The Point Of Return Is Walking Right Beside You

​There is nothing like divorce, or other turn-life-upside-down events in life, to make you question how on earth you ever got here. And from there, it's really easy to start beating yourself up in that place, and then quickly come to believe you somehow missed the road to getting to where you were ultimately supposed to get to in life.

The road you start walking from there can get challenging and unhealthy.

I have walked that road.

There's a story in the bible about two disciples walking back home to Emmaus after Jesus had been crucified. They were talking about all that had happened, about their disappointment that the one who was crucified, Jesus, wasn't who they thought he was; the one they believed had come to redeem Israel was now dead.

The bible goes on to tell us:

As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him.

Jesus asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”

They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, “Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?”

“What things?” he asked.

(Jesus, the one who had felt the nails of those events, now asking what happened....)

I won't pretend to fully know the ways of Jesus. I won't pretend to know why Jesus was playing dumb in this conversation with these two; maybe so they would go on to share the full depth of desperation they were feeling on the road to Emmaus?

Maybe to set the stage for the miracle they would feel the moment they realized that all they thought was missing in their lives was walking beside them the whole time?

And maybe to remind me, and you, that when we get to feeling like we've missed the road, we are actually ON that road. Maybe to remind us that when it gets to feeling like Jesus has left us in some point of no return, it is Jesus who is actually walking beside us and guiding our every next turn toward the point HE desires to return us to.

I don't know why Jesus disguises who he is sometimes.

I don't know why divorce can look like Jesus disappearing, but I've been on my road to Emmaus long enough now to know it is NOT because Jesus has disappeared.

Sometimes Jesus is quiet.

Sometimes Jesus doesn't look like all the centuries old drawings.

Sometimes Jesus just wants to be that friend, asking, what things?

So that Jesus can say, in his own time and way, I know all the hurt that comes with those things, but those things are not the final things.

When they got to Emmaus, Jesus and Cleopas and the other were eating dinner. And the bible tells us:

When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”

Sometimes Jesus shows up looking like bread. Sometimes as a sunrise or a sunset. Sometimes as a beautiful song that fills a room.

I simply have come to know, on this road to Emmaus, the moment I get to lamenting the death of Jesus, Jesus shows up to remind me he is still very much risen.

And as we head in to this week of giving thanks, there is nothing on this road to Emmaus that makes me feel more grateful.

Nothing that makes my heart burn more with love within me.

Wherever you are, you are not beyond the point of return. If you'll look for it, the return is walking right beside you.