Jesus | A Plus Education Solutions

I would love to present myself as a close-to-perfect person with a close-to-perfect family. I know I can’t present myself, or my family, as completely perfect, because there was only one perfect person who ever lived. However, I can try to make you think that we’re close to perfect. Think about our Facebook pages and our blogs. We can make our lives look ideal, despite struggling through great difficulties (or just through the day-to-day challenges).

I’m not going to chronicle all of the adversity in my life, but I want to be clear when I say that I’m far from perfect and so is my family. I realize that you probably already know that, especially if you know us personally. Even if you don’t know us, you know we’re not close to perfect, because you and your family aren’t either.

Why, though, is it so difficult for us to admit this? Why do we put on masks for each other, pretending that everything is fabulous and that our families have it all together, even when we’re really struggling? (Isn’t this hypocrisy?)

We argue with our spouses and children in the car on the way to church, then step out with our Sunday smiles and tell everyone we’re fine. If our kids won’t behave or we have marital strife, we keep it all to ourselves, giving the impression that things are great in our homes. Why?

For many of us, it’s because we don’t want to be judged, and we suspect we would be. Maybe we have been in the past. Perhaps we’ve known of others who were open and who suffered for it. Our fear and our pride keep us from intimacy with other believers. I’ve heard it said that the Church is the only army that shoots its own wounded. Unfortunately, I’ve seen evidence that this is sometimes a true statement.

But …

What if we really viewed the church as a place for sinners and those redeemed by grace to gather and to authentically worship our great Savior?

What if we accepted everyone exactly as they are, acknowledging that we all need to grow to become more Christlike?

What if we didn’t judge by appearances, but took the time to examine the heart?

What if we didn’t judge by circumstances, but understood that there always are factors we don’t know about?

What if we openly accepted people who struggle, and helped them grow or recover?

What if we supported people who are victims of other people’s sin?

What if I could really tell you my struggles and my family’s struggles?

If so, then …

Couldn’t we help each other out?

Wouldn’t it be refreshing not to have to pretend?

Might our worship be more authentic?

Couldn’t we comfort each other?

Might others benefit from hearing of our own life experiences?

Might we benefit from hearing of their life experiences?

Couldn’t we hold each other accountable in a loving manner?

Wouldn’t we feel freer, lighter, more joyful?

And, most of all …

Wouldn’t we look a lot more like Jesus?

She listened with rapt attention as I shared the story–a story so familiar to me that I could recite it in my sleep, a story I generally take for granted, a story I’ve told countless times to far less enthralled audiences. She actively listened–inserting heartfelt “ooh,”s “really”s, and “no way”s throughout.

This was the story of my Savior’s sacrifice. A story I know so well that I have lost the wonder of it. Don’t get me wrong: I haven’t lost the joy or the appreciation of knowing that Jesus died for me to pay my debt and to purchase my eternity. But the wonder–I certainly don’t have the sense of wonder that little girl had.

At church events in America, it’s not often that you get to tell someone the Story for the very first time. Most people have heard it before, perhaps so many times that they could tell it flawlessly themselves without much wonder at all. But if this child , who was about nine years old, had heard the Good News before, she hadn’t gotten the message that it was commonplace, boring, or “old news.” To her it was fresh, and it was important. Even though all the other kids were sitting quietly and nodding their heads or being still, it didn’t occur to her to do anything but voice her questions and concerns. She couldn’t believe that people would treat Jesus like that or that He was willing to pay such a price.

It was refreshing to witness the response of someone who was hearing the Savior’s Story for the very first time. Shouldn’t we all have that kind of a response even if it’s the thousandth time? Because it’s a story full of wonder.