Wanted

Wanted

Note: You can find the following spiritual parable, which is reproduced here with permission, in Soul Physicians.

Enjoying Who I Am, Becoming Who I Am

The Christian life is the process of enjoying who I am to Christ and becoming who I am in Christ. Sanctification involves living out my Sonship and my Sainthood.

The key to our victory is faith in our new identity. I’m convinced that everything in the Christian life revolves around how we answer the questions: “Who am I to Christ?” “Who am I in Christ?”

In today’s parable, we’re focusing on the first question: Who am I to Christ? What is God’s heart toward me? What does he think of me? Does he love me? Like me? Want me? Enjoy me? Do I fit in? Have I made the grade, the cut? How can I enjoy who I am to Christ? How can I exalt God for his gracious love?

Perhaps you’re not moved by this left-brain, analytical defense of our new nurture. Perhaps some right-brain, imaginative descriptions might help.

Misfit Island

Once upon a time, a gaggle of toys banded together to form a home they called “Misfit Island.” As their choice of a homeland name suggests, they felt unwanted.

There was the doll with the crinkled, matted, dirty blonde hair. “Ragamuffin” she named herself. Just a waif. Orphan Annie. Abandoned urchin. Homeless child.

And the plastic soldier with a missing arm missing his weapon. “Legion,” he called himself. Leprous, he saw himself. A pariah, he felt. Untouchable.

Then there was the stuffed doggie, the one with the scraggily hair and missing stuffings. “Stray,” was her chosen name. Foundling. Not even wanted by Cruella DeVille.

Their reluctant leader? A silly reindeer with a grotesque shining nose. “Dropout” the name he owned. Outcast he was from others. Castaway he lived. He came late to their island and seemingly by accident.

They all felt about as valuable as bumbling Gilligan. As desired as Dennis the Menace. As snotty-nosed as the Little Rascals. So they lived together as loners. In exile. Gypsies, tramps, and thieves. Hobos and derelicts. Vagabonds.

Then one day, and what a surprising day it was, they were visited. Visited by Man of Sorrows. Acquainted with their grief, he had no beauty or majesty to attract them. Nothing in his appearance that they should desire him. He, too, was despised and rejected. Like one from whom people hide their faces. Despised and esteemed not.

It was Dropout, the shining-nosed reindeer who first noticed. Perhaps his bulbous snoot enlightened him to see what others missed. He saw Man of Sorrows’ wounds. He was pierced. Like a lamb led to the slaughter, and as a sheep before his shearers.

Man of Sorrows had their undivided attention. “Toy Maker sent me.”

They gasped. Few even remembered Toy Maker. Those who did were sure that he had forgotten them. Worse yet, abandoned them. Disliked them.

“I am stricken by Toy Maker. Smitten by him. Afflicted. For you.”

“What!” they responded incredulously. “How is this possible? For us? Who does anything for us?”

“The One who is for you,” answered Man of Sorrows. He crushed me for your iniquities. The punishment that brought you peace—shalom—he placed upon me.”

“Peace? Shalom?” They wondered. “Shalom—acceptance, access, approach to Toy Maker, clear conscience, wantability, desirability—these belong not to us.”

“Silence!”

For the first time Man of Sorrows showed his teeth. “Would you denigrate so great salvation? Depreciate the price I paid? By my wounds you are healed. I was cut off that you might be grafted in. Castaway that you might be rescued. Made in the fashion of misfits that I might reconcile misfits to Toy Maker.”

“Sing!” he urged them. Burst into song, shout for joy! Do not hold back. Do not be afraid. You will never suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace, you will not be humiliated. For your Maker is your Husband. The Lord Almighty is his name. The Holy One is your Redeemer. For a brief moment you were abandoned, but with deep compassion Toy Maker calls you home. He has sworn never to be angry with you again, never to rebuke you again. He has promised, ‘Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken, nor my covenant of peace ever be removed. I want you.’”

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What difference could your new relationship to God in Christ make in how you live and in how you love God and others?