Everybody, Always

Love isn’t something we fall into; love is someone we become.

How do we prove who we are

What I learned from our guide is I could either run fast or get to the top of the mountain. I couldn’t do both. We need to decide the same in our faith. It’s easy to confuse busyness with progress and accomplishments with pleasing Jesus. Every day we get to decide whether we’re really following Jesus or treating Him like He’s just a Sherpa carrying our stuff.

Our problem following Jesus is we’re trying to be a better version of us, rather than a more accurate reflection of Him.

Sometimes we wait for permission or a plan or a calling or a mystical sign from God before we get started. It could work that way, I suppose. What I’ve found, though, is when we’re looking for a plan, God often sends us a person.

He wants our hearts; He doesn’t care about the address where it happens.

People will figure out what we really believe by seeing what we actually do.

Jesus doesn’t need our help with the hungry or thirsty or sick or strange or naked or people in jails. I know this, because I asked Him. He wants our hearts. He lets us participate, if we’re willing, so we’ll learn more about how He feels about us and how He feels about the people we may have been avoiding.

When we dream up something where the outcome seems uncertain and we don’t hear God’s voice, what if God isn’t saying anything to us because He’s already said it?

It’s almost as if Jesus knew we’d invent excuses under the guise of waiting for His “plan,” so He made it simple for us. He said His plan for all of us was to love Him and then find people who are hungry or thirsty or who feel like strangers or are sick or don’t have clothes or are in prison or creep us out or are our enemies and go love them just like they were Him.