Focus on the Lighthouseنموونە

From a personal standpoint, I don’t have much to complain or worry about. I have gotten to a point in life and faith where I have learned to roll with the punches and give it to God, but if you’re anything like me, you have a tendency to be a volunteer tag team partner when someone (or multiple someones) you love is (or are) going through it, which can make you feel like you’re pouring from a near empty cup if you’re doing it for too many people.

I know this is a fairly normal experience, but it doesn’t mean it can’t be draining. Compassion is the cornerstone of authentic Christianity; Jesus dying on the cross for the sins we commit and taking our place is, historically speaking, the most profound example of compassion to have ever occurred. The Man literally died for not just you and me, but everyone, in the name of compassion. It was such a monumental event it split time in two. Talk about draining.

Our heartbreak became His heartbreak. Our weight became His to carry. It was then and it still is now, and we unfortunately lose sight of that more often than any of us would care to admit.

Comfort from the storm should not be the only reason we go to God, everything should be stored in Him. The good and the bad. Every glimmer of joy and every heartbreak that leaves you limping should point you back to Him. There is not a more secure vault to store your blessings and curses in. He is unchanging, unmoving, and the lock cannot be picked. I’m not talking about your money, your clothes, how big your house is, what kind of car you drive; I don’t care what you obtained materialistically, it will not matter when you are on your deathbed. I’m talking about the moments you felt the closest to Jesus in the valleys and highlands. Today we’ll meditate on a few verses from the book of Matthew.