And he asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Christ.” Mark 8:29 

Scripture does not say whether Jesus was sad as He asked His disciples this question, “Who do you say that I am?” He was God and understood spiritual blindness. He knew that spiritual eyesight is never completely cured on this earth. Only in heaven will we exclaim, “I never knew you were this glorious.” Or, “I never knew you loved me like this!”

In my ignorance, I can wonder how the disciples could have been blind. They had the advantage of having Jesus with them. They saw him heal leprosy, drive out spiritual oppression, and calm the seas. Yet, Jesus knew that spiritual blindness takes time to clear. It would only be sometime later, after the resurrection, that they would finally grasp His deity and give their lives to tell others about Him.

Just as people can be blind to Jesus, they can also be blind to Jesus in me. Believer, or unbeliever. The ones who struggled the most to see Jesus’ divinity were his own family. Likewise, those who know me best, and the longest, are often blind to the presence of Jesus in me. It’s the nature of hometown dynamics.

There may come a day when family and friends see His Light and take a step back. Just about the time I believe must accept being misunderstood, God will begin to clear the fog. It was He who allowed me to be concealed for a time and it is He who facilitates the unveiling. It’s as if they’ve never seen me before. Comments are taken seriously. Insights are valued. Company is sought after. I shake my head and wonder how this could happen after so many years.

If I live near others who don’t really see me, it’s not necessarily permanent. While I languish under invisibility, God is near. I am in God’s schoolroom where lessons abound. I remember the Old Testament scripture that says, “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter.” Proverbs 25:2 The period of others’ blindness is under the sovereignty of my Heavenly Father. While I am hidden to them, He ‘searches me and knows me.’ Though often rejected by them, ‘He calls me His and has me engraved on the palm of His hands.’

You change the hearts of kings and turn on the lights when it’s time. While I wait, give me the grace You received from Your Father as you walked out Your faith before those who knew You and loved You – and yet didn’t see You. No matter how painful, You are with me and I am known completely. Amen

All who ever came before me were thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them.  John 10:8

The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.  Luke 6:45

I often wonder how people can do what they do.  (That includes me when I sin.)

Consider a rebellious child who acts out.  Others can give into him to stop the tantrums.  But without discipline, he will repeat the tantrums until they become a way of life.  The pleasure (Jesus calls it pleasure) he feels when he gets what he wants will become his drug of choice and he will cease to regret the acts he commits in favor of feeling good.  Without Jesus, there will be no remorse.

If you’ve suffered at the hands of one who never said “I’m sorry,” you may have asked the question, “How could this person do this to me and not even feel badly that they hurt me?”  Jesus answers the question.  The pleasure they got by sinning against you numbed their conscience. They may have seen your tears, heard your pain expressed, but shrugged their shoulders.  You just couldn’t understand such coldness of heart and the heart is where everything else emanated.

God is our instructor today.  An unfeeling heart develops over time, never overnight.  It belongs to the person who has been fattened by the pleasures of his choices, even choices that have caused pain to someone he claims to love.

Only God can transform the heart of a sinner.  Only God can comfort the victims.  The sinner must love Jesus more than the payoff of self-gratification and the victim must love Jesus more than taking revenge.

Jesus, you knew the hearts of men.  You were not deceived.  Teach me to look beyond their behavior to the spiritual cause.  I need to pray for others’ spiritual disease instead of just asking you to stop their behavior.  Spirit, show me how to pray.  Amen

If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. I John 15:10-11

Sometimes, it’s not what people want that gets them into trouble. It’s when their desires, even noble ones, become the center of their lives and the source of their joy. Their wellbeing becomes dependent on whether or not those things come to pass. If they do, they can be happy. If they don’t, there’s frustration and spiritual depression.

As people of God, we dream of everyone we love embracing Jesus the way we do. We desire every family member to abide in Christ. We want sons to follow Jesus. We want daughters to thrive under the righteous leadership of their husbands. We want grandchildren to see God in their parents so they will be naturally attracted to their faith. We want family members to be healthy. We want parents to live a long life and fulfill all their dreams. All of these are good things but it’s easy to take on these dreams as our mandate to make them happen. We are crusaders on a mission. We invest our prayers, our love, our mentoring skills, even our finances, to help loved ones thrive. But the clock ticks slowly. People don’t change overnight, and while in process, they don’t always choose well. That’s bad news if we are making their wellbeing our joy. As they continue to languish, we languish. If we see them make bad choices, our joy is deferred as we pray that tomorrow will be a better day. And quite frankly, it’s easy to pray for everyone else and forget to pray for myself.

If this is my way of life, my joy is only possible if I see things moving in the right direction. On a good day, I can relax and enjoy feelings of hope in the moment. But at the next crisis, my hope plummets. Joy dies another death. I’m on a perpetual roller coaster of waiting for things to change. I’m a captive, not a conqueror.

The epiphany for me lately has been this. Whether or not I have inexpressible joy cannot depend on the outcome of things going well. Joy is to be found in the enjoyment of God. I was created to enjoy Him forever. And here’s the thing. Enjoyment of God and spiritual depression are mutually exclusive. I cannot engage in both at the same time. So when I wake up in the morning and my stomach churns because I don’t know what the day is going to bring, I’ve already laid a foundation for spiritual depression. I’ve placed my hope in human outcome.

My mornings need to be focused on the praise and worship of a God whom I enjoy. He is my delight. With Him as my focus and with a holy calm that is mine as a result, good news will be the icing on the cake. And if there’s bad news? It cannot take me down because His joy is my strength and the grace of His presence makes me resilient.

My hope has been deferred for a better tomorrow. Joy has been elusive. Show me how to appropriate all of this into my daily life until there are spiritual endorphines. Amen