Ainsley Britain

“I have to tell people about Jesus.” I had what I thought was a near death experience on a flight once and that was the thought that flashed in my mind.

But what?
About his love, character, miracles?
Christians have done a terrible job at showing those things.
So, maybe about his mercy, his unending love and the grace he extends to even the strongest soldiers on a daily basis.
Maybe people have an idea about the Jesus on the hallmark card, but what about the one in the hospital room or the funeral home? What about the steadiness in hearts during tragedy? What about the Jesus that fills in the cracks of the imperfect children of God because He is the only way some of us are keeping it together?
Maybe I need to talk about the peace that surpasses understanding. Meaning, we don’t and won’t understand it. We were never meant to, and yet.
I can’t say I have embodied this peace perfectly as I tend to crash out on a regular basis, but when I’m consistent with my time in the throne room and when I see God moving in my heart, kids and miracles around me - I feel it. I feel the peace that I can’t understand.

I think that’s what I have to tell people about. That we chase comfortable circumstances but how comfortable could the cross be? (cue pit in stomach) Our misunderstanding of what we think life should look like can cloud our vision in seeing who God is.

I recall feeling this peace very distinctly twice in my life. The two hardest moments in my life, at that.
Walking into the room my Poppa’s casket was propped open for his funeral and walking into my son’s CVICU room after open heart surgery at 3 months old. The worst circumstances. The most unexplainable stillness. These times didn’t come without grief, but they did come with a hope I had never known or had to know before.

I have to tell people about Jesus…
The Jesus that was/is with me in those places. (& for you too)