There is a sketch in one of my old journals, something my husband Joey drew in pencil one Sunday while our pastor gave the sermon. It’s not a big or imposing sketch; it is just a small, simple drawing that I could have easily forgotten, really. But one morning not so long ago, it was all I could think about. I have piles of journals, some half empty, some nearly full, most stowed away for that elusive someday when I would go back and revisit the ideas recorded there. Finding the picture among them all should have been difficult, but somehow I knew exactly which journal to find it in and where within those near-yellowed pages I would find it.
What I didn’t remember was why the sketch was there, or what had prompted it to be drawn in the first place. But when the pages fell open, I saw the image and read the verse scribbled just next to it:
“Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of God. Carry the light-giving message into the night.” Philippians 2:15 (The Message)
When I read these words that morning, they came alive in a way they hadn’t before. The juxtaposition of the verse and the sketch was powerful enough that morning for me to know that the Lord was speaking to me through them in a profound way, igniting them on fire and burning them onto my heart.
For the past several months, I’ve had a gnawing desire deep in my heart, one that is fraught with unanswered questions and uncertainty. I’m longing for something more than the life I have. It’s not to say I am unhappy. I’m quite happy indeed. In fact, there are moments in which I know I am happier now than I have been before. Life is full and wonderful, and there are beautiful moments in which I think to myself, “This is the life.”
Still, those moments pass and I’m left looking around my life wondering what it is, exactly. What is this life I lead? Isn’t there more? And if there is, am I ungrateful for the life I have and selfish for wanting the life that could be? I suppose it depends on what it is I’m wanting exactly. When I boil it down, what I want is this: I want more than to just make it through the day. I want to be inspired, I want to create, and I want to have adventure, romance, and beauty be a part of my everyday. I want to learn, and grow and discover things that make me squeal with delight. I want to live a good life, a really good life. Meaningful. Full.
And as a Christian, that’s mine for the taking, right? Life to the full? That’s what Christ came to give us, isn’t it? But what does that mean, exactly? What does it look like lived out? I often wonder what Jesus meant when he talked about that. I’ve wrestled with the idea of “life to the full” many times, mainly because being a follower of Christ doesn’t mean that life is always fun or easy.
But in John 10, Jesus talks about this idea, saying “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” Just before he says this, Jesus is talking figuratively about being a gatekeeper for sheep, and how it is through him that they can enter the safety of the pen. He is the shepherd whose voice the sheep know and recognize, the voice that they follow and obey. He tells of how those who try to enter the pen any other way are thieves whose purpose is to steal, kill, or destroy (the sheep, and therefore, the safety and the security of the life they have). But His purpose is to give life—the best life possible—to these sheep.
In other words, Jesus came to bring safety, security, a sense of belonging, a purpose; he has come to meet needs and care for the sheep that need him so desperately. Perhaps that is the “good living” that Paul talk about in Philippians 2:15, a life lived in a way that makes others notice that there is something different—and appealing—about it, not because we in ourselves are good, but because if we listen and obey the voice of the One who is Good, then our lives will give the world a glimpse of good living and of God.
But is this sort of life a sheltered one that doesn’t leave room for adventure? Just hanging around the pen all day sounds (dare I say) boring, and I don’t think that’s what Jesus meant—especially if Paul implores us to go out into the corrupted world as a breath of fresh air. I don’t think Jesus intended for those who love him to just sit inside the safety he provides; I think that because he is good, he protects; because he loves, he leads; because we choose to follow, he guides.
Like the sketch shows, I think we're supposed to go out into the world and let our love for Jesus, and therefore love for others, clean up the filth around us. We'll be a breath of fresh air if we simply live like Christ lived, and people will see him through us in the midst of the yuck and filth.
But to be completely honest, I'm not really sure what that looks like given the way my life actually is at the moment. So, I'm a journey of discovery to find out what it actually looks like, feels like, is - logistically, spiritually, practically. And through it all, I’m learning to live in a way that is risky and beautiful and meaningful and deeper than what it appears to be on the surface because I really do want my life to be a breath of fresh air, one that reflects the goodness of who God is, one that shines bright like stars.
