We have this anchor

Like a brand new crush, he weaves his way into all my conversations. Isn’t he incredible? What has he taught you today? You forgot to check in with him, too? Don’t worry, he’ll find a way to get you out. He will be with you to the end of an age.

This year, I have radically encountered the love of Jesus.

In middle school, when I zoned out in class, I would doodle boys’ names all over my notebooks, and lately, I want to doodle Jesus everywhere. Is that weird? Probably. His love though, it burns so deeply for us all, and the more my soul hungers for him, the more he fills me with thoughts, whispers, glimpses of him.

A few nights ago before I fell asleep, I opened my Bible App and glanced at the verse of the day. It was sort of a last ditch effort at giving Jesus a piece of my heart amid finals stress and complete exhaustion. And I stared at my screen for a good long while because what I found there was priceless. It was the kind of Jesus gold that you want to tattoo onto every blank space. It was Colossians 1 and this is what Jesus – our all powerful, never failing, wise, gracious Father – says:

The lines of purpose in your lives never grow slack, tightly tied as they are to your future in heaven, kept taught by hope.

Even when answers don’t come, Jesus reassures. I am there. I am your purpose.

I am guilty of using pithy Christian sayings, but I hate them. People always declare that when doors slam shut, God opens windows or makes new doors or remodels the whole metaphorical house. Here’s the thing, if God has the blueprint to our lives, then he, the master architect, has built us all of the right doors and we’ve been walking through them from the moment he first gave us breath. He does not slam doors in our faces. He is a loving Father. He simply keeps us from wandering into somebody else’s home. And when we become obsessed with what door to walk through next, he lifts the roof off of our building and nudges us to fix our gaze on his face. To stop moving altogether.

He also gives us strength to make it through the long haul…not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength…It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us.

I have rescued you from dead-end alleys and dark dungeons.

Jesus is euphoria. He is freedom from pessimism, anxiety, self-consciousness, jealousy.

We look at this son and see God’s original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels – everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him.

And that’s not all.

So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.

Just dwell on that for a moment.

Every single broken and dislocated piece of the universe – you and I and all of our dysfunction – is properly fixed and fit together. Jesus doesn’t just fix and fit it together though, he makes a vibrant harmony out of you.

At one time you all had your backs turned to God, thinking rebellious thoughts of him, giving him trouble every chance you got.

Maybe your back is still turned. But know that he gave himself completely at the Cross, actually dying for you…

This is the reassurance of hope that we have through talking to God, asking him questions, wrestling with him.

1 Colossians ends with this: Christ. No more, no less.

I have finally reached a place in my life where all roads begin with and lead to Jesus.

His name alone floods me with peace – and so I find myself asking, will you be enough? Can you be enough? Let you be enough for me. No more, no less.

Daily he reminds me that he is faithful, and he speaks the language of love over us.


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