When I was around eleven or twelve, my parents started allowing me to “babysit” my younger siblings. I remember the first time they left us alone because they were very strict about the rules and my responsibilities. What I don’t remember is my two younger sisters.
I have no recollection of my younger siblings when I was “in charge” of them. Were my sisters in the house? Probably? Why wouldnât they be?
Whether I was actually alone remains a mystery, but I do remember one particular afternoon while my parents were away because for the first time I felt real pangs from loneliness, and I was fearful in their absence.
The daytime sky quickly darkened, so I broke the rules and stepped outside only to see that the sky was eerily green. I ran back in and sat on the couch watching for my parents to pull in the driveway. As soon as the tornado alarm began blaring, my heart jumped, and I ran down to the basement.
I remember sitting in a corner of the playroom fearfully listening to the pounding rain and screaming wind. What I wanted in those moments had little to do with the storm ending and everything to do with my parentâs return. I didnât want to be alone. I wanted to be in their secure embrace, and since they were not with me, I felt paralyzed with fear because of circumstances beyond my control.
It wasnât long ago that I sat on our deck with similar emotions. Watching a storm brew, I felt very much like that young child again, desperately wanting to retreat to a corner and relent to anxiety and grief. My tears streamed as easily as the rain fell. The challenges seemed insurmountable, so I simply pleaded with God for a sense of security and peace, but for several minutes I felt very alone.
Only a few weeks before, my sister (who luckily survived my adolescent neglect) shared an article written by Julie Canlis entitled, âThe Bibleâs Best Description of Salvation Is a Phrase We Rarely Use.â In it, the author beautifully articulates what it means to be âin Christ,” and in my longing that evening, it was this truth that kept penetrating my heart. As I watched the rain fall outside our canopy, I repeated out loud, âI am in Christ; I am not alone in my struggle.â
The Beautiful Reality: We are ‘in Christ’
In Ephesians 1:3, Paul reminds believers of this very reality: âBlessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.â For Paul, Salvation meant that a believer is joined to Jesus Christ, included in Him, so that all Christ receives, we receive.
Do you hear that? All the spiritual blessings that Christ has, we also have. And the way that God sees His son Jesus is the way God sees us. Because of Christâs work on the cross, God sees the righteousness of His own Son when He looks at you, believer. In Christ your sin debt is cancelled, and you are restored in your relationship with God. This is the bottom line of Christianity. When a person gives their life to Jesus, they are united to Him in every. single. way. As the ESV study Bible says, âOur hope is bound up in our being bound to Christ.â Yes, and Amen!
This reality floods into every area of the believerâs life. When the temptation arises to despair or feel alone in struggle, Jesus is as close as your breath. When a job seems unfulfilling, meaning is found in knowing that even our work is done with Christ. Our parenting decisions are not made alone, and when the need arises to have a difficult conversation with a family member, we do so united to Christ. If challenging news is received, itâs received with Christ. When exhausted because of a crying baby, one step is put in front of the other in the strength of Christ.
You are never alone, believer in Jesus. You are united fully and completely to your Savior. His power is your power. His wisdom is your wisdom. His peace is your peace.
The Necessary Response: Abide in Him
Because this is true, our responsibility, by the Spiritâs power, is to Abide in Christ. John 15:1-4 says: âI am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.
To abide in Jesus is to lean more and more into Jesus. Itâs talking to Him throughout the day, meditating on His Word, learning more of who He is and what He has done. Abiding in Jesus is fellowshipping with His saints, hearing the Word preached, and participating in the Lordâs supper. Why do we neglect these gifts God has given us?
At times, abiding in Jesus happens through our intentional love for another person or even our own children. And other times abiding in Him happens through suffering and hardship. Abiding in Jesus is trusting in all that He is and does, even when the road is challenging, even when you feel alone.
But we canât do this by our own strength, which is exactly why we have this picture in John of the vine and the branches. Jesus, the vine, is the only source of power for the branches to abide and grow; He is the only source of life-giving peace.
I am still so often like the child in the basement, crying in my fears, longing for secure arms to assure me all will be well. But this is exactly what Jesus does for us. His union with us is a reminder that we are never alone, and His Words provide all the security we could ever need. Abide in Him, drink abundantly from the well that is His Word, and relish in the provisions of His grace which are daily reminders that you are in Christ; you are not alone in your struggle.
