I Lose Stuff in Plain Sight—Do You?

I lose stuff in plain sight. Are you familiar with that experience?

I’ll ask Kathy to help me find something, and within 10 seconds she walks straight to it, picks it up, and hands it to me. It’s frustrating—but also helpful. What it shows is the human ability to miss things that are right in front of our faces.

If we can do that with car keys, baseball hats, and our own cell phones, I wonder if it’s possible that we do that theologically as well? I believe that we do.

After reading Ephesians chapter 1 today, I was struck by some familiar phraseology—language I’ve sung, preached, and prayed. But I think I’ve missed something.

One of the things I often express as an evangelical—someone who loves to share the good news of Jesus—is that we need to invite Jesus into our hearts. That we need to have Christ in us.

And I wholeheartedly believe that is true. As Paul teaches, we are now the temple—not a physical structure, but the place where He resides. We invite Christ into our lives as the One who stands at the door and knocks.

But Ephesians 1 challenges me to see that this is only one side of a two-sided coin. At least twelve times in that one chapter, there’s a reference to being “in Christ” (in some form or another).

And while that’s related, it’s also completely different.

To have Christ in you is to have Him hidden behind you and coming out through your life, your words, and your opportunities.

But for you to be in Christ is for you to be hidden in Him—submerged in the depths of His grace, plunged in the power of His person, and drenched in the likeness of Him.

Yes, they’re connected, but my nearly exclusive view of “Christ in us” has severely limited the immensity and glory of living a life in Him.

I have a grandson who’s turning one. He’s not afraid of much, but when he is, he clings tightly to his parents—or, if I’m privileged enough to be around, to me. He will literally bury his head against you and try to hide behind you.

To be in Christ is to have that privilege. To not just have your own strength fortified by Christ in you, but in moments of temptation, fear, weariness, or weakness—to literally bury yourself in Him. To hide behind Him. To be… in Him.

I know it’s a nuance—but I think the nuance is worth remembering. For those of you who have asked Christ into your heart and know He is in you, spend a few minutes meditating on the joy of the God who invites you to be in Him!

Plunged beneath the depths. Submerged in the intensity. Protected by the wall of Christ Himself.