n. The whole of one’s possessions, energy, or interest; adv. wholly and completely
Hillsong United released a record a few months back titled “Zion” – if you aren’t familiar with Hillsong United I would go ahead and click that link to check out the music. It is a new, refreshing take on worship and I think it’s worth a listen. There’s a song on the album titled Scandal of Grace. We’ve been singing it quite a bit in our Fuse Student Ministry and will be introducing it to our Sunday crowd at NewSpring again this week.
Each time I hear the song, I find myself mysteriously drawn deeper to the heart of God. The chorus says this:
Oh to be like you
Give all I have just to know you
Jesus, there’s no one beside you
Forever the hope in my heart
I’m completely mesmerized by this concept. We are urged by Jesus, and the writers of the Epistles, to be like Jesus in every way that we can. But this idea of “giving ALL I can just to know Jesus” is mind boggling. I find myself singing those lyrics, but only halfway ready to make the commitment. Do I even understand what giving ALL is? Am I truly ready to do this?
If there is no one beside Jesus, nothing to satisfy the emptiness, no joy comparable, no love to match His own, why would I not surrender everything just to know Him; to know what it is to be whole?
My friends, I’m there. I am in a moment of such emptiness and heartache with a realization that placing my trust in things of this world still leaves me void. Relationships, success, even dreams for the future cannot hold the weight of my worship. They crumble under my reliance upon them to fulfill what they ultimately cannot. But in the midst of this place, Jesus has extended His hand to me. In the grace and mercy only found in His eyes, He reminds me that He’s been there all along.
When I cast aside all my idols, when I fully let go of my dreams and hopes that I believe will ultimately satisfy that place of longing and take hold of His hand, I will find there to be no one beside Him. He stands strong under the weight of my worship. And as I worship Him alone, somehow my heart is filled with hope. Somehow, He gives back what nothing else ever could. He mends the broken places, He showers me with joy. This peace that travels beyond my comprehension invades my naturally worrisome mind.
Jesus doesn’t work like I think He should. He tells me I have to surrender to receive. He assures me to let go is to win. Somehow in my weakness, He becomes strong. To be like Him, I must give up everything…EVERYTHING…and accept the reality that there is truly no one greater than He.
Forever the hope in my heart.