By Emily Miller
Have you ever participated in Plexus, Mary Kay, Herbal Life, or some other multi-level-marketing company? If you haven’t, you’ve probably been invited to a party or Facebook page at some point. The internet is full of friends trying to get you to love what they love…
I tried out a shampoo line, six months ago, and it has worked surprisingly well for me. Since it’s been helpful to me, I started telling others about it and this little thing has caused a lot of turmoil in my heart.
You see, not only am I’m fairly skeptical of endorsing products but I am also really selfish, hate rejection, and have a terribly fragile ego. What if people see me as gullible or manipulative? What if a friend’s bad experience with this type of company taints their relationship with me? What if I am foolish and this shampoo really is a waste of time and money? It’s not my job to help my friends have great hair. It’s just hair.
After lots of inner conflict, I went ahead and hosted an online party because I like my friend who sells it, I like how it works on my hair, and my friends could get some great free stuff at the low cost of checking out the page on Facebook.
My mom now uses the shampoo but otherwise I’ve pretty much failed to reconcile the world to my preferred hair-care. Maybe I didn’t explain it well, maybe they had better options, maybe they just weren’t interested… maybe its just shampoo.
What keeps me from sharing the Gospel?
You see, since I came to know Jesus, He’s become my world. He’s my Hope in life, my Hope in death, my Best Friend and constant Help. The way He matters to me makes everything else seem trivial.
I truly believe that without Him there is no hope.
I also believe (and have experienced) that Jesus is worth living for, my joy in the worst kind of pain, and will resurrect me to everlasting life after I die.
If this is true, saying that I need Jesus is a supreme understatement.
Too often I place the Gospel on the same level as a hair product.
Sure it’s great for me, but maybe something else works better for you. I don’t want you to see me as gullible. I don’t want you to feel manipulated into believing what I believe. What if you’ve had a bad experience with religion and our friendship is tainted by my Christianity? What if I’m wrong? It’s not my job to save you, but if the Gospel is true then your eternity is at stake.
What if you had cancer and my preferred shampoo was the cure?
I’d probably still be a coward. I’d be pretty passionate about urging my family and closest friends to use it, but as for the rest of you…. I’m selfish, cowardly, and I’d rather you die with a high opinion of me than have you live thinking that I’m dumb.
We’re all trying to find meaning in life in the face of our certain death (or desperately trying to distract ourselves from this sour fact) and I’ve become convinced that no other worldview compares historically, logically, spiritually, or emotionally to the transforming power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I’m convinced that without His life, death, and resurrection, life is meaningless and there is no hope.
I know from experience that He can forgive your sins, remove your guilt, make you a new creation, be your comfort in sorrow, your meaning in this life, and will resurrect you to unending real life!
Since I believe this is true, I want to love you enough to tell you this supreme understatement: “You need Jesus.”
I started using my shampoo when I saw how my friend’s hair became healthy and beautiful. I started telling others when my own hair started becoming healthy and beautiful.
I believed in Jesus because I saw my parents spend every morning on their knees in prayer, meditating on the Bible, and singing in worship. Their desire for Jesus was satisfied by time with Jesus and it made me want to have the same thing.
They told me why I needed Him, but the way they wanted Jesus was what made me want Him too.
I’m just a hack if I’m telling others to give their life to something I’m not giving my life to.
So, I spend time with Jesus and this time increases my hunger, satisfies my soul, and transforms me into someone who looks a little more like Jesus and a little less like a highly inflated ego.
Time in His Word also equips me to tell the Gospel.
If I fail to explain a shampoo well, the worst that can possibly happen is bad hair.
If I fail to explain the Gospel well, the worst is much worse.
Jesus loves me whether you come to Christ or not. I’m covered by Jesus’ righteousness not by my ability to explain the Gospel well. Nothing I do makes Him love me more and nothing I do can makes Him love me less. Apparently, I was worth dying for and that really should satisfy my tender little ego enough to get me over myself and enthralled with Jesus.
I’m freed up to please Him, to enjoy Him, to be so affected by His love that I love you.
I have my Quiet Time because it’s nice to spend time with Someone Who loves me.
I tell others about Jesus because He loves you like He loves me.
I still won’t explain it as well as I want to, people might think badly of me, they may never be interested… but the Gospel matters.
The Gospel is worth being thought of as gullible, manipulative, or dumb.
The Gospel is worth being ridiculous for because we are ridiculously loved.
The Gospel is worth all kinds of rejection.
Jesus is worthy. (Another supreme understatement.)
So, I’ll keep wanting Jesus so much that you might want Him too.
Emily is a mother of two young children and has little time for much else. She began a daily quiet time at age thirteen, and her relationship with Jesus has remained a constant for Emily as she went from being a missionary kid in Mongolia, to working as a barista in Oregon, to marrying and starting a family in Florida. Emily enjoys writing poetry, dancing while doing housework, watching storms, and laughing at her husband, children, and herself.