There are no little or big acts of obedience to God. There is simply obedience, or disobedience. I want to categorize things, grade myself on the curve, and gather my Systematic Theological Obedience Equations, but when I glance away from it all, I find Jesus yawning, moving on down the path, one hand fluttering quietly behind Him in my direction, beckoning me to drop what I’m doing and come along. He’s made it pretty clear: “I call you my friends, if you obey my commands.” He wasn’t merely referring to the Top 10 here- obedience is much greater than those- not in burden, but in breadth. “Love God like crazy, BAM- and love others like you do your selfies, BAM, BAM.” Jesus worded it a bit differently, so check it out in the E-Manual. And while you’re at it, take a life-long look, because love is a sticky business- not really feeling like love at all, and when it DOES feel like love, we’d prefer to be tied down with a bucket of earwigs poured on our heads than genuinely demonstrate it to THAT one [insert name of irritating in-laws, out-laws, or you-know-who, here]. Love doesn’t feel loving, for instance, when we discipline our children, knowing they’ll need it again in five minutes, for the next eighteen years. And love doesn’t feel like love when we stand for truth, because to the world, truth is so out-dated, but never in the retro-trendy sense. Oh- and what about this demonstration of love: To confidently speak the name of Jesus, rather than squirm and skirt with vague references to being “spiritual”. Some of us avoid mentioning the name Jesus, as if he’s our embarrassing little brother, sporting Mickey Mouse socks with his leather sandals. Most of the time, love is simply demonstrated in the minuscule: The unspoken forgivenesses to another- “unspoken” as defined by its Latin derivative form: “To shut up about it, already”. I know this: If I’m to going to follow His command to love today, someone must move over, make room, let go and surrender the Big, Important Whatever. Because to obey His command to love, someone must die. And that someone is me.
Published by Laura Cowan lauracowan.wordpress.com
Laura Cowan is a PMS survivor, along with her husband John, and their eight children. She adores her pastor who has counseled her through 44 years of marriage to himself. Together they enjoy quiet walks on the beach...Ha! Who are we kidding? We live on the backside of the desert. Thankfully, a very lovable flock of sheep live there, too, and let us pastor them (Calvary Chapel Bishop, California). Also, we spend a lot of time eating tiny bags of peanuts and missing connecting flights as missionaries with Poimen Ministries, whose goal is to encourage, aid, and support pastors, churches, and missionaries throughout non-larva eating parts of the world, mostly. Laura's most impressive identity rests in being a full-time beggar for grace. Not that Jesus makes her beg, it's just she’s such a piece of work. She’s managed to turn all this into fodder for conference themes and teaching in a variety of venues. Laura has published blurbs for the Chicago Sun, Sacramento Bee, and a few obscure magazines. View all posts by Laura Cowan lauracowan.wordpress.com