In John Chapter 4 there is a story of a Samaritan woman’s encounter with Jesus at a well. She wasn’t blind, lame, demon possessed, or sick. She wasn’t a prostitute, a thief, or a tax collector. She was a woman with relational issues…

And Jesus met her there.

Here we have the God of the universe in human form. He turned water into wine. He calmed storms. He healed the sick and raised the dead. That water that the woman was drawing out for him? He spoke it into existence… literally. This was the King of kings… Lord of lords… the Messiah… but…

He met her there.

He shares a moment with her and has a conversation with her. She is amazed by how much he knows about the intimate details of her life. He tells her that he is the Messiah… the chosen one… the one that will free mankind from the bondage of sin and death. Yet on the list of all the world saving he had to do… he made it a point to talk to this woman.

He met her there.

My prayers are mostly selfish. I’ll throw in some prayers for other people but the truth is that what is most urgent on my list of prayers are all my own requests. I wrestle with this all the time.

I was sharing a meal and a conversation with my good friends, Abe and Annette. I shared about how I struggled with knowing that there are so many things going on in the world but the things that are most heavy on my heart are my own list of relational junk… the small stuff. Without hesitation they looked at me and said…

Jesus came down from heaven to meet with the woman at the well. You may feel that those things are small… but he cares about those things, Andres.

He doesn’t minimize our pain. He doesn’t disregard our sorrow. He cares about our heartbreak.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted [Psalm 34:18]

And here I am, sitting in my room, blogging about my lack of faith in God’s love. I’m not blind, lame, demon possessed, or sick. My worries are relatively minor. I don’t have any major needs or deficits. There is no crisis in my life… but…

He meets me here.

I thought about how much freedom there is in those words. To hand over any desires, wishes, and dreams I may have… to release whatever struggles, pain, and brokenness I may carry… to offer up all my hopes and fears and lay them at his feet and in his hands in utter reliance on miracles. How freeing would that be to know that he will always take care of me?

It was those very hands and feet that were pierced for my sin. It was for my sin that Jesus took those piercings and hung upon a cross. It was on that cross that he died the death I should have died even though he lived the life I should have lived. It was in that grave that three days later, he rose from the dead and conquered sin and death forever.

A miracle.

And if I’ve already given my life to him based on the miracle of the resurrection… all these other hopes and fears can easily be entrusted to him as well. I can hope for miracles as a regular occurrence because I rely on a miracle every moment to cover my sin. After all, every time I look at the empty cross and empty grave they remind me…

We rely on miracles here.

I thought about her as a puppy and how she has been such a source of comfort. I thought about how I should’ve made sure the gate was locked. I thought about how I should’ve brought her inside sooner. I thought about all the times I didn’t play with her because I was too tired or the times when I neglected to walk her because I had to entertain guests.

I thought about how I had forgotten the one for the many.

Thank goodness she was only hiding at a neighbor’s yard. When I finally found her, I was so relieved and excited that she thought I was playing a game with her so she took off running to the park down the street. After chasing her all the way to the park, I finally came to my dog training senses and knelt down and simply called her name. She quickly ran back to me with her big dog smile, completely oblivious to the turmoil she put me through. I was just glad to have her back.

Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?

[Luke 15:4]

There will be times when I’ll still de-prioritize Zoe for the many things I have on my plate. God never loses perspective as I do. He is always about the individual in the midst of the crowd.

He saw the repulsive prostitute and declared that she was beautiful. He saw Zacchaeus, the despised tax collector, and invited him to be his friend. And though a crowd surrounded him, he felt the touch of the untouchable woman and made her whole.

Though I may run after my many pursuits for fulfillment through recognition, religion, riches, and relationships… he will always run after me. It was in his infinite wisdom and grace that he knelt down, like I knelt, and called my name. But when he knelt, he knelt before a court that condemned him for my crimes. And when he called my name, it was not at the inconvenience of being covered in rain, but at the cost of being covered with the searing marks of the whip, the terrible bite of a crown of thorns, and the unimaginable sting of nails piercing his hands and feet.

You see, I know that God sees the one among the multitude because he saved the multitude at the cost of the One.

He sees the one…

The ones on the fringe… the marginalized… the outliers…

The unwanted… the weak… the weary…

The last… the least… and the lost…

He sees all of them… he sees all of us… but mainly… in the crowd, in the masses, in the multitude… he runs and calls out… because…

Well…

he sees you.

A few years later, we find Joseph, still faithful to God, locked in prison for a crime he did not commit. He is locked there with two other prisoners. In exchange for interpreting their dreams, one of them, a cupbearer, promises to put in a good word on behalf of Joseph so that he might be released. But he forgets. Then the Bible says an astonishing statement… “Two full years had passed…”

With just a few strokes of the pen, the author paints a terrible picture of despair. What we read as a mere sentence was two actual years for Joseph.

