Jesus for Me, too?

What is it about the verses at the beginning of John 14 that linger and cause my eyes to blur? Why do I always get so choked up? Did someone use these verses at some funeral long ago and it haunts me?

I think the reason could be a little more deep than that. I have pondered those words for many years. Not hours at a time, granted. But each time I either hear them or read them myself, I have thought about what they mean. “Let not your heart be troubled…In my father’s house are many rooms. I go to prepare a place for you.” He meant the disciples. He was talking to them. But it has been interpreted as meaning a place for you and me, too. How could that be? How could there be room for me? Me? The reluctant writer. The foot dragging volunteer. The downright stubborn Christian. There cannot be room for me in my—our-- father’s house. There is no place prepared for me. I don’t deserve a place. I don’t even deserve a place at the dining table. But I’ve been told he accepts me there. I guess I’ve gotten over that part. But the dwelling place? Nope, don’t think so.

You see I am wishy-washy. I am not a bold believer. I go to church on Sundays. I enjoy a good ecumenical debate when I can get one. I’ll argue theology if you want a good argument. But I don’t get vehement. I don’t get in your face. If you want a fighting Christian, you’ve come to the wrong source. I don’t like conflict. I don’t like it when people don’t like me. So what kind of believer am I? Not a good follower, I’m sure.

There is a verse somewhere about Jesus saying that he spits out lukewarm faith. I imagine he has spit me out before and probably will again. But that isn’t what it says in other places in the bible. It doesn’t say he spits me out. It doesn’t say he hates me, or doesn’t care for my weakness or my failures. It states almost emphatically that I am loved no matter what. And I believe that part because to think otherwise is pretty scary stuff. I love God. I trust God more than I’ve ever trusted anyone or anything else. But don’t ask me to be the representative with the voice. The mouthpiece of reverberating fire and brimstone.

And so, I think I feel sad when I read these verses. Because I hope they apply to me and in my poor little not-very-brave heart, I’m very afraid they don’t. But I then have to remember, too, that there is a verse that gives me hope. And that verse says, “help my unbelief.” So maybe there is a place after all.