Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


What They See

I remember telling Worley once upon a time that I didn't care what people remembered of me when I left here, save one thing: I desperately wanted them to see Jesus. That's still the case. I don't want that to be last thing remembered, and in a sense, I don't even want that to be first; I'd rather it be the only thing. The one overwhelming hope I have is that when I leave, I'd have walked in such a way so as to leave people loving and desiring Jesus all the more. I say "overwhelming" not so much because that desire encompasses me and consumes me, but because I fall so darned short of it.

One of the handful of books I've been reading through as of late has been C.J. Mahaney's Humlity: True Greatness. As I read through a couple chapters last night and this morning, I kept thinking of how impossible it seemed for me to show people Jesus when I myself feel as though I have no idea of what my Savior really is like. I mean, I say I know Him, but does my life reflect that? I doubt this a lot, I do. I think about it, and I struggle through it.

It's a good thing that Scripture reassures me that yes, my life does indeed shine with my Savior's glory, dim though that Light may seem at times. Much like the sun's rays break through and paint the dark and stormy clouds with with a beauty otherwise impossible, so does Jesus' saving work break through my repeated failure and doubt to show forth in a beauty worth praising for eternity. That is, undoubtedly, the beauty that the Lord brings forth in the soul of a penitent man, one clinging to the cross in desperate joy, one now clothed in the righteousness of Christ. Do I make it my one goal in life to see that glorious grace, to seek it with all I am? Still more, do I rejoice in it in such a way that others, by grace, will rejoice in it as well?

Worley's gone now, living in Nash Vegas. I still think about that night late last year when we talked about that. That conversation was really ironic, because I gave him a distinctly and infamously wretched first impression of myself. He's one of several who've spoken of meeting me by saying, "Toto, I hated you!" I praise the Lord that Worley's opinion didn't last. In fact, I'm always greeted with a classic Worley bear hug and grin from ear to ear; that's the only way he can smile, I think. I miss the guy and remember him fondly, and I think he'd say the same of me. But you know what? More than anything, I hope he remembers seeing Jesus in me. I certainly saw Jesus in him.

posted by Bolo | 2:40 PM
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