Two…
Full…
Years.

Joseph would eventually rise up to be the second most powerful man in all of Egypt. His plan to store up grain during seasons of plenty made the kingdom of Egypt wealthy in times of famine. Many people would travel far to buy grain from their reserves. His brothers would come in one of these groups. The story all winds down to one pivotal moment. He reveals himself to his brothers and they instantly shiver in fear, offering themselves as slaves… they say, treat us like how we treated you… but Joseph replies:

“Don’t be afraid of me. Am I God, that I can punish you? You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.”

[Genesis 50:19b-20]

There are times when God seems silent. You may be sitting there in your own prison of doubt and there seems like there is no way out. It seems like you’ve been forgotten. But he has not forgotten you.

Many years later, there was a man who’s father was also named Joseph. He was the Heavenly Father’s favorite. The Heavenly Father adored him.

Like Joseph, he was betrayed. He was stripped naked and taken away. He was imprisoned for crimes he did not commit… but he wasn’t just thrown in prison… he was beaten… humiliated… and killed. And it was there that he suffered the worst prison of all… absolute separation from the Father.

But unlike Joseph… he was the true innocent man. He was free of all fault. Yet, he gave up his life willingly so that he “could save the lives of many people.”

It is in truth that my heart can rest. I can sit through “two full years” of whatever I may be going through and know that I’m not forgotten. That’s because I know he was thrown into a far worse prison… the prison that I should be in. He lived the life I should’ve lived and died the death I should’ve died.

He did it for me.

He did it for you.

And that’s why…

we can endure this… for him.

Even though the objects are out of focus, there is beauty in it… and that beauty is enhanced when the object in the foreground is in focus.

And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne.

[Hebrews 12:1b-2]

Sometimes we walk in a place where there is no clarity. We find our world clouded and our vision blurred. But there is beauty in the midst of the ambiguity when we look to Jesus.

On the cross, the Father turned His back on His son as He bore our sin. He endured the darkness of a death on a cross because his focus was on His joy. He lost sight of the Father so that we, the blind, could see.

And it is here, in the midst of the fog, that when I see Him most clearly, that all the confusion turns into something beautiful. I can only stand in awe of the glory of His love. It is in this place… and only in this place… that I finally find perfect clarity.

That single phrase captures the endless pursuit of my heart to satisfy the God-shaped hole within me. It does not matter if it is the desire for wealth, power, or love… they are all, in essence, the same thing… unsatisfactory. I have been holding on to what I haven’t got.

My people have committed two sins:
They have forsaken me,
the spring of living water,
and have dug their own cisterns,
broken cisterns that cannot hold water.

[Jeremiah 2:13]

It’s like trading the ocean for a drop of water or giving away all my money in exchange for fools’ gold.

May I know that I have all the wealth that I need because You gave up all your riches to become poor. May I see that I have all the power that I need, because You gave up all Your might to become weak. And may I hold on to every drop of ink in Your Word that declares (at the cost of every drop of Your blood) that I am loved… more than any friend… more than any parent… more than any lover… by You… because you were rejected… for me.

Jesus, I know You are all that I have. Help me know, that You’re all that I need.

Esau asked, “What’s the meaning of all these flocks and herds I met?”

“To find favor in your eyes, my lord,” [Jacob] said.

But Esau said, “I already have plenty, my brother. Keep what you have for yourself.”

“No, please!” said Jacob. “If I have found favor in your eyes, accept this gift from me. For to see your face is like seeing the face of God, now that you have received me favorably. Please accept the present that was brought to you, for God has been gracious to me and I have all I need.” And because Jacob insisted, Esau accepted it. [Genesis 33:8-11]

So here we are… Jacob, who deceived his brother, Esau, into giving up his inheritance, finally comes face to face with his rival. Make no doubt about it, he’s scared to death of what his brother might do for revenge. So what was his strategy? A bribe. Jacob sends his herds and flocks ahead of him as a gift to his brother, hoping that it would appease whatever wrath he may have. But Esau rejects Jacob’s offer to buy his forgiveness; he gave it freely. What is Jacob’s response to this… seeing Esau is like seeing the face of God.

What a beautiful picture of God’s grace. Often times I try to earn God’s favor… to appease his wrath… to win his forgiveness. But He’ll have none of that. He gives it to me free of charge. Do I see my service to God in the same way? Do I see it as a response to His goodness and not as a bribe to earn His goodness?

