I still remember the first time I read the words: “Jesus wept.”
I remember the crinkle of crisp pages turning, the settling into John 11, the finding of a Friend in the 35th verse. That morning, I read “Jesus wept” for the first time — or at least it felt like the first.
Maybe I’d seen Him only as divine before — on a faraway throne. Maybe that’s why the words leapt fresh off the page and stopped me cold. For the first time in my life, I became aware not only of His divinity, but His startling humanity. I was caught breathless by the tears of the God-man.
Jesus of Nazareth knew what it meant to feel his throat tighten in grief, that lump of pain rising to stop words. He knew what it meant to cry, to drop his head in his hands and sob until shoulders shook.
And I wept, too, overcome by a divine God who let salty tears run down his rugged Nazarene cheeks while he stood at the tomb of a friend.
And that morning, in the quiet of my living room, we cried together. For a moment, I was there, too, outside Lazarus’ stony hillside tomb at the side of a crying Christ, weeping for our losses.
Jesus wept with me. Dare I say, for me?
I fast. I pray. I slow to hear His voice. I journal. I sing. I nature-walk to see Him in sunrises and cornfields.
But of all the spiritual disciplines, none has affected my relationship with Jesus more deeply than this: reading His Word.
Because these ancient words … they are more than letters dropped on pages.
These words are a Person.
In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.
— John 1:1
I find a Person in these words — a wild, fiery, unpredictable, holy, drop-to-my-knees-because-I-can’t-fathom-His-greatness, Person in these words.
This Word — this Person — sanctifies, unites, divides, teaches, soothes, afflicts, convicts, and loves with Letters afire on pages. These Words are wild Words, fiery Words. They burn the soul, ignite spirit-flames, set hearts ablaze and tears to sting.
They are sharper than swords, deeper than ocean depths. Someone once said these words were shallow enough for a child to wade in safely, but deep enough for any theologian to swim in.
I’ve waded — sometimes nearly drowned — in the Living Waters of this Person. This Person is a buoy, and I float within this ocean, walk on water with Him there, watch Him calm my storms, part seas, wash me clean, refresh this parched soul. And new, salty springs erupt at the corners of my eyes.
We weep in the Word.
I open pages to plumb the heart of Heaven Come Down, to know a Divine Expression with a name: Logos. To know a Person, I study a heart. To know God, I plumb the Word.
The Word is a man, the God-man, our Christ who shattered the atmosphere, broke into humanity and wrote letters on human hearts.
λόγος. I meet Him in Word. Do I have any idea of its power? I can hardly fathom.
He is clothed in a garment sprinkled with blood.
His name is called
“The Word of God.”
— Rev. 19:13
Do we have the courage to meet Holy God in λόγος?
Here’s where I meet Him; here’s how He ignites a fire in me daily:
- Daily, I eat this Book, if only one Scripture at a time. Then, I look for ways to allow this Word-feast to multiply. Will I be a hearer of the Word, or a doer of it, too? Will I “eat this book” and let Christ turn these five loaves and two fishes into a feast for sharing?
- I meet the Word in my tent and altar, a black canvas bag that travels with me. I’m never without His word, for it is my Daily Bread.
- Journal and draw. I am not an artist, but I draw Scripture. It has brought new life to familiar verses. (A study-practice I learned last summer from Monica at Know-Love-Obey God.)
- Place reminders of Logos around your home — by the kitchen sink, near the computer, at the bedside. Above door frames. At my back door, Scripture greets and reminds me every time I leave: “For the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say.” — Luke 12:12
- Invite His Spirit to guide you as you begin your study, and continue in that attitude of prayer. Ask for God to build a desire in your heart for His Word. Then quiet your soul daily to hear a Person speak within.
Logos of God, speak. We are listening.
This is part of Ann’s weekly series: Walk With Him Wednesday.
She asks us this week:
“What one spiritual practice has most deeply affected
your relationship with Jesus?”
Today Ann shares a beautiful post entitled:
Eating Bread: The One Habit That’s Most Changed Us.
Would you share a spiritual practice here in the comment box
… or perhaps on your own blog and join in this community
of Wednesday pilgrims?
λόγος — Greek term, Logos, for “Word.”