Author Archives: Karla Jo Wasion

I love Jesus and His Church. His Word is Truth, His heart is good, and His return is sure.

The View From My Comfort

I’ve been sitting here looking out my window and thinking how pretty it looks out there. Everything is green, the skies are clear, and there’s a slight breeze that moves the leaves on the tree in the prettiest way. But I live in Texas and this is July, so I know the truth. Outside of my air-conditioned comfort zone it is hot and muggy, and within minutes I will want to go back inside, because the view of something and the experience of that same thing are often very different.

From my window, I can see the homes of my neighbors and it looks like most streets in middle-class suburbia. But the reality is that behind the walls of the majority of those homes, there is suffering taking place. Illness. Broken relationships. Financial stress. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. For all of us, what is seen on the outside rarely reveals what is on the inside.

As these thoughts creeped in, I thought of what we see when our view is of Jesus, through the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

The man with leprosy (Mark 1:40–45). The paralytic lowered through the roof (Mark 2:1–12). The woman with the issue of blood (Mark 5:25–34). Jairus (synagogue leader) and his daughter (Mark 5:21–43). The Gadarene demoniac (Mark 5:1–20). The centurion (and his servant) (Matthew 8:5–13). The blind men (including Bartimaeus) (Mark 10:46–52). The ten lepers (Luke 17:11–19). The widow of Nain (Luke 7:11–17). The crippled woman in the synagogue (Luke 13:10–17).

In all of these, Jesus viewed no suffering from a distance or from a place of comfort. He didn’t send up thoughts or prayers, or put a check in the mail. Instead, He touched the suffering, wept with them, spoke to them and comforted them face to face.

And one day He said this to His disciples – “If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also.” (John 12:26)

We all live in places where there is suffering, and it isn’t limited to the poor or the homeless. In this fallen world suffering comes to both the sick and the poor and the healthy and the wealty. It is no repecter of persons, and we live among them all, carrying His presence with us.

The question is, are we looking at them from our places of comfort, or from our willingness to reach out and touch them? To get face to face with them, sit in it with them, weep with them, share the love of the Father with them?

This is what makes us followers of Christ. This is what makes us missionaries. Not that we went across the world, but that we touched the suffering around us with the love, compassion, and power of Jesus.

Jesus didn’t have these encounters every day. Many times we read of Him sitting in a boat or in the synagogue, teaching. Sometimes He was just with His disciples and sometimes He went off on His own to be with His Father in prayer. All of this was the ministry of the Messiah, and as He went, He encountered the suffering of humanity and He touched it.

When you think of the scriptures and how they describe Jesus, what word comes to mind? For me, it’s compassion. He was filled with compassion, moved with compassion, and acted out of compassion. He showed compassion far more than He showed empathy. The difference is empathy feels, compassion acts.

We are called to serve Him by following Him. If we are going to do that, we cannot continue to just have a view of the world from our place of comfort.

Father, move us from our complacency, from our love of comfort. Give us the heart to desire to touch those who are suffering around us. Give us compassion more than empathy. I pray that You will make my own comfort zone uncomfortable, and that You will give me face to face encounters with those around me who need Your love and compassion.

His Disciple: Sometimes We Just Don’t Get It

For instance, the story of Lazarus told in John, chapter 11. Every point the disciples made in this story was wrong, but I learned a few things from them.

Jesus said “Let us go back to Judea” when He heard about Lazarus being sick (actually, three days later). The disciples argued that people tried to kill Him in Judea. Jesus responded with words that can sound confusing to us, but basically mean that there’s only so much time to do the work we are called to do, so don’t waste it being afraid. (that’s my take on it. You may have a different interpretation. If you’re feeling angsty about it, go with yours.)

Don’t waste Kingdom time on earthly fears.

Then He told them that Lazarus had fallen asleep. He meant Lazarus had died, but the disciples, bless their hearts, thought He meant their friend was napping, like a sick man would do. Because, as was so often the case, Jesus had a spiritual perspective while His disciples had an earthly perspective, and man, doesn’t that sound just like us?

Where we fix our eyes will give us our perspective.