Now, don’t get me wrong, just because He gives it for free doesn’t mean it didn’t cost anything. Just like Esau’s forgiveness cost him his inheritance, God’s forgiveness cost Jesus His inheritance. Christ gave up everything He was entitled to so that we could become co-heirs with Him. All it takes on my behalf is to repent and accept it. Then I can realize that because He gave everything for me… the only proper response is to see that He deserves everything from me. Which, when you think about it, shouldn’t actually be that hard if I grasped the fullness of what it all means. For what is anything I have when compared to seeing the face of God?

I wouldn’t say I have many routines but one of them is to stop by my friend’s restaurant for lunch every week. I usually order the same dish and hang out for a little bit before proceeding on my weekly errand run. A few months ago I noticed an older, homeless woman that would stand at the intersection with a sign asking for help. There were a few times that I would buy her a meal or a Subway Sandwich gift card. She was always grateful, reminding me that my gift would help feed her two grandchildren. Last week, I noticed her at a different intersection so I stopped and handed her a few dollars. As usual, she thanked me over and over again. I told her, God Bless, and was about to go on my way when I decided to pause and ask what her name was. She told me her name was Teresa. I told her that I would pray for her and then she asked me to pray for her two grandchildren as well.

My roommate and I went to eat there again today. I saw Teresa standing in the rain with her sign. She was drenched in water as she tried to cover her head with the hood on her jacket. I looked for my umbrella to hand her but I couldn’t find it. I suppose I could have ran to the store and bought her an umbrella, but I had important things to do like take a nap, try on the clothes I just bought from the mall, or even catch up on today’s football scores. It would’ve been a moment of discomfort for me to step out of my reality into hers but I chose not to. The truth was that, other than the first 15 minutes after I promised her, I haven’t even prayed for her or even thought of her.

As I write this I am reminded of the God of a second look. Most of us see someone and never think to look twice. But when God sees us, he doesn’t just take a second look, he stares long and hard. His thoughts are preoccupied with thoughts about us; he is obsessed with us. The truth is that he stepped out of his comfort and into our reality. He saw us in our hunger. He saw us in our poverty. But he didn’t just buy us a meal… he offers us a feast. He didn’t just give us shelter… he offers us a place in his kingdom. But he offers all this at a tremendous price. It didn’t just cost him a few dollars and gift card… it cost him everything. Because when he sees us… he falls madly in love with us. He falls madly in love with me. He falls madly in love with you.

I know I can only do so much but I am convinced that I need to keeping praying for Teresa so that her reality remains a part of my reality. It’s the reality that this world is not my home. It’s easy to take a first look at the world around me and think that I live in want. It’s easy to took a first look and see that this is all there is so I must do all I can to hold on to it. I hold on to the idea that I live in want for that wealth… that recognition… that relationship… that… life.

But when I take a second look, all I can see is blessing. I see that he’s taken care of me every step of the way. That even the most mundane interactions are orchestrated by him for my good. He showers me with grace and favor beyond anything I could imagine. Everything I see comes from his hand… and it’s everything I need. And more than anything I need… all I really need to see is that he sees me.

As I sit down to write this I just had this great feeling of contentment. I am really happy about my life right now. It’s hard to imagine that I was the same person I was just a few years ago. Those days seem so dark and distant as if it were all bad dream.

I once had a conversation with a professor from Rosemead School of Psychology about his journey and his thoughts about psychology, faith, and the graduate education process. He told me one thing that always stuck out to me. He told me that no matter where I end up, I will look back and see that the providence of God had led me there.

And here I am on my way to becoming a psychologist; it’s been a dream since I was in High School. It’s still a long journey but I have no doubt that God will lead me there if I just trust Him. There are some things I miss about those dark times. I miss the strong feeling that God was present. That’s the trick with the Christian walk, how do you be desperate for God when you aren’t desperate? Until I figure that out, God is not truly my savior… he’s just my emergency exit.

The biggest hit movie of the year right now is Christopher Nolan’s movie, Inception. There are tons of different blogs and posts about the various explanations to the movie and all the possible theories; this is not one of them. I really enjoyed this movie. I enjoyed the complexity of the main character. Then again, I like almost any movie that deals with psychology in a creative and a somewhat accurate way.

There was one part of the movie that really stuck with me. It was the idea of the ability to plant an idea. If there’s anything I’ve learned while training to be a therapist it’s that ideas are powerful. One small belief can raise up kingdoms or murder millions. It all begins with just the smallest of ideas.

As a Christian, this concept has profound implications. There is a passage in the Bible that says that God’s thoughts for us are like the grains of sand; you can’t count them. There’s another verse that says we are the apple of God’s eye. Imagine if we really believed that. The only one in the entire universe who’s love and approval really matters… thinks that we matter… thinks that you matter… thinks that… I matter. For God, this idea that we matter to him was so real and so imprinted onto his heart that he died for it. He entered into a nightmare of pain and suffering so that the dream of being fully loved and accepted could be real.