I have proved it to be so; I am obsessed with serving Jesus Christ, and with working in His Church. I was born into an Apostolic home–to a fiery, caring preacher– spent my childhood around the godly people in the churches he pastored, married a preacher, produced children of similar mindset, and for these 53 years have been constantly involved in ministry. Never have I lived through one moment of wishing I were up to something else, nor of casting about for superior way, nor of sporting a jealous eye fixed on life in the easy, the mundane, the carnal. No, I am obsessed with Jesus Christ, His Plan, His Church: It is a magnificent obsession.
Think it not strange, this obsession of mine, for my trafficking in this, the greatest organism on the earth, has fashioned for me a life of exceptional peace and joy, of social fulfillment, and of such spiritual underpinnings and faith as to still my soul at any rare moment of stagger. This obsession with Jesus Christ has steadied my too-anxious hand, has carved a warm path for my steep and rocky tramps, has squared my judgment, and tempered my faulty positions. My obsession with Jesus Christ has infused me with anticipation of the highest degree: I anticipate meetings, where, with those of like mind and passion we worship Jesus Christ, where preachers, while fully human, are remarkably transformed into conduits through which the Holy Ghost unquestionably speaks. I anticipate Heaven and its unspeakable glories, planning to arrive there in a victorious and sweeping way, having been caught away by the power of God, either bursting from my dusty grave or being taken alive from this earth and meeting Jesus and the saints in the air!
I’m obsessed with the thought. I’ve whispered the story to many–to my children and to their’s and to their’s. We sing together of the glory that is ours, and of the greater that yet is to come. We cry at the promise, at the anointing, at the beauty of the revelation. I’m obsessed with Jesus Christ and His Church…and with His love.