35 years ago today, a guy called Steve asked if he could sit down and talk to me about Jesus. And Jesus? He said, Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest.
I was 19, nearly 20, and had been struggling for nearly 2 years with what I would later discover was a mental illness called OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (I'm self-diagnosing here but I think it's a pretty secure diagnosis). I had only told one person the smallest amount (Garry Fenley, God bless you, God bless you for your unflinching friendship and love - you can never know how much it meant to me) and it felt like it was killing me.
The closing months of 1982 and then into 1983 were the darkest of times. A longing to escape, somehow, whatever that might mean or take. Hiding as much as I could of the devastating impact of a broken and lost soul. No hope; only chasms of despair and loss.
The OCD wasn't the real issue, though, strange as that sounds. It was how my deepest fears and insecurities found expression and exercised control - fears about death and the power of evil and layer upon layer of guilt and shame. And the longing to be known and to belong and to be embraced at the deepest level of being.
I thought I'd reached a place of peace for a couple of months (the power of a first girlfriend is quite something) but nothing had changed, not really and not at all. And I was just beginning to sense that. If the edge of the cliff had come close before, this time would be closer still.
And Jesus said, Come to me and I will give you rest. Rest from all my fears and rescue from the choking despair.
What did Steve say? In all honesty I don't remember but everything changed that day. Jesus who died to overcome death. Jesus who experienced all the horrors of evil powers and faced them down. Jesus who shouldered my shame. Jesus who reached out in love and mercy and embrace. Jesus who sets prisoners free.
I've loved the stories in the gospels of Jesus meeting people and making them new. The man possessed by a legion of demons in Mark 5 who cannot even ask for help - Jesus sees him, delivers him and he re-enters society as a man who can tell how much the Lord has done for him. The leper in Mark 1 - he knows Jesus can help but he doesn't know if Jesus would want to. And why would he want to help a man buried so deep in shame and exclusion? But he said, I am willing; be clean.
I so wish I could tell this better, because the love of Jesus is deeper and more glorious than these few words could tell. But here's an old hymn that describes a little of what I discovered those years ago; maybe it will be part of your story too?
Out of my bondage, sorrow, and night,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into Thy freedom, gladness, and light,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of my sickness into Thy health,
Out of my want and into Thy wealth,
Out of my sin and into Thyself,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of my shameful failure and loss,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into the glorious gain of Thy cross,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of earth’s sorrows into Thy balm,
Out of life’s storm and into Thy calm,
Out of distress to jubilant psalm,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of unrest and arrogant pride,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into Thy blessed will to abide,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of myself to dwell in Thy love,
Out of despair into raptures above,
Upward for aye on wings like a dove,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of the fear and dread of the tomb,
Jesus, I come; Jesus, I come;
Into the joy and light of Thy home,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of the depths of ruin untold,
Into the peace of Thy sheltering fold,
Ever Thy glorious face to behold,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
