“I am an apostle of Jesus.” Allow your mind to wrap itself around that little phrase for a minute.
apos·tle noun \ə-ˈpä-səl\
: any one of the 12 men chosen by Jesus Christ to spread the Christian religion
: someone who believes in or supports an idea, cause, etc.
1 : one sent on a mission: as
a : one of an authoritative New Testament group sent out to preach the gospel and made up especially of Christ’s 12 original disciples and Paul
b : the first prominent Christian missionary to a region or group
a : a person who initiates a great moral reform or who first advocates an important belief or system
b : an ardent supporter : adherent
: the highest ecclesiastical official in some church organizations
I don’t think I would ever just spit out “I am an apostle of Jesus.” It sounds so high and mighty, like bragging I’m better somehow, particularly when I know am anything but better than.
But when I looked more closely at the definition, I can firmly agree I am someone who believes in, supports ardently the cause of Christ.
I want people to know how much Jesus loves them, so much He left His throne, was born into a baby, grew up with us, ministered to us, healed us of our afflictions, showed us the way, and died to take away our sins so that we could be reconciled to God.
Why would He do this? Why would He do this knowing we would be the ones to betray Him, crucify Him?
I am a sinner. I have a love/hate relationship with people. I let people down on a regular basis, expecting grace in return, but don’t extend grace to them when they let me down.
He called me to follow Him anyway, pick up my cross, be an apostle. And somehow, despite being the worst sinner I know, He chose me to believe ardently in everything He is.