Semi-exact… I wish I had said this before Donald Trump said it at the debate Monday night. I am in love with the term.
And I have already stated my thoughts on The Donald vs. Hilary.
I stand by this: This election isn’t the last straw. It’s not crushing the camel’s back. It might be the end of the world… But what fear is there in that?
I don’t recognize myself in the mirror lately. I hear words coming out of my mouth, and I look behind me to check and see, “who the heck said that?” Until about 11 months ago I was a semi-exact believer in Jesus. I talked to Him and about Him. I wrote about Him, and we were semi-exact friends. Only so much as I believed in the power of His death and resurrection, semi-exactly.
In the sea of religiosity and smorgasbord of pick and choose theology, Westernized Christianity is under piles of … Well, poop.
And frankly; it is really stinking things up. Not semi-exactly but entirely. The unearthing I have encountered has been altogether life altering. How can I, Jami Jo Amerine who is utterly terrified of flying, vomit, spiders, crunchy bugs, egg salad, elevators, the scale, and running with scissors – not be even semi-exactly afraid?
Here’s my secret: I am newly converted to belief in the whole power of the Blood of Jesus.
Not the semi-exactly power. The full power. Not Jesus plus this, this and this. Real time, full strength, high-def, triple shot, Venti, super-sized, ninja, Jesus blood.
And at every turn, I am more and more convinced I have been afraid because I didn’t really believe in what was accomplished on Calvary. I semi-exactly understood He died that I might walk in freedom, but the “semi” perspective crushed the “exact” perspective to death.
Instead of the fresh and beautiful fruit of the spirit, I should have been indulging in, I was left with a moldy squeeze pack of half eaten apple sauce festering in the Texas summer heat under the seat in my the van.
I was saved, but I was “pompous blowhole” saved in that the transparency of my semi-exactly faith was riddled with terms like,
“Belief but terrorized…”
Oh Donald, you and me man. Let’s make up words together. (Call me)
As I entered into the last chapters of my book, my sister Stacey, Katie M. Reid, Jan Greenwood, & Tracy Levison and I were bouncing the madness around and at every turn, I was faced with the message of Grace. And Grace is an entity. You can’t have a little grace. You are either a ballerina or you are not a ballerina. And you either receive the gift of Grace and freely bestow Grace … Or you don’t.
It is not semi, it is exact.
Most significantly this is loving fearlessly and fearlessly living.
And I am not afraid.
I am not scared of candidates, agendas, political parties, crunchy bugs, or the end of the world.
And I confess, (which in Hebrew actually means “agree”) I needed a savior to save me from the world. But I rebuke the notion the Blood wasn’t enough.
The Blood wasn’t semi-exactly potent, only slightly sufficient to conquer death. It was entirely enough. Yet in degrees of low-fat vanilla pudding to cayenne pepper flavored black beans I have treated it as if it were only one piece of the puzzle.
The Blood of Christ isn’t a missing link? It’s THE LINK. And the fraudulent mayhem and law we have added it to have created a potion that is driving millennials from our church pews, robbing marriages of pure joy, and heave-hoing us up onto a high horse where the Christian population looks like a freaking traveling circus in the parking lot of Kmart!
Stop the ride I want to get off!
I have a new formula for fishing for men: let God be God. Not semi-exactly – wholly. We told our babies to fully love like Jesus… But not that guy or that guy… And not if they are defined by that which looks different from your Sunday school Coloring sheet. Oh! Wait? You don’t believe in Jesus? Nope. Not that Jesus. A law abiding Jesus set us free and yet …
Yet what? You can’t walk on the water? The loaves and fishes weren’t for that sinner or that sinner because their sin wasn’t covered by the BLOOD they took on at their baptism and so we throw law here and there and then… They are free from the slavery of sin – semi-entirely.
No wonder no one believes us when we cry hallelujah, our voice is cracking and defining us liars. If we as believers in the Blood fully alleged it worked – the blood worked – we would ooze Grace, humility, LOVE, and patience. Self-control would shine forth not because of our good deeds but because THE BLOOD WORKED.
We are washed in the water and then chained to a pew begging God to come save us from that which He is already fully attending to! What?!?! What are we afraid of? What can go wrong?
Not even death.
The Blood worked.
It is done.
It is well.
It’s altogether rumpus-room-house party-licious. May whoever win. The blood is enough.
May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami
2 Corinthians 3:9 (NASB) “For if the ministry of condemnation has glory, much more does the ministry of righteousness abound in glory.”
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