my heart!” I think that’s still a pretty accurate picture of redemption and sanctification, and that’s what I’ve tried to unpack here.
The first essential is that we would experience love in our hearts. God sent His Son, and Jesus came into our hearts because we believed that God loved us. I don’t believe that the average Christian has really experienced that. It hasn’t formed us because we’re not rooted and grounded in it. God really bet the house on love though. If we just knew and experienced the depths of God’s love, we’d truly forever be changed. And we would change the world out of a response to that love.
At His baptism, Jesus heard the words “I love You. I am pleased with you.” I figure if Jesus needed to hear them, they’re pretty important for us as well. These words marked the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He’d never done anything for God up to that point – at least nothing notable enough to be included in the Bible. 33 years of what? Intimacy. And it was out of the affirming voice of God – God’s embrace – that Jesus received a profound awareness of the Father’s affectionate love.
Jesus referred to His Father’s love for Him many times. “The Father loves the Son,” He would say. He connected that love with what He had to do. Because the Father loves Him, the Father lets Him be a part of what He’s doing.
Jesus wanted us to be assured of that love as well; as a matter of fact, it’s one of the primary jobs of the Holy Spirit in us. Romans 5:5 says that the Holy Spirit pours the love of God in our hearts and cries in us “Abba, Father,” and bears witness in our spirits that we are God’s children (Romans 8:15-16; Galatians 4:6).
Long before the Lord’s Prayer became that robotic, heart-numbing, absent-minded background noise of Sunday mornings, it was a passionate, controversial prayer that Jesus taught His followers. Narrowly escaping being stoned to death in John 10 over calling God His “Father,” Jesus perplexes and infuriates the religious when He tells His disciples to do the same thing.
The word He used for Father was “Abba” – an informal, intimate way to express a tender, affectionate love. It expressed trust, belonging, and intimacy. He said, “God wants you to call Him ‘Daddy.’ He wants to move you towards that place with Him where it’s not just a mere word but a natural expression of your heart.”
I’m sure that shook everyone up, because up to that point, the Jews had been referring to God in a very impersonal way.
You know, the name that you call a person says a lot about your relationship with them.
What do you call teachers at school…Mr. or Mrs. Or Ms. What do you call your boss…Mr. or Mrs. – usually not with their first names. What do you call a pastor…Reverend or Brother, etc. What do you call your best friend…usually by their first name
Often we have nicknames for people. Those can be good or bad. Many times though, nicknames say something deeper about a relationship. Most people who know me know that I call my wife, “Mochacita.” That nickname has stuck ever since our honeymoon in Cancun. She got this really dark tan and looked like an island girl. I took 8 levels of Spanish which has enabled me to have the conversational ability of an 18 month old child. There were a few things that I did pick up, and I told Jessica that the interpretation of Mochacita was “little brown girl.” A few years ago, Jessica said, “You never call me by my first name anymore, how come?” I said, “You know, you’re right.” And without really having to think about it, I said, “You know, calling you Mochacita is much more intimate to me than calling you by your first name.”
You see, I call her by a name that expresses my personal experience with her. If anybody else calls her, “Mochacita” – it’s pretty stupid. You know why? Because they don’t know her by that name. It has happened though. A friend of ours once called Jessica that and she and I looked at each other like, “What the…who does he think he is calling you that?”
It blows me away that God could have rightfully required us to call Him something grandiose and abstract. But instead, God chooses for us to call Him “Daddy.” And If God wants us to call Him “Daddy,” it means He wants us to experience Him that way.
Not only does He want us to know Him by that name, but He wants us to get our identity from His name. We really are His sons and daughters. And if we see ourselves that way, we will approach Him much differently.
When we go hang out with people, we usually prepare for those times by showering, dressing up, using breathmints, and watching the clock so we’re on time.
If it’s our parents, we wouldn’t think of preparing for those moments. We may or may not brush our teeth or hair. We walk into the house without knocking. We rummage in the refrigerator like we own the place. We pick up the phone whether they’re on it or not. We wouldn’t care. Because we know we have that access. And we probably wouldn’t get in trouble for it either.
