“Where’s my girl?”
These are the first words my son speaks when he pads out of his bedroom after nap time.
His hair is a mess of bed-head and he’s rubbing his eyes with the blanket still in his fist, but he has one thought on his mind. “My girl.”
“Your girl?” I ask.
“Where’s my girl? Where’s Catherine?”
This is the nickname he has given his bigger sister these last few weeks: “My girl.”
“Can I go see my girl at the school?”
“Can I sit next to my girl in the van?”
“I want to paint a picture for my girl.”
He even went so far as to proclaim that Catherine is “My best girl ever in the world.”
Catherine, of course, loves all the affection.
I think it’s pretty cute myself, although I must say most other moms of boys told me he would have his first crush on me and not his sister.
This week, though, as he stakes his little personal claim on his sister by calling her “my girl,” I keep feeling a nudge in my own heart.
What would it look like for me to stake some claims of my own by getting possessive about my faith, my position in Christ and my relationship with Him?
I don’t mean claiming some exclusivity with Jesus that others can’t enjoy. That’s not it.
I mean letting my faith seep down into the nittiest grittiest details of my every interaction and my every response and my every thought and feeling because it’s so deeply personal to me, it’s the very essence and core of who I am.
It reminds me of the disciple Thomas who stood in a room with the other apostles and announced he’d believe that Jesus raised from the dead when he saw it with his own two eyes.
And then he did see Jesus. Not only that, Jesus invited him to touch the scars in his palms and feel the scar along his side.
“Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” 28 Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:27-28 ESV).
I love Thomas’s answer.
MY Lord and MY God.
In the Matthew Henry Commentary, it says,
He spoke with affection, as one that took hold of Christ with all his might; My Lord and my God.
And Matthew Poole’s Commentary says:
My Lord, to whom I wholly yield and give up my self; and my God, in whom I believe. It is observed, that this is the first time that in the Gospel the name of God is given to Christ.
This apostle we call “Doubting Thomas” was the very first one in the gospels to give Jesus the name of God. This was a declaration of deity. This was worship.
It was also Thomas’s personal statement of affection and personal confession of belief.
I want to be that personal.
I want to be that bold.
I want to “take hold of Christ with all my might.”
He isn’t just Lord and God, a deity over all, a divine overseer who loves all of humanity in one encompassing feeling of committed affection.
He is MY Lord and MY God.
He is this for you, also.
And that should change some things.
This week I’ve been swatting away worries like pesky flies.
I’ve been duking it out with that kind of tension that just eases down on your shoulders and won’t go away, the kind that wakes you up at 3 a.m. and doesn’t let you slip back to sleep.
But Jesus is MY Lord and MY God.
I know He is able. He is Mighty. He can do the impossible. He can overcome anything I face.
There is nothing that happens to me that surprises Him and nothing that interrupts or destroys His plans for me.
And He loves me. It’s personal. He has set His affection on me and He cares about what happens to me. He doesn’t forget about my need or turn His back on me and let me down.
MY Lord and MY God is trustworthy and capable, compassionate and powerful, full of loyal love for me.
So slip your hand into His hand. Save Him a seat next to you in the minivan. Make Him the first person you seek when you wake up from naptime (if you are blessed enough to have a naptime!).
Pour your affection on Jesus and put all your faith in Him. Make it personal, deep-down real. And let that wildly abandoned faith change everything.