When we arrived in Macedonia, we were “toast”—worn-out and weary. Conflicts on the outside and fears on the inside—we needed encouragement, and Abba gave it. Titus came as a conduit of grace. His very presence was a joy (Paraphrase of 2Cor.7:5-7).
Lord Jesus, I’m feeling my “unglorified humanity” this morning, so reading of the Apostle Paul’s vulnerability is both freeing and refreshing. If Paul felt frazzled and frayed at times, why wouldn’t we? Thank you for the encouragement you send us at just the right time—in different ways through a diversity of messengers. You’re quite capable of sending ravens and rainbows, manna and miracles, a fish with a coin in its mouth (Matt17:24-27) or 153 net-ripping fish to discouraged disciples (Jn.21:4-12). But most often you come to us through our friends.
I love how Paul referred to Titus: “His presence was a joy.” Titus didn’t put pressure on Paul to be happy, get over it, or change. He wasn’t the kind of “friend” who walks into the room and we feel the need to sit up, be spiritual, or fake “okay-ness.” In Winnie the Pooh-speak, when we’re feeling Eeyore-ish, we don’t need Tiggers showing up—whose “tops are made out of rubber and bottoms made out of springs.”
Jesus, thank you for our Titus-like friends—please make us the same. It’s your kind, non-anxious, judgment-void, encouraging presence they bring us. Indeed Jesus, when you are near, “bruised reeds and smoldering wicks” feel zero pressure to stand tall or “be a sunbeam” for you (Matt.12:15-21). Thank you for being gentle and lowly, not condescending and irritated. Thank you for being a friend of sinners, familiar with grief, and always emitting the aroma of grace. Even as you live in us, so love through us, Jesus. So Very Amen.