Thomas said “Let us also go, that we may die with Him.” His assumption was based on common sense – that if they returned to Judea, Jesus would be killed and so would His followers. Thomas was there for it, so, wow. Good on him. On one deep space level, Thomas had it right. Jesus did eventually go to His death, and called us to follow Him in doing likewise by taking up our cross every day. But practically speaking, Thomas made an assumption because he had no idea what Jesus’ mission was actually about. It made sense to him that going back to Judea would end in death.

Common sense can keep us from trusting God.

Mary & Martha both said to Jesus, “if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” They judged His heart according to their pain. He was the same Jesus they had been following, serving, and loving. But because their lives had just changed, they assumed He had changed.

We are not the lens for the goodness of God. We cannot use our circumstances or our pain to judge His heart.

“Take away the stone.”

“Lazarus come out.”

“Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

Beautiful words that reveal the greater thing that Jesus was doing that His disciples couldn’t see.

Just because we can’t see what He’s doing, doesn’t mean He isn’t doing something good.

Those early ones are our mirror and today they show us that sometimes, we just don’t get it. But we are growing, just like they grew. Learning where to put our gaze, learning to trust Him more, follow more closely, and become more like Him and less like us.

And one day, we will see Him face to face, and we’ll get it. It will be the best. day. ever.

I Feel Old. And Weird. And Hopeful.

No forethought, really, just letting my fingers type my thoughts.

For awhile I couldn’t really tell that I was getting old, unless I consulted my physical body, which always seemed delighted to tell me the truth about my lost youth. My body and I are no longer on speaking terms.

But now. I don’t know. I feel it deeper than just physically.

When I look at the world around me and what has happened just over the last decade or so, I feel like someone from another time, finding myself in a world that has shape shifted into something I don’t recognize.

Strange people protesting strange things.

Everywhere I look someone is offended at someone or something.

Why does who I voted for offend you? I mean, when did that become a thing?

How can it be a debate that we don’t let children decide their gender?

How does it take legislation to prevent doctors from mutilating a child’s body for the sake of a delusion that is actually a mental illness?

How are we a society that now fights to keep parents from having the authority to not go along with their child’s desire to be something that, genetically, they are not and odds are they won’t desire in a few years?

I mean, when did we, as a culture, start going after the children – the ones who need our protection the most? I know it’s always been a thing, evil targeting kids, but when did it become something that people are ok publically fighting for rather than against? How did that even happen? When did America lose its mind?

When did we start applauding violence toward people and their property simply because they don’t agree with us? And oh my gosh, when and how did it become ok to spit in the face of anyone, much less a police officer? When did our respect for all authority get flushed down a toilet? I understand that corruption exists, and it makes us angry, and I am all for the right and responsiblity to protest corruption and injustice. But what’s happening right now feels different. Demonic. Lawless. Complete and utter rebellion, and a society that accepts it and even applauds it.

How on earth did we get here?

I feel the oldness now. Not just in my body, but in my soul. Like I slept too long and woke up in a foreign place. Unable to find my way around, because nothing is familiar. It feels like a tsmanami that just keeps coming, destroying everything with a darkness that is palpable.

But yes. I know the ending. I know God remains enthroned above the circle of the earth and He raises nations and kings and He brings them down and all of this must take place before the end comes and Jesus returns in glory.

Honestly, if I didn’t know all that, there are days when I don’t think I would have any desire to continue living on this earth. Thankfully, I do know all that.

But still the thoughts come. The grieving comes. Because my grandchildren are growing up in this world that has gone awry. In a world where truth is subjective and morality isn’t really a thing and people are buck naked crazy but everyone pretends they aren’t.

It makes me feel not just old, but almost helpless. Except.

I know the One enthroned. He inclines His ear to me. He moves me to prayer and to believe that my voice matters more in heaven than it does on earth. So I pray for the little ones who carry the future of this place that is so strange to me now.

I pray they will be awakened from the slumber that has come upon this land and its people, and that they will recognize truth from lie. That they will shake off offense and fear and the lure of the carnal, and choose to take up sword and shield and fight a spiritual battle that matters more than any other war being fought by men. That they will know the urgency of the gospel and that it is far more important than what a government is doing or not doing.

I pray for a generation of children to know the light, carry the light, and live in the light of Christ for the sake of a lost world. That they will have the spiritual maturity, even at a young age, to resist the pull of this world and keep their feet firmly planted on the Word of God. I pray for rescuers, not to rescue a country, but to rescue souls from eternal darkness.

