In the years I’ve followed Christ in a daily way, I’ve heard about Jesus and the chair. For instance, I know of families that for Christmas set a chair for their dinner. It’s His birthday, and they want to be reminded the focus is about Him.
As I type this, I picture something a little different. Jesus IN the chair.
I believe anything about my writing is first bathed in prayer. I don’t write without praying, and I have a team that covers me. The members also share their requests, and we all pray for each other.
Recently one of the members and I looked at the requests and shared our frustration. Some of those requests pop up time and time again, unanswered. At least in our earthly eyes. Some requests involve heartbreak we wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Then there’s just the day-in-day-out prayers. If you send a loved one to school, it’s hard to watch them go. There’s bullying, raised academic expectation, diminished resources, peer pressure.
Even a seasoned prayer warrior is tempted to look at their dented Ephesians 6 armor and question if this all is even worth it.
It’s at that moment I saw Jesus IN the chair. When my children travel to school, Jesus is in the seat in ever class. He’s in the car when our son commutes.
When I want to worry about those facing health challenges, I can see them in the sterile room. But now I also see Jesus in the chair.
In that chair, He is not bored. He’s not frustrated. He doesn’t have that Robert Downey, Jr. eye roll meme that screams, “Oh, no. You again? Are you kidding me?”
In that chair, Jesus is leaning forward in the doctor’s office. Holding hands with the patient. Whispering prayers over them. He’s in the bus seat with a look that exudes I love that person, and also, I’m shielding them.
He sits by me as I write, trying to find the words, fighting the lies that I have no business trying to change lives through fiction, especially romance.
Jesus is in the chair in the delivery room, the prison cell, the rehab center. He’s in the courtroom, the board room, the White House. He’s with the teacher, the janitor, the single mom, the widower.
I don’t know what you’re facing. But of all the things I’ve experienced this year, I can tell you God is present. He is good. And if you’re overwhelmed, call on His Son’s name and picture Him in that chair.
All my books contain a form of surrender, and a chocolate mention. In Match Made in Heaven, Beth struggles so much over unanswered prayer that she walks away altogether. This is a novella I first wrote in the 90’s, and revised and released this year. Beth’s thyroid journey is close to what our family has been through. Check it out!