[Originally written August 13, 2013]
I am sitting in the car with Jesus.
Car is an understatement. It’s a black Lamborghini.
When He picked me up this evening, I didn’t know it was Him at first. I expected Him to pull up in a dinky little beater…but tonight He is pulling out all of the stops for me and I don’t know what to do with myself.
The plush leather seats are delightfully comfortable and because He is driving, I feel like I don’t have a care in the world. Jesus looks very handsome in His tux and I am dressed up in a sparkling blue, green and gold sari that He gave me last night.
I don’t know where we are headed but it’s definitely someplace fancy.
He smirks a little at me when I ask Him and just shakes His head…not giving up the secret and keeping me in suspense.
I sigh and lean my head back against the soft headrest.
He reaches across the seat for my hands and envelopes my clammy appendages in His warm and gentle grasp. “It’s okay, Beloved,” He says in a soft voice. “Tonight is going to be beautiful.”
I give Him a wry smile. He knows me. He knows the worries and anxieties in my thoughts.
He knows how I struggle to trust Him even when He is right next to me.
Why do I have to be this way? Why can’t I just enjoy this ride and believe Him? I can feel in my being that tonight will be out of my comfort zone. Something in me just knows.
Jesus knows, too, but He’s my biggest supporter and He has set everything up, so I know He’s not going to let me stumble through whatever what is to come brings. He has set me up to flourish because that’s who He is and that’s what He does best.
But the unknown has always killed me…and I’m trying my hardest to rest, but I can’t do that well, either. It works for a second and then fades into frustration, questions, and tears. I don’t want to cry. Jesus doesn’t deserve that. He deserves my joy and a vast excitement for whatever He has for me.
I am overwhelmed and trying to act beyond myself and focus on Him…He is so handsome, so capable, such a sweet friend in every way.
He is my best friend. He is like my brother and He takes care of me like my Father. He knows my thoughts before I know them myself.
But it’s as if something, or someone, keeps tapping me on the shoulder and whispering doubts into my ear.
Thoughts of “What if?” and “He’ll leave you eventually” and “What if you turn around and He’s not there? What if you can’t see Him? What then?” cause me to problem solve in my head before I even know if it’s a legit problem. This is a good quality but it is being used in a bad way. It’s like I’m planning for that moment when Jesus will let me down, because He’s too engrossed in someone else.
Which I don’t realize can never be the case, because Jesus loves me way too much. I never feel so cherished as when I’m with Him.
But in that instant I let those doubts creep in just a little too much. The Lamborghini rumbles to a halt at a stoplight and I quickly grab my cell phone, open the door and step out, ignoring Jesus as He says, “Beloved, what are you doing?”
I stand on the sidewalk, looking into a park, and hear the car pull over to the side of the road, the tires crunching softly on the gravel road.
By this time I’m already on the phone, but I hear the driver’s door shut and know Jesus is behind me, as always, patiently waiting for me to turn around. I can’t do it yet. I have to get some clarification.
My friend answers and before she can say more than hello, I blurt out, “I don’t know what He’s doing. He won’t tell me. I don’t know what to do or what I’m supposed to do. I’m getting frustrated.”
I can feel I have pained Jesus behind me, but I keep my face toward the park, refusing to look at Him. My friend sighs on the phone, and quietly asks, “You know He loves you, right?”
I sigh in response as well. “Yeah, I know.”
“He wouldn’t do this on purpose unless this was something He is really excited about. He wants to surprise you. And you love surprises. Why are you having such a hard time with this?”
“I don’t know,” I respond, my stomach sinking. “I just have all these doubts. I don’t know why I have them, because they don’t make sense. I know Jesus’ character, I know He loves me, I know He has an amazing surprise in store, and I want to love the suspense, but it’s stressing me out. I think…I think it’s because somehow I know that this surprise is really important…that it’s going to affect my life and the course of it, and while that’s exciting, it also makes me really scared. I don’t know if I’m ready. But I’m so impatient and I want to know now so I can be prepared. But I also know that’s not how it works. I want to trust. I’m just scared.”
My friend simply says, “I think you answered your own questions. I’m going to let you and Jesus talk about it,” and hangs up the phone, leaving me, head bowed, feeling shameful and embarrassed.
That’s when I feel Jesus’ strong arms wrap me in an embrace from behind.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I just got scared. I know I don’t have any reason to be scared, but I did, and I’m sorry.”
He lays His head on top of mine because He is so tall, and He doesn’t say anything for a minute. Then He pulls my around to face Him and touches His finger to my nose in a loving, understanding and yet playful manner.
“I know, Beloved,” He says. “I’m right here and I always will be. I will always have an answer for you, and I always have the very best for you, but I won’t always tell you things beforehand, because I want to surprise you. You can’t know everything and you can’t ruin every surprise. Let me be a gentleman. Let me take you on this ride. Please trust me and let go and enjoy it. For me, okay?”
My eyes water because this guy loves me way too much – so much more than I feel I deserve, and yet He’s told me over and over and over again that I deserve every bit of His affection.
He’s crazy. I can’t accept that quite yet – but I know we need to move on – so I allow Him to hold my hand and usher me back to the car.
He opens the door for me and I climb back in.