I may feel old, but in my spirit there remains a hope that still feels young. Fresh. Alive. I am learning to embrace both. To be ok with weirdness and with the passing of time, as I remain full of hope and full of prayer.

Thanks for listening. Maybe you feel some of these things as well? Maybe you disagree with every word of it, except the part that I may be weird. That’s ok. You are entitled to your opinion, and I’m not offended by it. See how easy that is?

His Disciple—They Went

“These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel.  As you go, proclaim this message: ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received; freely give.” – Matthew 10:5-8

They were to go without His physical presence with them, but with His authority and power on them. He told them where to go and where not to go. What to say, what to do. In other words, He sent them with His purpose and strategy not theirs.

And once again He reminds me that I do not call the shots for my life. I am not the decision maker in this relationship.

“Do not get any gold or silver or copper to take with you in your belts— no bag for the journey or extra shirt or sandals or a staff, for the worker is worth his keep.” (vs. 9-10) 

He allowed them no means to provide for themselves and it would be their first lesson in trusting the One who sent them out.

“If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet.” (v. 14) 

Don’t spend breath and time trying to make someone listen to you. Just go. Move on. I wonder if that was as hard for them as it is for us. To just walk away from someone who isn’t ready to repent, instead of trying to convince them to accept something they don’t want.

We are a people called to carry a message to the world. But we are not a people called to try to convince the world to believe and receive our message. Neither are we called to dress the gospel up or dress it down, to cover it in soft sounding language and prime it with the best songs and lights and coffee in the lobby. I’m not saying having coffee for people is wrong. I’m not a monster. I’m just saying that, in so many ways, what we are doing today looks very different than it looked then and I don’t know if that’s such a good thing.

“I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves. Be on your guard; you will be handed over to the local councils and be flogged in the synagogues. On My account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles.” (vs. 16-18)

He didn’t sugarcoat it for them. Didn’t frame it as a great adventure. He told them the truth—this was going to be hard. Dangerous. They were being sent out on mission with the authority and power of Jesus on them, and a mandate to preach the gospel, heal the sick, and cast out demons. And, with a promise of suffering.

So they went. Perhaps that is the most surprising thing of all. They chose to trust and obey and they just went. The simplicity of it is stark in comparison to our months and months of trainings and preparations and fund raising and our “let me pray about it” mentality. (Yes, yes, in our world today all of that feels so necessary, and practically speaking it is, I get that. But don’t you just long for the early days? The days when trust was literally all they had?)

They were His disciples, and He said go, so they just went.

Father, break us free from ourselves and our propensity to run with our own plans and to complicate the mess out of what You’ve called us to do. May it be said of us, in this time, that we just went, because You said go and we had learned to trust You.

His Disciple: A Table for Sick Sinners

While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” – Matthew 9:10-13

Close your eyes and imagine the scene. It’s ok, just play along with me. Close your eyes. What do you see?

I see a table full of people I probably wouldn’t spend time around. I see the people our society hates, the ones we turn away from, the ones our religious spirit avoids.

And at the head of the table I see Jesus. Laughing, passing the green beans, telling stories. Loving the ones in front of Him because He knows how desperately they need what He has come to give them. A way out. Stripped of their filthy rags and given clean garments. Life. Love. Freedom. Redemption. Forgiveness.

It’s what we all need, but for some reason, the ones who have already had their time at the table of sinners with Jesus resent the ones who are drawn to that same table. And when the religious spirited people have the boldness to ask His disciples about it, Jesus slaps back with what we all need to hear.

I came for these. For sick sinners. I didn’t come for anyone who is already healthy. Do we get what He was saying? Maybe this will help us pick up the sarcasm in His voice – “There is none righteous, no, not one.” (Romans 3:10)

The only difference between us and the sick sinners around us is that we came to the table before they got there. We sat with Him, just as sick as they are, and found healing, forgiveness, and eternal life – all the things they need. The table for sick sinners is as much our table as it is theirs.

We are His disciples. The ones who get to watch Him heal the sick, deliver the oppressed, feed the hungry, and offer forgiveness to all of them, because we watched Him do it in us. Let’s choose to watch with joy, gratitude, and fascination rather than with scorn. Let’s invite sick sinners to the table, instead of questioning why they’ve come and why on earth is Jesus sitting there with them. Let’s get over our indignation that Jesus loves them the same way He loves us.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. (Ps. 23:5)

Father, forgive us for when we choose to bow to a religious spirit rather than to You. Teach us how to invite others to the same table where we found forgiveness and eternal life. Give us eyes to see people the way You see them instead of the way we see them.

