I am a writer. A story-teller.
I must create in order to fully live.
And my creations have their truest expression when I am walking in intimate friendship with Jesus, fully submitted to His Lordship over my life.
When you know the character of a person, it can make it either harder or easier to submit to him or her. As I get to know Jesus better—kind, honest, with a good sense of humor, zealous for my whole heart and the truth—it gets easier to submit my will to His, even if at times it can be hard.
He is passionate for the truth and as I walk with Him, His passion rubs off on me and I find myself searching for ways to express this zeal.
Lord. It’s a hard word and concept in this day, this age. It brings to mind domination, slavery, imprisonment.
So how do I reconcile this word-image with the resounding ‘yes’ in my heart when I hear words like these?
“We don’t want to have a home where Jesus is honored;
we want a home where Jesus is Lord.”
Byron and Carla Weathersby
It echoes deep in the recesses of my soul—the Lordship of Jesus Christ which historical, orthodox, and vibrant Christianity calls me to.
Yes, honor is due Him. But in my heart and life, honor can turn into mere words…not true surrender to Jesus and what He is doing and saying in my life and in the world and in the heavens.
Surrendering to the Lordship of Jesus is death for me, it’s true. But in this death there is myrrh, the fragrant aroma of the Cross.
If I am His inheritance, the only way He fully receives me is for me to die. That is how inheritance works. He did the same for me on the Cross, and He continues to die to Himself as He walks with me (so humble!), a friend that sticks closer than a brother and through my self-centeredness that denies—or at least pushes away—His beauty and worthiness as the song of my life.
I don’t want a home where Jesus is honored;
I want a home where Jesus is Lord.
Our English word lord comes from the Old English ‘hlafweard’—literally “the keeper, the guardian of the loaves of bread.” The master of the house has the bread and he gives his own people what they can eat.
I come to my Lord, my Hlafweard, for true food and true drink on this Lord’s Day, knowing truly that apart from Him, away from His Lordship and His table, I can do, be, say, become nothing.