There are people are waiting for us to show them the way to Jesus. Hungry for the what, or rather “the who”, they do not know, they seek in so many places. Racing back and forth hoping to find solace in the arms of another, a something, a what they do not know, they chase success, fame, fortune, busyness. There is a quiet desperation and we hold the key to unlocking the door to peace, healing, and health. The question is, “Will we share it? Or will we remain quiet as we sit on the sidelines and mock the world for choices they make as they live in places of pain and disquiet?”

Will those yet to know Jesus in our world find a heart open, welcoming with love? What do our public posts say about who, or rather whose, we are? Or are we simply watching and commenting (read judging) from the place of smug self righteousness? We hold the key – what will we do with it? Will we lock others out, or swing wide the door to those who need Jesus? And, are we aware enough to even recognize those who are looking?

My journey towards recognizing Jesus Christ as my Lord and savior is traceable back to when I was four or five years old.

Born into an atheist (at best agnostic) family, I sought answers to questions beyond my age. Practising the violin as a little girl, I have the distinct memory of suddenly pondering death and what happened thereafter. Being brought up in a home that encouraged thoughtful questions, I put my violin down and sought answers from my father. Who else would I go to? After all, he was the fountain of truth in my little world. He alone held the wisdom my childish heart yearned for, and as a man who had committed his life to ponder life’s challenging mysteries, I felt certain he would know.

On hearing my question, he looked at me with all seriousness, and simply said,

“Your body dies. You are no longer here. You’re buried, and the worms eat you.”

I look back at this moment as an adult and realize it was a brutal answer, but in all my innocence I simply pondered further, and decided it could not be true. What, or rather, who led me to this deliberation? What, or rather who, helped me decide it was not true? I believe in this moment I encountered the living God. He led me to reject my father’s insight, and yet it would take me some time before I would recognize his presence in my life.

I can identify many such pivotal moments throughout my life. I have a clear memory of again, playing the violin in my bedroom as a teenager, and feeling something (or someone) enter my room. It came with a sense of overwhelming love and caused tears as I felt his gentle kindness, peace, and joy. I naively thought the music had moved me, so I tried playing the piece again. No matter how earnestly I tried, I could not muster the feeling again. I now know I encountered the one who is Love in that moment. The Holy Spirit was wooing me to Jesus. Sadly, what I needed was someone to lead me to him, to explain who Jesus was, but no one was there to answer my heart’s call. I was seeking in the right places, but no one was available to help me walk through the door.

At 12 years of age, the Gideons gave me a Bible. I tried to read it many times on my own, but to no avail. Over the years, I even asked various people to take me to church. I attended services of differing expressions with friends, but it would be many more years before someone would point the way to lead me home. I even prayed each night to the God I had not met for formally, asking for him to care for my family, those I loved, the hungry, the orphaned, the poor.

I was 19 when my father received a cancer diagnosis. Not long after, I recall attending a church service where a well-known biker preacher called John Smith (of the God Squad) spoke. Deeply moved, I went forward to the altar, wanting prayer for my father. I sobbed as I kneeled. It was a moment I can now describe as divine invitation, and yet not a soul in that church asked me if I knew Jesus. Instead, I kneeled with a stranger at the altar and asked God to heal my ill father.

And so, my search continued until, at 23, I came face to face with the One who is Love, and I said with passion,

“Yes, I do, yes I do, yes I do!”

I believe there are many more like me.

It was sad that so many blind believers surrounded me as a child. It was sadder still that so many judgemental Christians surrounded me in moments of great pain in my teen years. They pushed me aside, scorning my ways, failing to see my need, my hunger for answers. Broken, I needed help, not scorn. Desperate for love and acceptance, my heart broke many times. It seemed those who had the key to the door I had been searching for were blind to my search, or heartless towards my raw need of a savior.

So I now ask, at risk of looking like one of those judgemental ones,

“Can you see the ‘me’s’ in your world?”

“Can you see the little ones, looking for answers, railing against the world, desiring justice, authenticity and love?”

I encourage us all (myself included). Let’s pray and ask for a heart of love, for eyes to recognize, for ears to hear, the sounds of desire coming from those around us for the one true God. May we imbue love in such a way that people draw near us, rather than repelled by our stance against each other and the world. At no other time has there been a clearer call for loving Truth to be revealed. It does not require perfection from us, only a willingness to use the key we have in our hands and emerge from hiding to show the world, to let them taste and see that…

God is Good!

“But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere.” ~ 2 Corinthians 2:14

© Beth Kennedy 2024