I Have Decided to Follow Jesus
"Do you know where my mama's at?" Apparently this is the quote I was known for when I was just barely old enough to talk, for good reason. I have had this lifelong anxiety about being separated from my family.
I've always felt completely confident to go anywhere or do anything as long as there's a family member with me. I'll bet there's a 'phobia' just for this. I'm googling it right now.
*Cue annoying elevator music.*
Wow. Okay, here's a direct quote from childrenshospital.org: "Many kids struggle with a specific fear of being physically separated from their parents or other family members. This is known as separation anxiety disorder (SAD)." That's it! That's exactly how I've always felt.
I don't really know why. I've thought about it a lot.
Maybe it's because I'm essentially a shy person, an introvert. I know some of you are snorting with laughter right now because you're thinking there's no way I can be, but it's true. It's all about where you draw your energy. I love parties, but when it's over, I always feel tired. I have friends, on the other hand, that act like they've just had ten Red Bulls after a party. Those would be the genuine extroverts.
Maybe it's because I have this big, loud, loving family. I can honestly remember the first time I ever rode in a car alone. I set out for a dermatologist's appointment in Tupelo, MS, and something felt really weird. Then I realized it was because nobody was in the car with me! I was seventeen. There's a first time for everything.
It took me the longest time as a little girl to be able to spend the night at a friend's house. I always wanted to go, but somehow when bed time came, I notoriously freaked out. There I'd be in the dark with the fun distractions of play over for the day, and I'd start thinking about my family (usually just a few minutes away) in their beds going to sleep. I'd be overcome with this overwhelming fear and sadness. What if I never saw them again? What if something important happened, and I wasn't there? What if they needed me, but I was sleeping somewhere else completely unaware of the crisis at home? Of course my friends and their parents always valiantly tried to comfort me and give me logical reasons that these fears were unfounded.
But -- I just couldn't let it go. Inevitably, my parents would have to come pick me up in the middle of the night. I always felt guilty and terrible about it, but as soon as I saw my parents, I felt as if fifteen cement suitcases were lifted off my chest.
In high school, unlike other teens, I didn't really rebel all that much. My anxiety took on a new face. Soon I'd be going to college, so I consciously savored the time I had with my family. I remember waking up one Saturday morning, my room was right next to the kitchen, hearing my dad making breakfast singing a made up song while my brothers bickered about something. I could hear my mom's muffled voice; she was saying something to my sister. Instead of being annoyed that they woke me up, I smiled. I told myself, "Remember this. This is what goodness is. This is home." I'm glad I knew that then.
Over the years I've learned to cope much better. Now instead of crippling hysteria, I just feel a little bit sad about not seeing my family enough, which is good since I live hundreds of miles away from them these days. If you asked me to make a list of things I'd like to change about my life, I think living closer to my family would probably be the very first thing I'd write down.
When we talk and I tell them I miss them, I always feel the echo of that childhood phobia deep inside. In some ways it feels that the fear isn't as irrational as everyone always made it out to be because now I am separated from them, and it's pretty miserable sometimes. (My inner child screams -- See! Just like I always said!)
In all fairness, it's been good for me. I've gotten tougher and am proud of myself for being as independent as I am now. It's also given me compassion for other people and their sorrows. There's no way my life could be where it is now if I hadn't been willing to step out in faith, accepting that seeing my family every day isn't always going to be an option.
Whenever I miss my family, I can't help but think about something Jesus said.
Lately it's come to my attention that Jesus asks us to do a lot of radical things. If you've been brought up in a generally Christian environment, like I have, I think the radical nature of following Christ can get lost in the familiar.
I was listening to this really great Audrey Assad song the other day, and a lightning bolt hit my brain. It's called "No Turning Back" and is a reinvention of the song "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus." I don't know about you, but I've sung that devotional song more times than I can count. If you'd asked me if I meant it, I would have said, "You bet!" every time.
Now, I wonder if I've really understood what it meant. Would I really follow if "none go with me"? What if my family was included in that 'none'?
I have this unsettling feeling that truly following Jesus is going to get more difficult for me sooner rather than later. I actually think all of us are going to face some tough times ahead when staying true to our Lord is going have a heavy price. It already does for many of our brothers and sisters around the globe.
I've been re-reading The Chronicles of Narnia in the last couple of weeks. In Prince Caspian, there's this scene when the four kids are trying to find their way back to Caspian's encampment. Lucy, my favorite, sees Aslan in the distance showing them the way. (In case you don't know, Aslan represents Jesus in the stories.) She tries to convince the others to follow Aslan, but they can't see him. So they all blunder around in the woods, not getting anywhere. Finally that night Aslan calls Lucy, and they have a little chat.
In real life, it isn't always that obvious, but the idea is the same. Am I willing to follow anywhere Christ leads no matter the cost? I hardly know. I hope so. I want to but am afraid I'll wimp out when I'm in the moment. I'm praying every day that I'll have the strength to rise to the challenge when it comes, and I'm praying the same thing for you, too.
I know that I have to be willing to follow Jesus even if every one I know refuses. After all, like Lucy said, if he's there with me, I won't really be alone.
I've always felt completely confident to go anywhere or do anything as long as there's a family member with me. I'll bet there's a 'phobia' just for this. I'm googling it right now.
*Cue annoying elevator music.*
Wow. Okay, here's a direct quote from childrenshospital.org: "Many kids struggle with a specific fear of being physically separated from their parents or other family members. This is known as separation anxiety disorder (SAD)." That's it! That's exactly how I've always felt.
