Today I finished a six-year project. I finished reading the Gospels in First Person.
I never thought it would take me that long. Nor that I would start it in Canada and finish it after moving back to the States. I didn't even realize that I had launched a life-changing project. I was just desperate for help.
In March 2014 I was overwhelmed. I was five months out from my last cancer treatment, but had just been diagnosed with low thyroid (turned out to be Hashimoto's hypothyroiditis). I was struggling to get back to my "normal" life with homeschooling, housework, and house church. My spirit was dry from giving, giving. I longed to hide myself in a congregation and just worship and be fed.
So one night we did that. We attended the Saturday night service at Harvest Bible Chapel (now Hope Bible Church Markham) where our kids were part of Harvest Youth. And I found a balm for my soul.
My diary entry from March 29 contains no special details: "Tried to prioritize, but the day fell apart in so many ways at the end. Our time at Harvest turned my eyes back to Jesus." Here's what I remember.
The pastor spoke about Mary and Martha.¹ I've always loved that story,always resonated with Martha, with too much to be done ~ but wished I could be Mary, sitting at Jesus' feet. That night I thought, "I wonder what Jesus was saying to Mary. Was He talking with her alone? Had she asked Him to tell her stories about His life?"
Suddenly I realized I could do the very same thing. What if I started reading the story of Jesus, but changed the pronouns so He was telling me His story in His own words?
I began in Matthew, and could not believe the window that opened to me. I saw Jesus as a Teacher, saw His compassion as he ministered to hurting people. It was fascinating to look at these too-familiar stories through a new lens. My heart was stirred to be like my Master.
I'm not sure how long it took me, or whether I finished the book before Easter that year. But when I got to the crucifixion story and heard it in my Savior's own words, I saw His death as I'd never seen it before.
As an adult, I've struggled to read about Jesus' death, knowing the agony He went through. Good Friday was a sorrowful day as I pondered His pain and the price He paid for me.
But that year. I saw Him standing outside the story, able to tell me the details of His own death because He had survived it! Of course, I've always known that Jesus came back from the dead. But somehow, whenever I read the story, I pitied Him. Now I saw His death, not as the end of His life, but as an inevitable part of it ~ an eternity-altering break in the breathing half before He picked it up again.
I can't explain what that did for me.
I went on to read all the Gospels the same way. I read in fits and starts, sometimes only a chapter a week, sometimes with months in between. I kept a Gideons New Testament in the drawer of my bedside stand so I could snag a chapter after a nap or before bed. It took me six years to read the story of Jesus, written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John . . . told to me in His own words.
This morning, knowing it was Good Friday, I finished the last two chapters. I read them out loud, under my breath, trying to imagine His voice, tears streaming down my cheeks.
I was Mary Magdalene, recognizing Him when He calls my name. I was Thomas the Doubter, believing when He provides the proof I need. I was Peter, accepting His provision of a catch on the shore of the sea.
His living, breathing presence amazes me. I can, like Martha, welcome Jesus into my home. I don't even have to wait for Him to show up at my door. He is here all the time! When I am distracted, worried, or upset by all the things that swirl around me, I can choose to sit at His feet and ask Him to speak.
So much of what I do is temporary. Laundry, dishes, cooking, lesson plans, organizing, cleaning, decorating . . . they don't last. They will all perish when I do, if not before. But my times with Jesus and what I learn can never be taken away. They will be with me forever!
What a beautiful, life-changing gift!
¹The Bible, Luke 10:38-42