His Disciple: Where Is Your Faith?

One day Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side of the lake.” So they got into a boat and set out. As they sailed, he fell asleep. A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger. The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!” He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. “Where is your faith?” he asked his disciples. – Luke 8:22-25

Here is what I see.

It was Jesus who led the way to the other side of the lake, not the disciples, and I remember that, as a disciple, I don’t choose where we go, Jesus does.

Jesus led them into a storm, but the only reason those disciples experienced that storm is because they were disciples, obediently following their Rabbi. Jonah hit a storm too, but it was because of his disobedience. Storms will come, but I’d much rather have it come to my obedience than to my rebellion.

Jesus slept and I bet it’s because He was tired. In His humanity, He knew what it feels like to give of ourselves to the point of exhaustion. So if you think He doesn’t get how dog-tired you are, you’re wrong. He felt it enough to fall asleep on a boat knowing a storm was on its way.

“They were in great danger.” They didn’t just panic for no reason. These were seasoned fishermen who knew the real danger of a sudden squall threatening to capsize their boat. So what did they do in their panic? They did the obvious. They woke Jesus up and let Him know they were all about to die. The point I want to make is that they didn’t try to save themselves. They didn’t get busy doing what they knew to do. Even if we come to Him with our hair on fire in panic, coming to Him is the best possible thing we can do.

Where is your faith? Maybe this is controversial, maybe not, but here is what I believe. I don’t think Jesus was questioning their faith because they were afraid. I think this storm was worthy of a healthy amount of fear, but it was not worthy of their faith. I can’t help but think He was asking them where they were putting their faith during the storm.

In other words, where is your faith? In the storm, or in Jesus?

As His disciples we will experience storms, but we will experience them with Him on the boat with us, not watching us from the shore. May we always trust that the One who is with us is far greater than what comes against us.

Lord, no matter what my storm looks like, You are still the God who commands the waves. Help me trust You to be greater than the storm.

His Disciple: There’s A Cost Either Way

Large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and turning to them he said: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. – Luke 14:25-27

  • Large crowds were with Him, but not necessarily following Him.
  • They were told that unless they were willing to hate their family, they could not be His disciple. Let’s stop right there.

What is this hate He speaks of? The word is miseō, and like most words, it means different things depending on context. Here, it does not mean to hate in a “you detest me” sort of way. It means to prefer one thing over another, and is used in much the same context as “the impossibility of serving two masters.” In other words, you cannot put anyone, including parents, children, siblings, or even your spouse, above Jesus. Your allegiance is to Him first, otherwise, you cannot be His disciple. There is no murkiness to these waters. Nothing open to interpretation, just plain and simple – Jesus above all things. This is part of the cost of following Him, not just being with Him.

AND (in additon to, plus, also)… if we are unwilling to carry our cross, we cannot be His disciple. If we will not allow yourselves to be crucified to the things of this world, to our own passions and pleasures, to anything and everything that is of us but not of Him, we cannot be His disciple.

Do you feel the weight of it yet?

We all want to be with Him, don’t we? We all want to reap the benefits of His goodness, His power, and His love. And here is truth – we can be with Him and not become like Him, but that is not the life of a disciple. Unless we are willing to pick up and carry the suffering in our flesh, dying to all that opposes His will, then we will be just part of the crowd.

We will not wear the dust of our Rabbi as part of the crowd.

And maybe that’s just fine with you. Maybe you’re ok just trying to walk in the basic teachings of Jesus, trying to be moral and good, but not going overboard on the whole “Jesus thing.” And I’ll be honest, somedays, that sounds good to me too. Somedays, I’m just not all that interested in dying to myself again. But there is one thing that Jesus said that keeps me from staying in that place.

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’ – Matthew 7:21-23

So, two questions.

Have you counted the cost of being His disciple?

Have you counted the cost of not being His disciple?

Father, help us take up our cross. I pray that each of us will be led by the Holy Spirit to the same conclusion – You are worthy of anything in me that needs to die. Worthy of being put above all else, including family. You are worthy of it all.