Just Imagine

I've been letting my imagination run wild again. Sorry, but . . .

Can you imagine walking down an old dusty road in the heat of summer with your best friend--and the last week of your life has been the worst week of your life. The great good thing that you were expecting to happen imploded. Depression grips your heart. Confusion, uncertainty. What do we do now? And suddenly a stranger falls into step with you and asks what's bothering you--your sadness is so palpable. A little irritated--how can he possibly not know what's been going on in Jerusalem lately--you explain to him your sorrows. Instantly, he starts going through the Old Testament, opening your eyes to the truth that the implosion was God's planned miracle of grace. It was eternally designed to happen that way. Joy overwhelms the sorrow. The stranger joins you for lunch, says the blessing, breaks you off a piece of bread, and . . . Danced on air right back to Jerusalem, don't you think? And wouldn't you love to have that conversation on tape: "Dusty Road Theology 101: Beginning in Genesis?" Or "The Implosions in Your Life are Grace Gifts."

Can you imagine? You're sitting in a room, weary from doing the work God has called you do. Alone. Dare I say depressed. To make matters worse, a young man you had been training to join you in the work, has just told you that he's leaving. "Forget it Paul. I'm going back to really live life! Forget this Jesus stuff." "Ah, Demas, my heart breaks for you. I'm all alone here, Lord. I know, you promise us that you're always with us. Sure feels like I'm alone, though, Lord." A knock at the door. "Titus, my good friend! Where did you come from? The work is prospering? Growing by leaps and bounds? Oh, Titus, so good to see you! What? Feeling lonely? Who me? Yes--I was. But we're never alone you know. He's always standing at the door, knocking." Feeling lonely? Say, is that a knock at the door? Do I hear your phone ringing? Well, look at that . . . a note in the mail. "Lo, I am with you, always."

Imagine you're a prisoner. Yeah, you brought in on yourself. Just got a letter from an old jailer friend in Philippi. He's discouraged--how could the Lord allow you be locked up? (And no Silas there to sing the melody.) How to encourage that church? The new guard walks in, shackles himself to your leg. Smirks, "I hope you're not expecting me to show you any mercy you old Jew." Ahhh---"no, my young Roman, I'm not. But I know this story all about mercy, can I share it with you? I mean, where are you going to go? All chained up like that. Me and you! All afternoon! Can I write a quick letter, first? Dear friend: My time here in prison is wonderful! Caesar's best soldiers are, like you and your family did, coming to find our Savior--and spreading the news throughout Nero's house." The worst of times for the believer is always an opportunity for the best of times. You do have a story to tell.

Imagine! You've just discovered that your great zeal for God was actually a violent rebellion against God! You've been attacking Him by persecuting His children. Blind fool! How can He ever use me for His service again? Why would He even want to? "Paul?" "Yes?" "My name is Ananias. God has an assignment for you. You won't believe what it is?" God's never met a failure that He couldn't use to do His marvelous work of redeeming a lost world.

Just imagine . . .