This two week blogging hiatus is my longest in years. Strangely, it should have been my most prolific writing season in memory. The explosion of ideas and images and truths and transformation occurring in my head and heart of late, threaten to unravel me. But, alas, I can't get a single coherent thought on a page. I got nothin.
Photo Credit: Network Osaka
I'm prone to pondering things aloud or in writing. But this recent onslaught requires a different approach. Untangling the current mess of fragmented content in my brain is like the delicate task of un-merging my conjoined clump of necklaces. It seems best accomplished slowly, deliberately, in quietness. So I'm in a season of pondering things in my heart--and getting reacquainted with Jesus.
Not the cross, or the gospel or the Christianized Jesus--the historical, flesh and blood person who walked around and got blisters on his feet and experienced hunger and exhaustion and loneliness. I'm spending this Lenten season imagining myself in Palestine during his life on earth. As I read the book of Matthew, I'm putting myself in it.
Why? You ask. Because I've come to realize that I barely know him and that I'm both drawn to and terrified of him. He's so unpredictable and wild and I'm a Pharisee.
Right now, I'm following him at a distance. I'm part of the crowd, intrigued by his unorthodox pick of disciples and amazed at his healing power. But today, he looked at me. In the whole crowd his gaze found ME! I felt the most complete love and full terror simultaneously. I didn't move.
Tomorrow I'll go and see him again. I've got nothing to say, but he doesn't seem to mind.
Kelli is a writer, speaker and consultant equipping leaders for a deepening intimacy with Christ, greater impact in ministry and more effective intentionality in all of life.
Book Kelli for your next event or retreat.
Find Out More >>