I used to believe that Jesus came for the better version of me — at least I lived like that was what I believed.
The me that I want to be. The me that had frayed ends coming together.
I loved to worship and experienced joy in serving others.
Me that conquered difficulties and was selfless and influencing the world for his Kingdom.
However, only acknowledging myself at my best does not paint a full picture of who I really am.
As a result, I would often find myself disappointed in who I am, and frustrated with the progress of my growth.
However, the good news is that Jesus did not come down to earth only for me at my best.
Jesus came down to earth in the mess.
After 400 years of the pain of the silence of God — Israel’s God who was once so near, a fire leading them out of the wilderness and a tangible Provider of their every need.
Jesus came then.
Not during Israel’s greatest triumphs and glory days of victories in conquering land and thriving in obedience, but during a season of hunger and thirst for change and deep hopelessness.
Was God going to come through and fulfill His promises?
Was He the faithful God that He said He was?
Was He ever going to come?
Through the hard seasons of my life, I have wrestled with these same questions.
Jesus came during a season of great doubt and sorrow; a season of waiting and questioning of the character of God.
It was a season of confusion.
And that’s the season I am in right now.
But even then, I still find myself rejoicing that God incarnate came down in the mess.
The perfect time.
And, Jesus wants to come into my mess right now.
I just have to let Him in.
He wants to come in and heal the hurt in my heart, and he wants to make a way where I have begun to feel lost.
He’s here in and messes.
And he’s come and will come again.
Today, I thank God for this.