I can still vividly remember the first time I saw the view in the picture above.
Chris, Augie, and I had been traveling for 12 hours and were beyond ready to be anywhere other than the seat of a truck. The drive into our campground was beautiful — green, yet, dry and rocky hills stretched on for miles and miles beyond what our eyes could see. The campground we would call home for the next two weeks was no different.
After the camper was parked and everything was set up, I made my way around the edge of the property and came upon the most magnificent view. It was unlike any other I’d seen at an RV park. It left me speechless.
I don’t want to get all dramatic on you, but it’s as if time stood still, and it was just this mini Texas mountain (or whatever you want to call it), God, and I. All I could think about was Psalm 8, where the Psalmist says, “what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?”
I don’t know about you, but moments like this make me feel extremely small and insignificant. We, as humans, tend to dislike being reminded of how small and insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things, but I personally love it. These are the moments that remind me how amazing it is that the Author of the Universe, the One who spoke the cosmos, mountains, and oceans into existence, loves me beyond belief and desires to have a personal relationship with me. That despite my feelings of insignificance, there is Someone far greater who finds me more than significant.
I never want moments like these to end, but I eventually had to return to the camper and help prepare dinner. While walking back — and simultaneously glancing back at the beautiful mini-mountain— I promised myself I would come back every day to admire the special view.
And you bet your tush I kept my promise.
Whether at sunset or at a random time in the middle of the day, I would hop over to my favorite spot and admire the beauty of God’s creation.
During my first couple of visits, the original awe-filled wonder continued to consume me, but something interesting happened the following week. With each visit, the awe-filled wonder began to dim more and more each time. Don’t get me wrong, I was beyond happy to be in front of my mini-mountain and away from the stresses of everyday life, but over time I got used to seeing its beauty.
I got comfortable.
The view hadn’t changed one bit, but after I had seen it so many times, it didn’t keep me as captivated as it did the first glance.
And all too often, that happens in our relationship with Jesus.
We become comfortable with His beauty, splendor, and what He’s done for us. The awe-filled reverence of who He is slowly begins to dim. We continue to seek Him out like I did with my mini-mountain, but we don’t feel the intensity of being in His presence as we once did.
We can’t let this happen. Why? Because the moment we become comfortable with Jesus is the moment we are indifferent to the weight of what He’s done for us.
Jesus paid it all so we could be reconciled to our Heavenly Father, who loves us dearly. And when I say He paid it all, I mean this: He was betrayed by His friends, wrongfully beaten and mistreated, and eventually murdered on a cross. He did this all for us and our salvation.
If you could read that and feel perfectly fine, you, my friend, have become too comfortable with Jesus.
Comfortability should be the last thing we experience when we hear about Jesus’ sufferings. Uneasiness in this situation is good because it means that we understand the importance of what He did for us.
Something I want to mention before I go any further is that God is not asking us to always be uncomfortable and continuously live in feelings of discomfort. 1 Corinthians 3 says, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
Our Heavenly Father is compassionate and the God of all comfort. He comforts us through the pain and suffering of this life. And because we receive this comfort, we are called to comfort those around us.
Being comfortable isn’t always a bad thing. It’s good to find comfort, contentment, and security at the feet of Jesus. But when we allow this comfortability to hinder our view of who He truly is, that’s when it becomes a problem.
So how do we practically push comfortability to the side and understand the weight of who Jesus is?
We consider Him.
In Hebrews 12:3, the writer says, “Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lost heart.”
Like any verse in the Bible, it’s important to understand the context surrounding it, so I’ll give you a quick run-down: Hebrews 11 explains what it’s like to have faith and how this faith brings us life. It’s where the “Hall of Faith” can be found in the Bible. 10/10 recommend reading it. But when we come to Hebrews 12, the writer is encouraging us to run the race (a Christian life) marked out before us with perseverance and look to Jesus, the Author, and Perfector of our faith.
Then we land at 12:3, where we’re told to consider Jesus and the opposition He faced. Consider means to think about something carefully.
When we constantly but carefully think about Jesus, His journey to the cross, and His resurrection, we are reminded of its significance. We are reminded that God loved the world so much that He sent His ONE and ONLY Son so that whoever believes in Him would not perish but experience eternal life (John 3:16).
So consider Him today, my friend. Consider the opposition He faced. Consider His death and resurrection. Remind yourself daily of who He is so you can continue to experience the awe and wonder you felt at first glance.
