Milka & Jesus

 I was standing in the food aisle of World Market with a childish grin on my face, I’m sure. In front of me were two shelves of Milka bars in various flavors and sizes. I had to resist the urge to reach out and caress each one while I decided if the price (three times that of back home) was worth it (which it was) and which ones to choose. After another several minutes, I finally made my selection and lovingly placed five bars in my basket, only to turn and find a short, masked lady watching me.

“Those must be really good,” she said with a chuckle. 

Embarrassed at the realization that I’d been blocking the aisle, I quickly moved aside, laughing nervously in response. “They remind me of home,” I explained. “In fact, the place I work is only 20 minutes from one of the Milka factories.”

“So, they are good?” She stepped forward and reached for my favorite flavor, the Noisette.

“Yes,” I said adamantly. 

“Thanks!” she placed three bars into her basket, and we parted ways, both eager to savor the lovely soft chocolate.

The encounter stuck with me though. Someone had seen me staring with joy at a product and had been intrigued enough to want to purchase the same item and try it out. And of course I believe she won’t be disappointed. In last week’s sermon, we were challenged to be the kind of believers who would live in such a way that those who don’t yet know Jesus would grow so curious at our obsession and our joy that they would want to come a step closer and find out for themselves what makes him so great. We are walking advertisements, in a way.

So I have to ask myself the question: Do I stare at Jesus as intently and lovingly as at a Milka bar from my home country? He's definitely more beautiful and more important. It’s something to strive for.

My obsession started a young age!

When Good Things will give way for the Best Thing

I read in a devotional that when we get to heaven, all "hurting, hoping, and helping will cease." I was on board through the word hurting - that is a rather well-known promise of heaven we all cling to, isn't it? But hoping and helping both took me by surprise. Aren't they good things? Isn't heaven full of good things?

It didn't take too long (just a conversation with Amanda) before I could see how hoping would cease. If heaven truly is full of every good thing, then all our dreams and hopes will be met. If they aren't, then those hopes probably weren't good for us, and being in the presence of Jesus will dissipate them. What we will be left with is an abundance of fulfilled satisfaction and an end to any lack; there will be nothing left to hope for.

It took me a bit longer to unpack the "helping will cease" part. I'm a 2 on the Enneagram, but you don't have to necessarily know what that means if you know me. I like helping people. In fact, I would even say I live to help people. Little else fills me with the contentment of a job well done or a purpose lived out than when people need me and I'm able to show up for them. I need to help people. It's a part of my identity, which I suppose gets to the not-so-good side of helping rather quickly.

Anything that consumes my identity other than Jesus will have to cease when I reach heaven. Even those things that are good here on earth (though I'd argue almost everything can be twisted and become a mixed bag), they will all pale in comparison to the best thing. Whether a spirit of helpfulness or a daring leadership quality or a contemplative shyness, the very best of ourselves will reach the end of the page, be rolled up, and set as a jewel in the crown of our King who will impart perfection onto us. Not so say any of the qualities I mentioned are pointless in the mean time, but I'm challenged by the realization that even the good things I hang my identity on will fade in the mist around the throne of God. I can't wait!

Looking toward that future glory with my nephew. :-)