I Need Jesus
Nestled in the heart of Oxford, St. Aldates weekly welcomes our family into its fold while we call Oxford home. Situated on the corner of Pembrook and St. Aldates, there is never an end to the hustle and bustle of people scurrying by its doors on Sunday mornings. Parents crossing over to the parish to pick up their children after the service, tourists taking pictures of Tom Tower of Christ Church college across the street, and students huddled into G & D's for steaming cups of coffee.
Last Sunday, as I traveled the cobblestone streets in between the main church building and the parish where the children are dropped off, I laughed and chatted with friends as I prepped my buggy (stroller) before picking up the pixies. As I bent over to lay something inside the buggy, I heard a little voice scream at the top of her lungs, "I NEED JESUS!" Again, crying even louder, "I NEED JESUS!"
I stood up, surprised as I heard my own two-year old, screaming in the middle of this bustling Oxford street, "I need Jesus!"
Lest you think my two-year old is ultra spiritual, I soon discovered that Jesus' head had fallen off the craft she had made. But the only thing in the world that mattered to her at that moment was she needed Jesus. Her little outburst caused many of the mom's and dad's to chuckle.
As I walked away I thought to myself, "I wish that I could be that bold". If only my grown-up faith allowed me to scream my need for Christ unabashedly like a two-year old, with no fear of what others thought.
Because the truth of the matter is, I need Jesus. I need Him more than my next breath. Only Jesus is enough for every single ache my heart feels. Every unmet longing my soul craves. Every captive fear my mind produces.
Wounds of This World
The world would teach us the cruelty of life. It inflicts its wounds into our souls, and we cry for healing often searching for it outside of the One whose wounds have already healed us. Isaiah 53:5 reminds us that, "He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed."
The Scottish poet, novelist, and pastor George MacDonald wrote, "The Son of God suffered unto death, not that men might not suffer, but that their sufferings might be like his."
A price had to be paid for wholeness. Christ already paid that price. There is no currency in the world that can compete with the love of Christ. It is done. The battle for wholeness has been won. Wounds of betrayal, loss, bitterness, anxiety, death, are swallowed up in the life of Jesus.
I need Jesus to heal my wounds.
No Other Name
There is no other Name under heaven or earth by which we mortals may be saved. The Scriptures emphasize the power of Jesus's literal name.
The healer of my wounds is the Savior of my soul. Oh, what love is this? That He who knew no sin or shame draped himself in the blackness of death for our souls. Did e're such love and sorrow meet? Or thorns compose so rich a brow?
The most perfect translation of love itself is Jesus Himself.
Madeleine L'Engle writes in her inspiring book Walking on Water, "Canon Tallis suggests that perhaps for our day the best translation of "love" is the name of Jesus, and that will tell us everything about love we need to know."
A hurting world can discover all there is to know about love in the person of Christ. He is enough to soothe every ache, calm every fear, save any soul. There are no limits to how far his love stretches, how deep it delves, how high it climbs. Jesus is Saviour.
I need Jesus to save my soul.
And so that little voice, screaming, "I Need Jesus!" mixes with my own voice, and together we join together with the rocks and the mountains the hills and the valleys to create a melody of praise, that all creation echoes and cries aloud,
"I Need Jesus!".