Why Jesus?

As a little girl, I heard about Jesus. He died so I wouldn't go to hell. What four-year old wants to go to hell? Tell any four-year old about hell, and they will ask Oscar the Grouch into their heart if that's what it takes. And what did it mean to ask someone into your heart anyway?

As I grew, I heard that God expected those who had His Son in their hearts to act a certain way. I was really bad at it. I didn't pray; I didn't read my Bible --I didn't even want to do those things. What I wanted was to be liked, to fit in. Fitting in with my friends and being a Bible reader didn't seem to go together at all. If Jesus was in my heart, why wasn't He doing anything about it?

By adulthood, I'd given up. Multiple altar calls hadn't changed me. I figured I'd have to wait until I matured or got it all out of my system or something. But there was still that hell thing. Would God grant me time before I died to ask Jesus into my heart? Would He even be willing to come in after all the times I'd disappointed Him?

I was in my thirties when I had a "come to Jesus" moment. I was so sad, felt so rejected, had no direction. So, I said one of those "God, I've made such a mess of my life" prayers. I asked Him to take over. I did pretty well letting Him for a few days; but when my circumstances didn't change --in fact, they got worse --I gave up. It was back to leeks and onions for me. Or, at least, that's what I thought.

Ten years later, and life had gotten waaaay more complicated. But I had offered my life to God, I'd asked Him to change me, and He doesn't take those sorts of conversations lightly. Thank Him! He is faithful even when we are not. Friends "just happened" to recommended books that challenged me. Another friend committed to praying with me regularly. Local radio stations began to irritate my spirit, and I found myself listening instead to Christian radio: the preachers were "so different" from those of my childhood! I developed an appetite for reading the Bible and --better than that --it suddenly made sense! I was going to Christian counseling and Bible study. Little by little, the things I found so difficult to desire, to enjoy, to do when I was a child, were now the moments for which I lived. I wanted better for myself and my children; I wanted to live, where before I'd contemplated how not to. I needed Jesus in a way I never had before. 

We all need Jesus. He is the only way to heaven --like it or not. The message I heard as a little girl is as basic as it gets. Without Him, there is no access to the Father God or to heaven. Without Him the only remaining option is hell. But without Him there's also no reason to want heaven. Heaven is where God is; He is there with His Son whom we know as Jesus. Are there streets of gold? The Bible says there are. Gates made of pearl? The Bible says there are. But would you spend the rest of eternity with someone you have always hated, someone you've always rejected just so you could live in his swanky crib? No, but I don't want hell either. Well, my friend, then you have a choice, and no one can make it for you but you. Who will you serve? 

In serving Jesus, there is such a blessedness, such a growth, such a level of adventure. He has made my life better, richer, bigger. He has placed in my heart a love for others and a peace I could have never achieved on my own. I have vision and direction; a clarity of purpose I never had without Him. And, perhaps, there are those out there who can live better, richer, bigger without Him. Maybe there are those who love without Him and have peace all on their own. Maybe there are people who were just born with vision and purpose and fullness. But there's no one who can have a relationship with their Creator without Him. Though He is more than fire insurance, fire insurance is what we all need. By His grace, however, He grants and calls us to be more than policy holders. He allows us to steward His resources for His glory --not in a dehumanizing, sycophantic way, but in a way that completes us, allows us to be more fully who we were designed to be. So, why Jesus? Why not?