“I don’t think life is absurd. I think we are all here for a huge purpose. I think we shrink from the immensity of the purpose we are here for. ~Norman Mailer
No greater tragedy can befall us than our own refusal to live.
A dear friend, a wise counselor, used to ask, “How old were you when you died?” At what age, because of what distressing event, or mistaken conclusion, did you shutter your dreams and forget why God made you? When did you choose death?
The Bible uses three Greek words for life:
- bios–what you have, your age, size, net worth, accomplishments, possessions.
- psuche–what you are, your personality, choices, ambitions, dreams, what you do with what you have.
- zoe–what you can be. The eternal, abundant, joy-filled, ever-renewed life of God we lost when we were D is for Deceived.
“I have come that they may have zoe…” Jesus claimed, and nothing delights him more than one person trusting him enough to live freely, love boldly and follow him eagerly no matter the cost.
We’ve come to the close of our Alphabet Adagio. The last book of the Bible plays the stunning finale of the biblical story, a lingering glimpse of a future with its fingerprints all over the present. Someday, every broken life will be mended, all injustice upended, evil forgotten, darkness dispelled, creation lovingly made new. No sorrow, no pain, no death, no lies, no loneliness will haunt us. Earth and heaven will embrace forever, as God makes his home among us.
Someday.
But, if we are in Christ, the future is laughing within us. We live the happily ever, even while battered by the now.
How?
This is the power of the resurrected Christ. Indwelled by the zoe of God, we are bridges from the now to the will be. As healers of the broken, as conduits of his joy, as light in dark places, as bearers of compassion, as truth-tellers in the face of lies, we plant hope where nothing else grows.
Unless we forget how to live.
Are you living the end of the story? Say “yes” to Jesus and you will.
Thank you for joining me in this long, winding Alphabet Adagio. When you need reminding of how to live what matters, just start all over at A.
Photograph by Melanie Hunt
