…Indeed if we consider the unblushing promise of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.                              

-C.S. Lewis (The Weight of Glory) 


There is a tendency I find myself falling prey to on occasion.  It is the temptation to succumb to the misguided and hell-derived notion that I have to wait until the sun comes out again to enjoy my life—that I have to be miserable until I somehow miraculously get a set of six-pack-abs by doing a few piddly push-ups a day  (too much pasta for that to happen)—that I must settle for mediocre living (at the very best) until I can afford to get my bad tooth fixed—or that I can’t find satisfaction in simply trusting Jesus with all of my worries and tomorrows until I have all the answers lined up in some sort of neat little row. 

Waiting until I’m a perfect writer to share my gift with a stranger in need of water who is desperately thirsty is one sure-fire way to guarantee I’ll never begin at all. 

Jesus never said he came to bring us a full life when we got it all together—not until we straightened out our sorry living or cleaned up our sloppy act. He never hinted that some of us would be the unlucky ones or fall into the category of those less fortunate.  He didn’t spell out a secret code that only a handful of spiritually-minded intellectuals would be so smart to figure out that would simultaneously result in their being the ones to live a fairy-tale life riding off into the sunset with a trailer filled with gold hitched to their buggy—arm and arm with their trophy wife (or Mr. Wonderful for that matter)—while the rest of us were  subjected to staying at home as we mopped the floors, changed the diapers, and did the dishes. 

No—he didn’t say anything of the sort. 

 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.   (John 10:10, ESV)

Jesus was referring to those who know him in the context of the conversation he was having when he spoke those powerful words of life—not those who don’t know him.  The million dollar question always is—do you?  Because if you do know him, he never had anything less in mind for you. 

One word to the wise though—you can’t find that life anywhere else but in Jesus. 

And don’t fall victim to the seductive temptation that says you can.