So You Want to Follow Jesus? Grab Your Muck Boots

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

Isaiah 43:18-19

A welcomed change to the weather creeps into West Michigan. Hopes of an early spring dance in with sunshine and balmy (35 degrees plus, balmy is relative) temperatures. Hats are left indoors and snow boots are exchanged for muck boots.

If you reside in a warmer, dryer climate perhaps this does not resonate, the need for muck boots. But if you live in West Michigan in March, it will click. The promise of spring does not initially reveal itself with peeking purple crocuses or early white snowdrops, it comes with dirty snow melt running to reveal spongy, mucky ground. If you are fortunate enough to have a pup, well, it reveals another mucky treat folded into layers of old snow.

Two things brought me to the place where a decision to whole heartedly follow Jesus was inevitable. One, I was a complete and total mess. Doing things my way brought me to the end of myself. Heartbroken, anxiety ridden, angry and without hope, I needed another way. And the second, listening to Beth Moore speak of her relationship with Jesus Christ.

I have been a student of the Bible for a long, long time. My first introduction to Bible study was pre-school circa 1970 something, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the living room floor, bathed and in my pajamas listening to the conversation of high school students who would weekly gather with my parents to have “Bible Study”. Before I could read, I knew about Bible study, or the general gist of it. This became personal sometime in my mid-twenties as I worked through BSF studies. Later after having children, I fell into the rhythm of women’s Wednesday night Bible study, often in a study taught by Beth Moore.

There is a truth that cannot be missed in regards to Bible study. Studying the Bible does not translate to following Jesus Christ or knowing Him intimately. Let’s just put that on the table and state it loud and clear. I loved Bible study, the words, the unexpected connections, the layer upon layer of meanings built against the backdrop of then, now and someday. But I did not love Jesus Christ passionately, maybe not at all. Reflecting, I am not sure I knew Him all that much, other than what I had read and committed to my intellect.

Ms. Moore’s oft declared love of Jesus Christ presented me with a few options. Either this admired teacher of mine was a liar and selling me a weekly teaching of nothing; this beloved Jesus and His promises were only for people “like” her; or I wanted what she had.

Like the prodigal son (or daughter), my journey home with Jesus started with me living knee deep in muck. My notion of what life would soon look like, after I cried repeatedly for help, resembled what is often referred to as Prosperity Gospel. Everything would, overnight, be perfect, dreamy, easy. I had no idea.

Back to the muck boots.

What followed my desperate cries for help did not resemble happily ever after, more like early spring in West Michigan. Layer after layer of dirty snow melting to reveal the spongy muck and dog piles underneath. Mud where green grass should grow. Dead leaves and branches from seasons past where new sprouts should be. December oak leaves packed into tight corners, wet layers obscuring the light. Piles of damp firewood inviting decay, worthless for fire starting.

There is hope in my story, of course, as there is always hope with Jesus Christ. But first, there was a lot of work removing the dead parts and moving through, not settling in, the muck. Good news, I did not do this on my own. That is not how it works, nor is it possible. I moved through with Him after repeatedly going back to Him, often with more tears of desperation, asking for help.

Jesus did the hard work. Gradually, with persistence and kindness, He changed my heart and my mind. Decades of poor decision making, thought patterns, choosing my own way, building my life on a flimsy foundation (myself), had to be cleared away, redeemed, and sanctified in order for new things to take root.

Jesus Christ and His promises are not just for the likes of Beth Moore, they are for me. And they are for you.

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When you are living knee deep in muck, He is able to lift you out and set your feet on solid ground (Psalm 40:2).

When you are broken-hearted, He is near you (Psalm 34:18).

When you are afraid, He whispers to not be afraid, for He never leaves you (Joshua 1:9).

When you feel alone, unseen and unheard, He sees you and He hears you (Genesis 16:13, Psalm 40:1).

When you are empty, He fills you (John 4:13-14).

When you are forgotten, He remembers you (Exodus 2:24).

When you are dissatisfied; He satisfies your desires with good things (Psalm 103:5).

When much has been wasted, He promises to restore (Joel 2:25).

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The Gospel of Jesus Christ is good news, and it is for you.

Pulling on my muck boots, I go out into the balmy air searching for spring. It comes ever so gradually with subtle hints, days stretching longer, robins returning to rebuild their homes, rain tip tapping on the glass, green sprouts and red buds beginning to form. I go out watching for spring because a new season after the muck brings with it new life. I go out looking for spring knowing with joyful confidence that a slow cool spring promises good, sweet fruit.