How much do I love Jesus?

Clearly, not enough. It seems that some of you are still shaking yoru heads over my loyalty to this God who came to earth as a man and shed His blood to literally wash our sins away so that we can live and reign with Him forever.In the 20-month existence of this blog, I have somehow failed to make clear why Jesus is my all in all.

I have cited plenty of Scriptures explaining who Jesus is, how He got here, what He’s done for us, what He asks of us, and why He, above all other gods, is worthy of worship, love, and loyalty. I’ve posted videos and song lyrics to illustrate my points.

I guess it’s coming across as nothing more than words. Why, then, am I resorting to more words, I who despise the wordy Valentines professing their peculiarly sterile brand of “love”?

Because Jesus told me to.

That’s right, Jesus talks to me, and I am nobody (He talks to a lot of people, BTW). He talks to me because, after decades of His loving me while I thought He hated me and actively hated Him, I realized that I loved Him and had been looking for Him all my life. I decided, sometimes one minute at a time, that I loved Him so much that I would do His bidding no matter how tough it got.

He kept talking to me.

I kept asking Him questions, especially about the issues that I couldn’t lay to rest: a difficult, abusive childhood; failed relationships; unfulfilled wishes; calcified ideas that I’d adopted without considering their sources. Was I really to blame for all of it?

Jesus picked apart every lie I’d been told, every lie I was telling myself. He patiently explained, over and over again, that just because persecution is a constant of the Christian life, doesn’t mean that I deserve it. He showed me that the combination of bullying and pathological avoidance of responsibility that passes for parenting in my biological family has spread like a virus down through the generations.

The results? Relentless verbal and emotional abuse is answered with physical violence — never mind that toddlers are the traumatized witnesses who have had to be taught that police are only being helpful when they take Daddy away to cool off.

Yes, that’s me, former activist on behalf of abused women and children, empathizing wth a wife beater who’s done time for assault.

Another result of this family dysfunction? In the house where I’m staying the, um, lady of the house (she’s also the wife-beater’s mother-in-law), wears the pants with a vengeance. She picks through trash cans looking for evidence of wrongdoing. She stomps through the house bellowing like Rosie O’Donnell if she finds a crumb on the kitchen counter, if someone enjoys cooking that isn’t her own, if she has to cut her Facebook time short to shop for groceries. She has the other members of the household so terrified that they tattle on each other to escape her wrath.

This includes her own husband, who ceded his God-given role as head of the household to her long ago.

What about forgiveness?

Jesus and I have extended it time and time again, but these people have rebuffed it, refused repentance, and dug in their heels every time, Jesus says. He says they are so fully committed to Satan that they renew their vows to him every morning.

If Jesus is not in a forgiving mood, He tells me I’d better not be, either if I don’t want to go against Him, a necessary mindset for those times I’m called to blog about their wrongdoing. Yes, Jesus has punished them severely. No, they haven’t repented.

Jesus showed me all of this. He showed me that God’s laws aren’t just pointless, outdated rules, they’re a design for living that only causes pain and destruction when we refuse to follow it.

No other god ever did this for me, and I’ve worshiped plenty: school chums, teachers, boyfriends, mentors, the Tarot, astrology, the Enneagram, pop psychology, popular (as opposed to radical) feminism, and — out of ignorance and fear — the off-brand, cafeteria-style, Jesus-less “Christian” cult in which I was raised.

Those gods all told me that the blame rested with me and contemporary society’s “villains”. Those gods told me I was bad, wrong, defective, and could never be healed.

Jesus loved me. He loves me now and forever. I know this because He’s shown me time and again.

Jesus gave me the peach that passes all understanding by showing me that His laws, and His alone, work. He showed me how they work and why they work. He showed me that, no matter how crazy and dangerous my environment gets, th is a right way, and He is that Way. All the screaming the gossip, the suspicion, the blame-placing are the fault of the perpetrators, and theirs alone.

Does that make me perfect? No. And you know what? When I screw up, as long as I take it to Jesus in prayer, as long as I keep those lines of communication open, He will forgive me, help me understand more about why I’m wrong, and how to do things right in the future. No silent treatment, no screaming, no cheap shots, no mind games — just firm, loving, straightforward correction, instruction, and healing.

That kind of love makes me want to be more like Him, lo love, forgive and forget when I am wronged, but also to be honest and unsparing when He asks me to warn people through this blog.

Tonight Jesus has asked me not to talk about why the Bible says to love Him, but why I love Him. Except for this post, not a word goes in this space that the Spirit hasn’t whispered in my ear, and that’s another reason I love Jesus. I have skills, but knowing what to say in this space is not one of them. When Jesus asks me to do something, He always gives me the means to do it. He always understands the difficulties because He never asks me to do something He hasn’t done Himself.

No one — no other human, no other god — has done these things for me, much less made me want to do them for anyone else.

That said, I feel inadequate to persuade anyone who doesn’t want to be persuaded. If you’ve experienced Him, you don’t need proof. If you haven’t, all the proof in the world won’t do.

I took a leap of faith. I reached out to Him in prayer, and He came to me right away. I experienced Him. I believe Him. I love Him more and more every day because He’s never left me. I love Him because He loves me through His actions, simple as that. So, no pix, graphics, or videos, no color. Jesus is enough.