The Runaway Muse


A personal blog

Who is Jesus?

I wish I knew how to answer this question.  All my life I have been taught to believe in him, and yet when the moment comes to describe him in a single paragraph, my mind draws a blank.  How does one describe a figure so precious to some and so ridiculous to others?

When I write the words “Jesus is God’s son come to earth to die for the sins of humanity”, they seem a bit far-fetched even to me, like something from a comic book.  How can I explain the inner feeling I have (except “feeling” is too feeble a word) that there is a God and that He loves us?

In my state of questioning, my muddled brain remembers that I wouldn’t be breathing right now if it weren’t for Jesus.  I use His name cautiously because I’m not even sure it is the word I’m looking for.

I remember the days of never-ending darkness, the chains of hopelessness and pain that would wrap themselves around my scarred and pitiful body day after dismal day.  I cannot remember the exact moment the light started piercing through, but I remember first beginning to see.  I remember slowly climbing out of the pit until at last I could stand on my own two feet again, and I remember thanking Jesus.  Jesus. But just who is he, exactly?

Such is the question I was asked in an application I was filling out to work at a Christian camp over the summer.  After thinking about my answer all day, I have only come to the conclusion that I have none.  What would I tell someone who had never heard about Jesus and asked who he is?  Or someone who knew who he was but had scorned him as a fairy tale?  I’m ashamed to say that I would probably be tongue-tied.

I believe that there is a Holy Spirit that guides us through life.  I have heard its voice in my head and have seen it move in myself and in other people.  The acts of God are plain to see for those who look.  Why then am I having such a hard time defining Jesus in my life?

The Enemy knows that I am susceptible to doubt, so he never gives me relief from it.  As I type these words, I find myself wondering how I would react had I lived two thousand years ago when Jesus came to earth.  Think about this: you are living your day-to-day life when all of a sudden there is this ordinary man who preaches radical messages that nobody has ever heard before.  What’s more, he claims to be the actual son of God. How crazy can you get?  And yet, people flock to him en masse. Crowds are enamored with him, and many say that what he teaches is true.

My problem is this: if such a thing happened today, I don’t think I would believe it.  I mean, it’s crazy.

Therefore, if I wouldn’t believe it if it happened today, what’s to say I wouldn’t believe it if I had lived back then?  Would I still be a Christian?

I realize that this tirade is quite pointless.  However, I find great relief in letting my thoughts channel themselves into words.  I am not looking for an answer (thus opening the floodgate for an flaming theological debate).  Instead, I want to know if there is anyone out there who, like me, is wondering for the first time how well they know Jesus Christ.

This is what happens when I am sleep-deprived and pumped full of caffeine.  Later, folks.


Filed under: Everyday Ramblings

5 Responses

  1. martha says:

    I struggle with the same thing quite often.
    But the first thing that comes to mind right now, is that it doesn’t really matter if we sometimes feel like we don’t know who Jesus is. Because he knows beyond doubt who we are. He never questions this for a second, and I think that’s a really comforting thought. No matter how much I doubt and how far away I drift, I can always come running (or stumbling) back to him. He’ll be there waiting, patiently and lovingly.

  2. Liz says:

    i wrote about this same thing my sophomore year of highschool. you should stop by sometime and read it. every time i reread it, it ignites a new hope in me that we will never need something/someone that Jesus can’t be for us.

  3. svenoblivion says:


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About the girl

Christina. 18. College student. Lover of words, sublime images, fat books and skinny jeans. Dislikes melting snow, the color pink, and procrastination.

This blog is an outlet for my jumbled thoughts. Thank you for stopping by.

Runaway-Muse @ Flickr

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