Have you ever written or received a love letter, Dear Reader? Somewhere in a small, blue Boy Scout trunk, there are two packets of letters, one secured with a rubber band, and the other with red ribbon. Back in the day there were three main ways to communicate with others: in person, a phone call (on a phone with a cord), or letters.
IfTo m and I were to get the letters out, after all these years, they would probably sound rather insipid and mushy. But then, they were tangible reminders of devotion we could hold in our hands to read time and again. Sounds silly, right?
Could it be, Dear Reader, that somewhere in a drawer, or a box, perhaps in a book, there’s a card from someone you hold dear, that you just can’t bear to part with? A tangible reminder that you are loved.
Like most of my books, Behind the Halo took a circuitous route to publication. Perhaps it’s years as an educator that have made my brain think and write in chunks, in chapters or stories. There’s usually an overarching theme, but truthfully, Dear Reader, I rarely start with it; the theme emerges. When I first began jotting down the stories for this particular book, they were about episides in the gospels when I wondered, “Wasn’t that funny to Jesus?” No, I’m not being irreverent, that’s just how my brain works. The working title at that point was, …and Jesus laughed.
But if Jesus could experience humor, why couldn’t He, Divine as He is, experience frustration with those around Him, in His humanity? We’re told over and over that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:4), so He could experience life through our emotions. That includes humor, frustration, anger . . . the good, the bad, and the messy.
Let’s be honest. Has there ever been a time when you just wanted to smack someone upside the head? Maybe that coworker who seems to spend half the day in the restroom and the other half outside on a smoke break. Or maybe an in-law that can’t seem to remember your name after twelve years in the family. You know what I’m talking about.
There’s no doubt about the patience and compassion of Jesus. But when we intentionally slow down while reading the gospels, we see the likelihood of Jesus’s humanity being sorely tested, even by those closest to Him, like the time Peter actually tried to correct Jesus:
Then Jesus made it clear to his disciples that it was now necessary for him to go to Jerusalem, submit to an ordeal of suffering at the hands of the religious leaders, be killed, and then on the third day be raised up alive. Peter took him in hand, protesting, “Impossible, Master! That can never be!”
But Jesus didn’t swerve. “Peter, get out of my way. Satan, get lost. You have no idea how God works.”
This is when the theme began to emerge. This is where I began to dig deeper. This is when I realized, Dear Reader, that I was writing a love letter to my child who may never chose to read it.
My beta team thought the voice and tone of the manuscript were too harsh and worldly at times. They repeatedly tried to get me to soften interactions and language to the Sunday School version of our childhoods. But that’s not the world we live in today, that’s not the world that screams and snarls at us trying to rip our children from the safety of God’s Word.
I was writing for my child, for a dear friend who continually turned away from the saving grace of Jesus. I wrote for those who had rituals of religion crammed down their throats, for those who had never darkened a church door. I wrote for those who were disillusioned or disenfranchised by the church. I wrote for those, Dear Reader, who were never shown that Jesus longs to be more than a baby in a manger or a man on a cross. It is that very flesh He chose to live in and among, that makes Jesus totally relatable to us today.
My ambition was to share the most precious thing in the world to me, a day to day, down in the trenches, up on the stage, companion, confidante who changed my life, and gives me hope. Someone who loves me just the way I am, and wants to do the same for everyone on the planet.
For would-be writers, I could lie and tell you that if there’s something that stirs your passion, that’s clawing to get out of your soul and onto the screen, that capturing it will be easy. And maybe it is for others, but not for me. I chose this path, which meant waiting for a “still, small voice” to utter the perfect word, going back and forth between translations, delving into the socioeconomic realities of ancient cultures, and tears running so fiercely that I had to stop typing. I chose it, and I’m glad I did.
The graphic designer, Robin, was unbelievably patient with me in creating this cover. It had to be just right. To me, the figure is not only my child, he is anyone’s child who is still searching for the one that will satisfy without judgment, that will love without boundaries. He is “Everyman.”
Behind the Halo: Exploring the Humanity of Jesus taught me that the sacrifice of Jesus didn’t begin on Good Friday. It began the moment He drew His first breath and released His first cry. Chris Rice’s song, “Welcome to Our World,” creates a poignant picture of the world and flesh that Jesus chose to take on for us. For many years, it was also the signature piece for our musician child during Advent. It gives me hope that one day he willl fully surrender to Jesus. My earnest prayer is that he will discover and embrace Jesus’s longing to be in relationship with him . . . and my spirit will rejoice, whether he ever chooses to read the love letter I wrote for him or not.
Take a look at “If Books Could Talk from July 16.”
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