The Chosen season 4 finale

I just got home from seeing the Chosen season finale in theaters. I’m not going to lie: it’s a tough one. The aftermath of the bombs they dropped this season leave a devastating wake and it’s crushing to sit through. Especially for me. It had been a rough day and I felt like I was being primed for this. For what, I’m not sure. That seems to be the theme of the season: I don’t understand. Jesus’ followers didn’t understand what they were a part of. It must have been frustrating: they were expecting an army and liberation, a King riding in on His noble steed, sword in hand and victory soon to follow. Instead, they got a man on a donkey who died as a criminal. It must have been very strange at the time. 

But what I find myself often saying is “you know, that’s a lot like me.” I have been the Israelite complaining in the desert, the exasperated Moses leading them and now, the confused disciple. Maybe I’m impatient, but sometimes I expect everything to happen bigger and faster. When I’m not running a mile a minute, I get antsy. Like the disciples, I have an expectation for what a victory should look like, and what results would be best to achieve. Sometimes, those things don’t happen and I can’t help but pound my fists into the ground and shout “why?” 

There’s a parallel to be drawn to another movie called It’s a Wonderful Life. In case you weren’t familiar with it, the story follows a man named George Bailey. As a young man, George dreams of getting out of his crummy little town to see the world and make a big difference out there. Events keep happening that chain him to his hometown, forcing him to decide between staying to help and leaving to travel. He leads a beautiful life, but there’s an empty space inside of him because he had his sights on the rest of the world. One night he reaches rock bottom and gets a chance to see what life would have been like if he hadn’t been born. It turns out it would have been drastically different, and not in a good way. Eventually, he sees all the good he has done for his town and comes to his joyous senses. 

I often feel like George Bailey. There’s some good being done, but it’s not something I have my sights on. Even as I realize this, I can often find myself blind to some of the good that I am doing. “I’m not doing what I want or my way so it’s not worth squat!” I will say to myself. Jesus said to love like servants, but with no guarantee it would be easy. Sometimes it actually means sacrificing your will with no payoffs. I’m not going to lie, sometimes it’s exhausting, upsetting and even outright aggravating! 

But what do you do in those dark days when nothing makes sense? When the sun won’t shine and no amount of searching will provide you a “why?” My friend, I wish I had an answer. I wish I had some words of wisdom to impart that would help everything make sense. With a voice hoarse from shouting and knuckles bloodied from pounding the ground, I wish I could make it all make sense. 

But I can’t.

I can’t make sense of your life because I can’t even make sense of my own sometimes. I have ideas of how things should go, I see everyone else getting there. I follow where God leads, but it leads me somewhere that feels worthless, like He sent me to a dead-end. I know His ways are higher than my ways and His thoughts higher than my thoughts, but daggum my human back can only bend so much before it breaks. And breaking your back still hurts like no tomorrow, even as a Christian. It hurts, period. No if’s and’s or but’s. We can’t do it on our own. But sometimes when all the enthusiasm, all the excitement, all the joy have been sapped from our bones. When it’s no longer fun and games, when the music stops, all we have are the words Peter once said: “Lord, where else can we go? Only You have the words of life.” And on we trudge. We may not be cheerful, we may not be any less confused, or any more satisfied, but we march because we have made up our minds. We once said “I have decided to follow Jesus,” and we renew those words, saying them and meaning them once again.

Until next time

May Peace be your guide.