Why I Need Jesus

I awoke this morning as I usually do. You know, roll out of bed, rub your eyes, yawn, etc. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Well, except for some pesky callouses developing on my finger tips from trying to learn how to play the guitar. I proceeded to fix breakfast, get dressed, turn on my computer, do a little writing, do a little reading, and bla bla bla. My morning routine was interupted by an elderly black man knocking at the door. He was the electrician. He was an elderly black man, but an electrician nonetheless.

Flashback - In our living room, the two ceiling lights and fans don't work. Something is wrong with the electricity. Hence, we called an electrician.

He tinkered around, flipping switches on and off, holding a little flashlight up to the sockets, and other strange experiments that were meaningless to me. And apparently they were meaningless to him too because he couldn't fix the problem. He called in for reinforcements.

Before he leaves he goes outside and in one last diagnostic experiment, he flips the breaker on the power box. And our electricity shuts down for a split second. And so does my computer. And so does everything that I was working on. Unsaved. Gone forever.

Frustrated and defeated, I turn the computer back on again. It was a song that I was working on and sometimes the program I use to record it can recover your progress. Well, it didn't. Ok, so I lost one song. No big deal. The electrician is long gone and I decide to leave as well. I lock everything up and step out to run some errands. It is about 11 o clock in the AM. I'm out all day. I don't return till 5:45 in the PM.

Upon my arrival, it is obvious that the electrician has returned and was successful. The lights and ceiling fans are running. Of course, all the clocks are blinking and my computer is off again. I turn on my computer, wait for it to load, and reset all the clocks. After I make my way around the apartment and return back to the computer I realize that it didn't turn on. Funny, I thought. I tried again. Nothing. Growing more concerned I got on my knees and tried to find out the problem - is it the power strip, the chord, the actual socket, or the computer itself. It turns out it was the computer. Funny, I thought.

I unplugged it and took it into the next room to hook it up to a socket that I knew worked. Nothing. It wouldn't turn on at all. Then I began to think of what was all on it that was unsaved. My novel. My entire year-long New Testament study. All of my notes on Galatians that I am teaching next week. All of my music. Every story idea, every letter written, every thought or question I've ever written was on this thing. It was no longer funny, I thought. Angry, I felt.

Followed by anxiety, more anger, nausea, frustration, a bit more anger, and despair. The thought of everything being gone shook my soul. Everything. I knew I would never start to rewrite the novel. I knew all of my time lines and character sketches and Bible references would never be replaced. I knew I never would go back and attempt to recreate an entire archive of songs I'd recorded. Everything I have ever done was hanging in the balance, teetering on either being salvaged or tossed into oblivion forever. And in a strange way, I felt like my very being was right there as well. It was at this point that I realized how desperatly I cling to this stuff. Is this idolatry? Or is this acceptable righteous anger? Then that whole debate starts happening in my head. How much do I worship "stuff?" How much of this reaction is appropriate? Downward I spun until I yelled at the top of my lungs until my throat felt like it was bleeding.

The next 2 hours were spent talking on the phone to Compaq, CompUSA, my parents, my friends, Best Buy, and other computer repair companies. Compaq was going to charge me $300 with NO gaurantee they could recover the data. CompUSA charged $100. Best Buy charged $60, and that was just for a diagnosis.

Side note - I don't have any money.

I decided my Best Bet was Best Buy. As I'm lugging this old clunky thing through the store I hear someone call my name. I turned to see a friend of mine, Dawson, approaching. Dawson is in his mid to late 20s. He goes to my church. He works for Campus Crusade. He is a genuinely sweet man. (His wife just had a baby.) I explained the situation to him and tried to hold back the volcanic rage that was growing inside.

"I bet you it's your power supply. Same thing happened to me Sunday night. I bought the part for 25 bucks, replaced it myself and it was up and running in minutes. You just need that part. I can switch it out for you in the parking lot. It will take 2 seconds." I had no other option so I followed him. We bought the part. He replaced it. I took it home. It now works. And all of my information has been since saved onto a disc now.

And in my moment of despair I realized that it is moments like those that evidence why I needed Jesus for my righteousness, why I need him right now even as I write this, and why I will need him in five minutes. My carnivorous heart salivates for everything but him. It grips onto temporal and expendable stuff with white-knuckled intensity. It is shattered into thousands of pieces when I don't get my way. It is crushed when I cannot please someone or they expose their disappointment with me. I worship everything around me: music, literature, sex, sleep, food, alcohol, attention, approval, appearance, and above all, myself. I am truly polytheistic. I worship a pantheon of gods. The words of Revelation 3:17 resound in my head over and over these days - "You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked."

I almost lost my hard drive today. And I lost my mind because of it. What a pitiful wretch I truly am.