Jesus feels like home.

I wish I could say that this statement were true all the time. Sometimes I don’t miss Jesus at all.

This is something that I’m learning. I’m learning that I can be honest with Jesus. I can go about life in such a way that I don’t feel like the guiltiest guy on earth for not doing devotions in the morning. Now, I’m not minimizing the importance of going deep into the Bible to learn more and more about Him, but I’m learning that all people are different and therefore get more fulfillment in their relationship with Jesus by doing very different things with Him. For me, sometimes I like to dance before Him. Sometimes I like to sing for Him. Sometimes I read to Him. (It’s pretty funny when I read the Bible to Him cause I’m reading words that He said Himself). And those aren’t the only ways that I enjoy spending time with Jesus.

Sometimes (like right now), I find it comical how hard I am on myself for not spending time with Him. Cause all I’m really doing is smothering myself in self-pity (what?!) and self-guilt (huh?!), when I could be using that time to go to Jesus. Interesting thing, the human brain. Absolute nonsense is what that is.

However, what all of this nonsense has caused in my thoughts is something I am very grateful for.

It has caused me to believe that Jesus is stupid.

Now, before you grab your pitchforks, hear me out. There is an addendum.

So, here’s the process:

1. Jesus loves me, so much so, that He dies for me to actualize that love

2. I am a sinner, and I don’t deserve Jesus’ love

3. He dies regardless of my ability to actualize my love for Him in return

4. I, hopeless human that I am, fail to actualize my love for Him (which He knew would happen)

5. He, perfect savior that He is, STILL loves me regardless

Conclusion: Jesus is stupid.

But… one only comes to that conclusion if one doesn’t understand the depths of love that Jesus has for us.

Result: I fall more in love with Jesus.

I don’t understand Jesus. I don’t think I ever will, and that’s ok with me. I understand just enough. I understand that He loves me with the kind of love that I can’t live without.

Now, I enjoy the small things in life immensely. A cup of tea with friends. A cup of coffee by myself. Some tunes just before sleepy time. Soft sunlight through an open window. The feeling of the air on my face after a rain. Lazy afternoons. Checking the last thing off the list. Simultaneously writing and falling in love with a new song. Cuddling up under a blanket that just came out of the dryer. Long talks about Jesus’ insane love for us.

And because of that not quite so little thing at the end, I think I’ve finally figured out that all of those little things are infinitely sweeter when I invite Jesus to come along. It’s not so good a thing when I don’t invite Him because He created it. Doing all of these things with Jesus is like reading Till We Have Faces with C. S. Lewis sitting across from us; or jamming with Les Paul on some electric guitars; or belting Bohemian Rhapsody with Queen. There’s something about fellowship with Jesus that makes everything else better. He makes everything sweeter.

Yet I’m still me. And me is full of emotionalism and dramatization and all around changeableness. But either Jesus is stupid (He’s not) or He’s aware of this because He plows on ahead and cares about me anyway. A very interesting person, this Jesus.

And I’m so grateful. My lack is covered by Jesus.

Here’s the thing. I’m far from perfect and I can’t love Jesus like He loves me. This is my reality. But Jesus is part of my reality too.

I’m real.

But so is He.