With God, it’s exactly the same way – We have access to Him 24/7 and He actually longs and waits for the times when we’ll show up spontaneously unannounced simply because we desire to be with Him.
Hebrews 4:16
Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may re
ceive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
Imagine what it would be like if we knew God so well that we called Him Daddy. If we knew ourselves so well that we knew we were so favored that we could rummage around in the refrigerator of God’s Kingdom – not like beggars, but -like we own it. We’d no longer jump through hoops, nor would we try to clean ourselves up before going there. We’d confidently say, “Here I am. Don’t you love me?”
And you know what God would do? He’d hop off His throne in an instant to scoop us up!
How differently would we live life?
Sometimes I look at things like loving enemies and the simple fact that Jesus went to death being obedient. I used to wonder how He could do something like that? Mortals in stature weren’t as big as ants in comparison.
I look at my own life and how I’ll fight to win an argument, or to one-up someone, or to save face. It’s an absolute pathetic display – like two kids fighting over a mudpie. We’re so convinced that there is worth in titles and stuff on this planet, when the truth is, if it can die with you or be taken away, it’s worthless.
How could He have possibly given up the right to be called and worshiped as God and submit Himself over to be brutally embarrassed, beaten, and stripped naked by evil men?
Because His worth and identity weren’t given or bound by earth, titles, or His own works. It couldn’t be taken away. His understanding of who He was and His favor with God was the foundation of His ministry. He never sought to establish His worth any other way.
We struggle with humility because we don’t even get who we are and what we already possess. People only strive and fight for things that they have either lost or fear losing. In Christ, we truly have everything.
The other day, my friend Ammar said, “’God loves you’ is the foundation of everything. It’s so basic. But it’s still a concept that’s impossible to grasp by just telling someone it’s true.”
I agreed. That’s why I didn’t spend my time in this book trying to prove God’s love by giving definitions of it. It is all over Scripture, and Jesus’ sacrifice speaks it the loudest. But I mostly didn’t include all of those things, because it is truly a relational dynamic. You simply can’t be told that love. It must be experienced.
I recall being in the delivery room for the birth of our youngest, Jadyn. We knew we were parents about 6 weeks in. We had give-us-baby-stuff parties, went to the classes, brought our oldest Victoria to sibling classes, picked out a name, saw the baby in multiple ultrasounds; we even talked to the baby most days. But nothing could have prepared me for that moment of birth. I was stunned: “Whoa, there was a baby in there this whole time!” It was long before then a reality, but only in that moment did reality finally become tangible for me.
And I could have never prepared for the flood of emotion that felt like a heavy 50 foot wave crashing over me. All I knew was love. I could barely recognize this purple slimy being as mine. She’d never spoken a word. She’d never accomplished anything. She had nothing to offer me. As a matter of fact, she was pretty indifferent to me. But I would have given my life for her. I couldn’t believe I could possibly love someone like that. I was simply undone – lost in love. I couldn’t even gasp for breath for fear of drowning.
And in that moment, I sensed the presence of God. And Daddy said, “Now you’ve experienced an ounce of depth of love I have for you.”
I’ve had times when you could barely recognize me as His. I’ve never accomplished anything truly great. I have nothing to offer Him. I’ve spent most of my life indifferent to Him. But just for a shot at having me. He gave His life for me. And I can’t believe He loves me like that. I’m undone – lost in this love. I can’t breathe for fear of drowning.
There are still times where I go back to performing. There are times when I look in the mirror and I’m confronted with the things that make me not worthy of being loved. There are still times when I strive and want to prove my worth. There are still times of meltdown.
And whenever that happens, whenever the dysfunction ensues, I’m pointed back to my loss of relationship. My missing Love.
God’s ready to leave a mark on your heart. There’s a buzz in the air right now. Do you feel it? It’s God putting the needles into the inkwells of love. If you’d just lay bare your heart, He can make it right, He can heal it, and He can forever tattoo you with His love.
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