Only Jesus
I absentmindedly clicked the “play” button. Something I rarely do when someone texts me with a song or a video promoting some agenda or other. This one, though, was from a close friend who simply said the song had become a favorite of hers, so I decided to let it play while I continued my internet search for a Tiffany lamp. The lamp wasn’t necessary. It was something that caught my eye. Something expensive that tickled my fancy, that I had never owned before. The song played. I searched. And the music crescendoed into the first line of the chorus.
“I don’t want to leave a legacy. I don’t care if they remember me. Only Jesus.”
My hand slowed on my computer’s trackpad as my ears tuned in and my eyes lost focus on my search. Did I just hear what I thought I did? I listened. The second verse ended and again the music crescendoed into its chorus’ message.
“I don’t want to leave a legacy. I don’t care if they remember me. Only Jesus.”
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, there is a flash of light and then the warm glow of truth caresses my understanding. All my life has been a striving for legacy, for a purpose in life which will ensure I am remembered when I’m gone. This life, that I thought was lived in such passion for ministry, was lived in trying to leave a legacy, a name. Yes, a name by which people would remember my passion for Jesus, but it was my name they would remember first. It was my ministry they would remember, and it would point to Jesus. No wonder now, in retirement, I have felt so purposeless.
I played the song a second time. Tears flowed freely from my eyes and down my cheeks. My hand stretched out in worship to the deepest Love I have ever known. To Someone I have never seen but still long for. The words rolled off my lips in passionate prayer-song as my heart crumbled and my spirit soared with desire - the only desire that matters for eternity. Jesus.
“I don’t want to leave a legacy. I don’t care if they remember me. Only Jesus.”
And in this second. In this moment of time, a life is forever changed. Not through striving, but because of God’s faithfulness in using a friend, and a song, in the right place, and at the right time. A sown seed. A fruitful harvest. And another chink of the legalistic armor that began to mold and form around my spiritual body from the time I was a young girl, clatters to the ground in submission to “Only Jesus.”
And the Tiffany lamp? It’s nice. And I may buy it. But it’s not as important as it was an hour ago. Only Jesus.
Merry Christmas! I pray the central focus of your heart this season and through the year ahead will be only Jesus.
May God grant you peace and joy in 2022!