I Need Jesus
So it’s like this: I can’t function without Jesus. And I’m not being overly dramatic or hyperbolizing. I’m not even referring to the fact that since all creation was “created by Him and for Him” that I wouldn’t exist without Jesus. I just mean that I am an emotional basket case. I can’t love, can’t manage, can’t adult if I’m not letting Jesus love me.
I’m a fairly emotional, high-maintenance gal. And as amazing as he is, Paul cannot love me and manage all my emotional needs perfectly. We work from home together - BUT, since we have small children, we spend approximately 95% of our free non-sleeping time together trying to finish conversations we started earlier in the day (please reference working from home and small children).
And while I like to pretend otherwise, I know I’m a lot to handle. I have this inescapable need to know that I’m loved – like really, really loved… and wanted… and cherished – all the time. I get bored quickly, and tire easily post-babies. I don’t like to be uncomfortable or do things that scare me or make me feel awkward. More recently, I’ve been blessed with these two little giggly lives to manage and maintain, and sometimes (er, most of the time) they require more of me than I have to give.
So for a long time, I did my very best to hide all of that and be “enough” – strong enough, content enough, capable enough. Because in this era of feminism who wants to own up to that needy, angsty description?
But during a rather dark time several months ago, I heard Jesus say so very clearly to me, “Blessed are the poor in spirit. Come to Me all who are weary.” And I realized something:
Jesus knows how needy I am, and He loves me constantly.
Jesus knows how tired I am of feeling left out, and He includes me.
Jesus knows how badly I want to succeed, and He honors my efforts.
Jesus knows how clueless I feel teaching my sweet peas how to chew and swallow food and sleep at appropriate times and He says “they are fearfully and wonderfully made. Trust the process.”
Jesus knows how desperately I need to know that I am wanted, cherished, chosen, and He reaffirms His intense desire for me by the scars in His hands over and over again.
Y’all, Jesus knows.
We talk a lot at Not Easily Broken about love being about self-sacrifice, and I want to state clearly and for the record that I can only begin to love sacrificially by basking in the sacrifice of the One who loves me most. So I try to take 3 or 4 minutes every morning to revel in the fact that Jesus knows me, and chose me anyway. And I let that truth soak into my soul so that I can hopefully reflect that type of love back to the people I come in contact with. Whenever I can, I devote a whole chunk of time to exploring that love a little more fully, because in all my human neediness, I can only seem to retain reflection for so long.
Often in those times I can feel myself coming undone, and I risk letting my hot mess melt out all over my family, I know that I skipped my time with Jesus. I lock myself in my bathroom and open the Bible app on my phone. I soak His love into all my raw places, take a deep breath, and adult on.