Being a comforter by way of the Comforter

I think we all come to a point in our walk with Christ when we get it. We understand that He is everything and all, and life without Him is insufferable. We don't want to wake up without the Carpenter. We don't want to exist in a world without the opportunity for redemption and grace to overtake us. We don't want to walk around without worship constantly written on our lips, but not only that, it seems impossible to do so. We are so changed and changing so much, that it becomes hard to remember who we used to be or could be without Him. Everything else pales in comparison to His proposal. We want nothing more than to be the bride of Christ.
I'm there now.
I woke up this morning, and before I rolled out of bed I thought,
I am so uninterested in a life without my Savior. 
There is a part in the beginning of "Pilgrim's Progress" when Christian turns from his family because he cannot convince them to come with him. And he leaves them, saying, "Life! Life! Eternal life!" as if it's something that could replace them, or was worth more than them. I always had trouble with that. It's hard for me to imagine turning away from my family. Leaving them behind because I have inadequate words to convince them of the truth. It just never settled with me, the idea of walking away from those dearest to my heart for something that so many people doubt and is so fantastic that it requires increasing amounts of faith daily.
Now it's different.
The Lord will slowly overtake you. He ruptures small pieces of your heart and soul, and fills them with Himself, but He does it subtly. So subtly that sometimes you don't even notice, until one day you wake up and want nothing but Him. Till one morning you realize that you would deny yourself anything to be His. The cost is great, but it becomes less and less as you sell yourself to Him more and more.

It's almost five years ago now that I sat in a church I hated, but now love, on a Resurrection Sunday. My pastor told the story of how Christ died for us, and then he said,
You owe Him everything. You could live a hundred times over, and still not deserve what He's done for you. So we ought to at least give Him our short existences. He calls for at least that.
And I cringed in my seat as he said the next part. I can still remember my fists getting tight and the way my stomach began to hurt.
If you're life isn't all about Jesus, you may want to rethink where you stand with Him. It is necessary that you sacrifice everything else for Him. He should be the greatest thing, He should be your all.
He wasn't that to me, back then. I sat in that church and I could think of many things to add to the phrase, "Jesus and..."
Jesus and my family.
Jesus and school.
Jesus and books.
Jesus and friends.
Jesus and a big house.
Jesus and success.
Jesus and victories.
Jesus and perfection.
Jesus and understanding.
Jesus and a future husband.
Jesus and everything I wanted, could want, and will want.
I was so uninterested in a life that was only about Jesus. It gave me knots in my gut and my chest got tight as I tried to think about Him being the most important and only thing in my life. It seemed impossible. I couldn't fathom it without feeling sick.

I've noticed that I do things slowly. I learned to love the things I love over a long period of time. I fell into friendship with Kirsten over a number of years and letters. I grew in faith through days and weeks and months. I changed who I am, little by little, part by part, piece by piece. I acquired a taste for coffee over the course of a summer. I accumulated a tiny library of my own, book after book after book.
And softly, gently, without my knowledge, Christ drew me to His side and by the time I noticed, I was far removed from this earth and enraptured with Him in a manner that renders me able to leave all this behind without qualms or regrets.
I am so incredibly small now.

This year has been really hard. Some things are so heavy in this life. I haven't experienced many of them personally, but recently a few have come close to my heart, and I've noticed more and more how much my friends have experienced loss and pain and suffering.
I have to confess to you, I don't know what to say to people anymore. I don't even know how to write things that might matter to them, or comfort them. I don't know how to be there. And I want to. I want to be present and impactful and kind and gentle. I want to be in their lives in a way that is something they need, a sweet spirit, a shoulder, a strong back. I've spent so many nights on my knees because of this. It's eating at me. It hurts sometimes, how unsure I am, how difficult it is to open my mouth. Because this is a new desire for me. I think this is a season of big things, and suddenly I've uncovered in my heart the yearning to say what needs to be said. Not just to listen to people, but to speak life and peace and hope into them.
It's so hard.
But as Jesus has become more apparent to me in all things, as He has enveloped me more in His arms, I find that I don't need to do those things, nor do I have to worry about those things. He is sufficient. When it's not "Jesus and..." but just "Jesus," you only have to have faith that He will speak for you. Because your heart is His. It's what He wants to say, and what He wants to say is never wrong. It is intentional and beautiful. It is right, always right. It is perfect.
I try too hard.
I get in the way.
But I am learning not only to be tiny, but to be still as well, and to let Him be there by me and oftentimes in the place of me.

I am nothing incredible without the Carpenter. Nothing at all. Not next to nothing, not partly something, not a little bit of this.
I am nothing without Him.
And I want nothing to do with anything that has nothing to do with Him. I am running from everything, my hands over my ears, and I am shouting, Life, eternal life! Because it makes sense now. I get it now. And I am confident that through these hardships and trials, He is growing me in a new way and something big will come of this. Something of Him.
I have faith that while I feel inadequate and unprepared for what my heart is burning to do, He will take hold of my hand, He will move my pen, He will put the words in my mouth. I have confidence in that. I believe that. I need to believe that.
Because I need you all to know.
I want to be His representative.
I want to be used.
I want to be a vessel.
I want to be salt.

I want to be a comforter.

As I become more His and He becomes more mine, I see how to do that. And it begins with "Jesus."
That's all.
Him, alone.

Impractical and Hard

Be impractical. 
I left this last weekend with those words. No one actually said them. No one even implied them. In fact, quite the opposite. People preached otherwise almost. But the thing is, something needs to change.
We need to be impractical. We need to do hard things.
That was my second thought.
Do hard things.
I've heard it so many times in my life. People I listen to preach it constantly. I've seen people do them, those hard things. But the truth is, until you hear a story that resonates in the very center of your heart in a way that crushes everything you ever hoped about the people you know, and you know that they messed up, you will never actually understand what it means to do hard things. Hard things are hard. Can you just think about that for a second? Please. Hard things are hard. They are scary. They are difficult. They take effort. They are impractical. They might even be dangerous. Hard things are hard.
But we're still supposed to do them.

I spent the other day in the kitchen, my hands pressed into the soft dough for brioche pretzels, and I thought about the gospel.
The gospel is a hard thing.
It is impractical. Sometimes it takes time to preach it. Because the gospel is not just words. It is action. It's true that Jesus saves souls. I cannot save someone's soul. I can't do that. It's impossible for me. I can't even convince someone to be saved. Jesus saves souls.
Jesus changes hearts.
But we're supposed to change lives.
I think it is hard for people to get that concept. We want to be good Christians in comfortable houses with white walls and dutch ovens and nice dinner parties with the church family over constantly and read easy books like Ephesians because that book applies to us here and now with our petty problems and not dirt. But there are other books of the Bible. Job and Hosea exist too. Hard lives exist too.
I don't want a lazy gospel. I said that as I pulled and twisted my pretzels and pressed chocolate into them. And it was hard for me to admit that. Because I like comfort. I like warmth and good food and joy and singing and things.
I don't always like dirt, but I don't want a lazy gospel.
I want the real gospel. The living, breathing, heart beating, aching, suffering gospel of Jesus Christ who changes the hearts but gave me the hands and voice and feet and ability to change the lives.
I want the hard gospel.
The real one.

I want to be impractical.

And never, never will I preach the word of Jesus Christ to someone and leave them in despair after.
That is a false gospel.
That is wrong.

Philippians 4:13

I am going to finish some easy things now, namely painting. But these will prepare me for the hard ones someday.