Across
nearly 38 years of ministry, I have never seen, both inside and outside the
church, more restless seeking than I see just now.  People are on a quest for something, for
someone, higher, holier and more beautiful than they have yet encountered.  

They—we—are
looking for bedrock truth on which to build a stable life, a life that doesn’t
crumble in crisis.
We
want reasons to live that are more meaningful than being consumed by
consumption; we don’t want our lives to be little more than decades of earning
and spending, working and worrying, climbing the ladder or failing to climb
it. 
We’re
searching for ways to make a difference in our troubled world, to overcome the
temptations of apathy and indifference, and to leave things better than we
found them. 
Most
of all, we’re yearning for acceptance and love—to be known, understood, and
welcomed.
The
best response I have to all this seeking, questing, searching, and yearning is
Jesus.  From my own experience, I know
him to be the bright star which rises in a dark night. He is the way and the
goal of the journey.  He’s the road to
home and home itself. 
God’s
glory shines from Jesus’ human face. God’s wonder pulses in the story of his
life, death, and resurrection. God’s compassion touches us in his mercy; and
God’s forgiveness restores us in his grace. 
Jesus reveals love to be the heart of God’s heart, and he calls us to
live for nothing less and nothing other than love: love for God, love for
neighbor, and love for self.  
Jesus
welcomes all of us. He cherishes every one of us.  He knows us, understands us, and loves us.  And, he transforms us into people who can
know, understand, love and embrace one another.
Jesus
doesn’t need for me to judge people. In fact, he forbids me to do it, because
he knows that I don’t know enough about anyone else’s strengths and struggles,
limits and possibilities, hurts and hopes to judge what they’ve done or failed
to do. 
Besides,
I’ve got more than enough to do, tending to my own shortcomings and weaknesses.
Jesus
doesn’t ask me to fix or change other people either.
As a friend of Anne Lamott’s said to her: “Three things I cannot
change are the past, the truth, and you.” 
(Help, Thanks, Wow, 31). 
I’m not capable of converting, changing, or
transforming another person.  That’s the
work of the Spirit, not my work, and the Spirit knows how people are wired-up. what’s
good and right from them and what God wants for them.  That knowledge is too vast and intricate for
me.  It’s way above my security
clearance.
I’m
free simply to love people as much like Jesus loves them as I can, to tell them
what Jesus means to me, and to leave the rest—whatever the “rest” will or won’t
be–to him and to them.