Walking with Jesus

I want Jesus to walk with me
I want Jesus to walk with me
All along my pilgrim journey
I want Jesus to walk with me

I have been singing this spiritual refrain over and over in my head.  It’s the first hymn we will sing on Sunday.  It is one that has become a favorite since I learned it last year — but more than that, the lyrics speak to a longing in my heart.

As I try to find silence this Lent, more often than not, I realize I want someone to take my hand.  I want someone to guide me into the next step.  I want Jesus to walk with me. I don’t want anyone else’s Jesus.  I want mine.  (Of course, I’m not really sure what Jesus looks like for me right now. I just know that a quick image search on Google forces me to stare at a lot of white men with flowing locks. That’s not my Jesus.)  Still, whatever Jesus looks like, I want her on my pilgrim journey.  This one. Right now.

I was comforted by the words I read last night in this article Staying with Jesus.  Anne Jernberg finds herself singing Taize on Good Friday in a monastery. After hearing a few short verses from our sacred text, the worshipping community is invited to take the role of the disciples. They are invited to stay with Jesus. They are invited to keep vigil for the next 18 hours singing the same English chant over and over again.

On their knees, these monks sing together.  Some don’t last.  Some stay in shifts.  And yet, while Anne sang these words, she realized that Jesus needed her to walk with him.  This hit home for me.  I might sing to myself about wanting Jesus to walk with me — but Jesus needs the company as much as I do.  Though I won’t edit the words on Sunday, I may find myself singing my own refrain on Sunday.  I might just find myself singing: Jesus, I want to walk with you. In truth, this might be the true prayer upon my heart.  I’m the one that is bumbling and confused.  Jesus is already walking by my side. I’m just trying to figure out how to keep pace.