I don't really know why. I've thought about it a lot.
Maybe it's because I'm essentially a shy person, an introvert. I know some of you are snorting with laughter right now because you're thinking there's no way I can be, but it's true. It's all about where you draw your energy. I love parties, but when it's over, I always feel tired. I have friends, on the other hand, that act like they've just had ten Red Bulls after a party. Those would be the genuine extroverts.
Maybe it's because I have this big, loud, loving family. I can honestly remember the first time I ever rode in a car alone. I set out for a dermatologist's appointment in Tupelo, MS, and something felt really weird. Then I realized it was because nobody was in the car with me! I was seventeen. There's a first time for everything.
It took me the longest time as a little girl to be able to spend the night at a friend's house. I always wanted to go, but somehow when bed time came, I notoriously freaked out. There I'd be in the dark with the fun distractions of play over for the day, and I'd start thinking about my family (usually just a few minutes away) in their beds going to sleep. I'd be overcome with this overwhelming fear and sadness. What if I never saw them again? What if something important happened, and I wasn't there? What if they needed me, but I was sleeping somewhere else completely unaware of the crisis at home? Of course my friends and their parents always valiantly tried to comfort me and give me logical reasons that these fears were unfounded.
But -- I just couldn't let it go. Inevitably, my parents would have to come pick me up in the middle of the night. I always felt guilty and terrible about it, but as soon as I saw my parents, I felt as if fifteen cement suitcases were lifted off my chest.
In high school, unlike other teens, I didn't really rebel all that much. My anxiety took on a new face. Soon I'd be going to college, so I consciously savored the time I had with my family. I remember waking up one Saturday morning, my room was right next to the kitchen, hearing my dad making breakfast singing a made up song while my brothers bickered about something. I could hear my mom's muffled voice; she was saying something to my sister. Instead of being annoyed that they woke me up, I smiled. I told myself, "Remember this. This is what goodness is. This is home." I'm glad I knew that then.
Over the years I've learned to cope much better. Now instead of crippling hysteria, I just feel a little bit sad about not seeing my family enough, which is good since I live hundreds of miles away from them these days. If you asked me to make a list of things I'd like to change about my life, I think living closer to my family would probably be the very first thing I'd write down.
When we talk and I tell them I miss them, I always feel the echo of that childhood phobia deep inside. In some ways it feels that the fear isn't as irrational as everyone always made it out to be because now I am separated from them, and it's pretty miserable sometimes. (My inner child screams -- See! Just like I always said!)
In all fairness, it's been good for me. I've gotten tougher and am proud of myself for being as independent as I am now. It's also given me compassion for other people and their sorrows. There's no way my life could be where it is now if I hadn't been willing to step out in faith, accepting that seeing my family every day isn't always going to be an option.
Whenever I miss my family, I can't help but think about something Jesus said.
He who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of Me. And he who loves a son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me. And he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me. He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it. (Matt.10:37-39 NKJV)To me he's saying, "Know how much you love your family? Well, you've got to love me even more than that." Needless to say that kind of statement really speaks to me because I really love my family.
Lately it's come to my attention that Jesus asks us to do a lot of radical things. If you've been brought up in a generally Christian environment, like I have, I think the radical nature of following Christ can get lost in the familiar.
I was listening to this really great Audrey Assad song the other day, and a lightning bolt hit my brain. It's called "No Turning Back" and is a reinvention of the song "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus." I don't know about you, but I've sung that devotional song more times than I can count. If you'd asked me if I meant it, I would have said, "You bet!" every time.
Now, I wonder if I've really understood what it meant. Would I really follow if "none go with me"? What if my family was included in that 'none'?
I have this unsettling feeling that truly following Jesus is going to get more difficult for me sooner rather than later. I actually think all of us are going to face some tough times ahead when staying true to our Lord is going have a heavy price. It already does for many of our brothers and sisters around the globe.
I've been re-reading The Chronicles of Narnia in the last couple of weeks. In Prince Caspian, there's this scene when the four kids are trying to find their way back to Caspian's encampment. Lucy, my favorite, sees Aslan in the distance showing them the way. (In case you don't know, Aslan represents Jesus in the stories.) She tries to convince the others to follow Aslan, but they can't see him. So they all blunder around in the woods, not getting anywhere. Finally that night Aslan calls Lucy, and they have a little chat.
"[...] I couldn't have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I? Don't look at me like that. . . oh, well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn't have been alone, I know, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?" [...]
"If you go back to the others now, and wake them up; and tell them you have seen me again; and that you must all get up at once and follow me -- what will happen? There is only one way of finding out."
"Do you mean that is what you want me to do?" gasped Lucy.
"Yes, little one," said Aslan.
"Will the others see you too?" asked Lucy.
"Certainly not at first," said Aslan. "Later on, it depends."
"But they won't believe me!" said Lucy.
"It doesn't matter," said Aslan.Of course, in the story Lucy eventually convinces her brothers and sister to trust her enough to follow, although they can't see Aslan at first. In the end, Aslan leads them safely to Caspian's camp and helps them win a victory over their enemy, the evil king.
In real life, it isn't always that obvious, but the idea is the same. Am I willing to follow anywhere Christ leads no matter the cost? I hardly know. I hope so. I want to but am afraid I'll wimp out when I'm in the moment. I'm praying every day that I'll have the strength to rise to the challenge when it comes, and I'm praying the same thing for you, too.
I know that I have to be willing to follow Jesus even if every one I know refuses. After all, like Lucy said, if he's there with me, I won't really be alone.
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