We often speak of missions primarily as a command.
And it is.
But if that is all we say, mission can begin to sound like a burden—another Christian duty we must fulfill.
The New Testament feels different. Mission begins with an explosion of joy.
Jesus Christ, rejected and crucified, is alive! How could such news be suppressed?
The first Christians did not merely speak because they had been commanded to speak. They spoke because they had seen the risen Christ and could not keep quiet.
The Great Commission is a command. But the resurrection makes it a joy.
Mission is resurrection joy spilling into the world. “We cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard.” – Acts 4.20
Happy Birthday to my beautiful wife, Jenny! I have been studying this woman for a very long time now, and after nearly 33 years of marriage, I have reached a few fairly definitive conclusions. First, I love red hair. I mean, I probably love red hair because I love her red hair … but at this point, I’m not sure the two can be separated. She is, after all, my standard for beauty.
I love her smile. I love her affection. I love her wisdom and her wit. Everyone thinks Jenny is so sweet – and she is. She really is. But I also know the Jenny who can be quick with a comeback, sharp with her teasing, and who can, on occasion, come up with something so unexpectedly salty and silly that I’m left wondering, “Where in the world did THAT come from?” 😂
She makes me laugh. Sometimes she laughs at my jokes. Sometimes she just rolls her eyes. Which I have learned to accept: the problem in those moments is obviously with the audience. Honestly, I love that after all these years, we still laugh together. We still flirt with each other. We still enjoy “sporting,” as the Bible calls it. 😏
But there is so much more to this woman I love. I watch her pour herself out for others every day. She loves children – all children. She cares deeply about the women in our church. She notices the widows and loves on them. She serves. She sings. She gives. She cares. And before so many others ever receive anything from her, she faithfully spends time with the Lord. I see that too. I see the woman everyone else sees – the beautiful, sweet, caring Jenny.
But I also get to see more. I get to see: The funny Jenny. The affectionate Jenny. The feisty Jenny. The tired Jenny. The praying Jenny. The woman who has poured out so much of herself for so many people for so many years.
And I get to experience something that perhaps no one else fully sees: This woman makes me stronger. There are times when I feel weak, uncertain, or lacking godly confidence – and somehow her love, her affection, her presence, her respect & care toward me – help me stand firm and stand tall. I don’t know if she even knows how often she does that. So on her birthday, I don’t merely want to thank her for everything she does. I want to celebrate her.
Jenny, I still notice you. I still admire you. I still enjoy you. I still want to be near you. Your red hair still catches my eye. Your smile still feels like home. Your affection still means more to me than I can say. And after all these years, I am still crazy about you. Happy Birthday to my beautiful, funny, sweet, occasionally salty, eye-rolling, redheaded wife. You are my delight and my treasure – my “So Much.” And yes, my love… I am still very interested in “sporting” with you, and I don’t care who else notices or sees. ❤️😂 Happy Birthday, Jenny. I love you. X♥️X♥️
Pastor Clegguart Mitchell 