“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. 38 This is the great and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Love is the ultimate response God is looking for from us. It is the currency of Heaven. The Kingdom’s economy is ‘the gold standard’ of love. It’s the way business gets done in eternity. Love! Without love ruling our lives now, we will arrive there as paupers and beggars. We will disobey Jesus as well.
God is our primary target to love. And the quality of it can be appreciated from its ‘source point’. Heart. Soul. Mind. These are the starting places for our affection. The caliber of our worship is summed up by the word, “all.” That word has a totality, and a significance to it. It further intensifies love to the only acceptable place. Love indeed is the perfect “make-up.” We’re never more beautiful then when we love God or another person.
As disciples who are indeed flawed and broken, we can still find a place where we can minister from. I can’t do a lot anymore, but I can love. Loving God is something I can do, even with my issues. I can always love. I can always give my all, my heart to someone else. I can always love!
And actually, this disability strips my discipleship to a simpler and basic level. At the “lowest common denominator” my faith is still valid and vital. I love Jesus, even when I can’t be a senior pastor or teach at my Bible School anymore. I accept this. I can even rejoice in this new “inadequacy.”
Loving Him and following Him can be done, even with a limp.
Fifteen years ago I sat waiting for my bus, at King’s Cross in London, England. I was all alone, and I felt it. There was also a strong sense of brokenness that encircled me, I was painfully aware of my disability. I was coming a bit unglued at the enormity of my mental illness. I sat staring at the floor just in front of me. I could do nothing else. All I could do is stare. Stare some more.
But suddenly, in my field of vision, just in front of me, hopped a bird with a crippled foot. Something had damaged him. The thing that profoundly spoke to me was that bird was not at all devastated, not at all. And the Lord spoke to me about that bird, and His comfort pumped right through to my veins. I felt I was right where I was supposed to be. I had become the ‘broken sparrow,’ and amazingly I could still follow. Maybe, even better now, because of my ‘limp’.