About two months ago (fall of 2011), I started going to this Bible study on Monday nights. I liked it. Actually, I kind of loved it. We read through scriptures together every week and discussed them. One of the chapters we have read through is Matthew 26 where Jesus is in the Garden of Gethsemane. As we read through the passage, I felt like I found a thousand new golden nuggets that I have never found before. One of these has been pretty life-changing.
“And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee and began to be grieved and distressed. Then He said to them, ‘My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death; remain here and keep watch with Me.’”
The thing I have always loved about the story of Jesus in the garden is how human I realize Jesus really is. I am convinced it is His most human moment in all of the gospels. So what does Jesus do in His most human moment? He asked for COMMUNITY! He asked Peter, John, and James to sit in the middle of His deepest hurt with Him. Yup. He asked for help.
Let’s look at this moment. Jesus says straight up, His soul is grieved to the point of death. Death. DEATH. A place where there is no joy, no peace, no comfort. He is hurting and asking His most intimate friends to sit with Him in that hurt. Jesus was willing to be vulnerable in His greatest moment of need to live in community. Not only to love but to be loved.
I never want to do this. I never want to let someone into my deep hurt or disappointment. I want to be strong, do it alone, and not risk being vulnerable. I want to carry my own burden. Like I’ve said before I am emotionally awkward. Exposing that is dangerous. I mean what would my friends do if they saw the reality of how dramatic, needy, insecure, and just plain weird I am. The truth is they probably see those things. But seriously. People can’t know I hurt or I am broken or even WANT them with me in the middle of my deep hurt. I mean if they knew, they would have power over me. I can’t have that.
You see. My deepest fear is that I will admit that I want someone to be that intimately connected to me and then they will reject me. I am afraid that when they see how terribly messed up I am, I will be TOO MUCH, and they will turn and walk away.
So as I read through this passage again I felt God say to me, “Mindy, open the gate. Let people into the garden with you. Some will leave, and I will love you. Some will stay, and I will love you. Just let people in. It’s what you were made to do.”
So as a community of people who live on the same planet, I ask that you will hold me accountable. That you will challenge me to open the gate, share my story, love well, and allow myself to be loved well in return.
What about you? Any troubles with letting people in? Is love easy for you to receive? Let’s talk about it.
In Reckless Pursuit,