Yeshu or Yeshua?

As I was cooking breakfast, getting dressed, fixing Scott's lunch, and giving the cat some milk, I was talking to Jesus. Nothing new, but I was just wondering; Does it bug Him that I call Him Jesus?
Ya see, I have been associated with all sorts of “Christian” churches and groups my whole life. I put quotes around Christian. Yes I did. Not all who use the name are in the game, more's the pity.
My first contact with Messianic Jews was back in the '70s. I loved their joy. When one of the young women that came to recognize Jesus told her family, Mama cried “You are no longer a Jew!” That sweet girl hugged her and told her “No, Mama, I am a completed Jew.” When she was baptized, her mother threw a huge celebration meal at their home for our entire church! Don't gasp. It was a small church!
I don't just know people who are Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, and so forth; I am knowledgeable of their specific credos, traditions, and doctrines. We all used the name Jesus. And God. And the Holy Spirit or Holy Ghost.
Now I have been informed that I'm doing this all wrong.
“We use the PROPER name of Jesus, which is Yeshua.”.  “WE use the true name of God, Jehovah.!”  “We use the PROPER name of Jehovah, which is Yaweh!”
I didn't know which wrong I was!  So, I asked Him. “Does it bother You when I call You Jesus? Should I be using another language to address You with? And what about all the OTHER words I'm getting wrong when I talk to You!?!? Do I need to look up and learn a bunch of Hebrew words so I get my prayers right? That's gonna put a real damper on our conversations, like being in Paris with one of those little French-to-English dictionaries that are always wrong so you end up in a football game when you wanted a bank! Am I insulting You?!”
He said “No”.
I think I heard a sigh, too.
Why do we come up with the stupidest things to separate the Kingdom of the Most High God of Heaven?  Why do we spit and scratch over what language we're using to address the Love of our lives? There are actually those who will say if you're not using the right names, He's not listening. That is a lie straight out of the pit.
Here's a question for you. Who made up all the different languages that we are using against each other?  I took Latin in high school. It's a good base for understanding any of the Romance languages, scientific names, and solving crossword puzzles (true story!). I learned where languages came from, blah, blah, blah, which I forgot because I already knew.
There was one language on the earth. It was given to Adam and Eve, and they taught their children the same language. They all called God by His name. Because they KNEW WHO HE WAS. Then we became the complete idiots we can be, and He ended up flooding the earth and presenting us with a second chance. Out of that one family (again!) came such a great pride, they decided to build a city and basically barricade themselves so they wouldn't scatter away from each other. Then, geniuses, they decided to build a tower into heaven, once again trying to become what they were never called to be; their own gods.
So, “Us”, says let's just give them different languages (read Genesis 11:7 if that's confusing). That'll slow 'em down. And it did.
So, if the Creator of all that exists; all that ever was, is, and will be; created different languages, no matter why He did it; don't you think He has names in all those languages that HE made? Do you really think He's that humanly short-sighted that He  has to be called a specific way, in a specific tongue, in a specific direction, in a specific position, on a specific day of the week (this could go on all day) for us to be heard? Loved? Accepted? Right?
Ummm, I don't see it. God. My Father. My Abba. My Creator. My Holy Spirit. My Comforter. My Guide. My Jesus. Oh....my Jesus. How I love His name. How I crave His fellowship.
Let's give up our propensity for dividing the family of God, no matter by what pronunciation we use in our daily lives. We are called to come together. The house cannot be divided and stand the onslaught of the world. A Bride cannot be double-minded and be ready for her Groom.
If I found anything in the Scriptures that challenged me to use only certain words or names, I would be writing a whole 'nother story! But I didn't.
So let's stop trying for another Babel division. He only did that because we were going the wrong way again.
Let's work together, to bless one another. To encourage each other to cry out to Jesus, or Yeshu, or Yeshua, or however you want to pronounce His name.
As long as we are still crying out.

I think I shall eat pomegranates

I Think I Shall Eat More Pomegranates

When I picked up my Bountiful Basket this morning, I was happy to see the onions in there. I was out of onions and that is a disaster in my kitchen. I looked over the basket, full of healthy glee, until....uh-oh. Two pomegranates. Well. They aren't really huge, so...hmm. Wish they were kiwis.

You have to understand. I really like pomegranates. I don't care anything at all for kiwi fruit.                      I haven't been feeling well because I've had a head cold for two weeks, and the thought of trying to navigate a pomegranate is overwhelming.

A kiwi? Well, if you're like my son John, you just wash it and eat it, fuzz and all! (In my mind that would be like eating a mouse.) BUT, it is definitely a low maintenance fruit. Wash it, whip a peeler over it a few times, and ta-da! Not overly juicy, so no napkin needed.

But...a pomegranate? That takes a few dishes, a spoon,a knife, a napkin, a pot of tea and an uninterrupted afternoon.

I'm sick. Scott's at work. No one has called to need something. Fine. I'll eat the stupid pomegranate.

I don't care how you open a pomegranate, it is still work. I sit down with the afore stated accoutrements and begin. The pom doesn't look that inviting. It's a tad weathered. There are some brown spots from bugs or birds or hail or who knows.  It isn't the bright red you see in the supermarket ads.  Oh well, I said I was going to do this.

As I slice around the outside of the fruit, I notice how dry it seems. Funny, for I know what lies inside. White, sharp flavored seeds full of nutrients; things that I cannot remember, but I know are so very good for me! Each seed is covered with an aril; a tasty pocket of delight! As I separate them from the membranes, it's like dropping fat rubies in a bowl. Sometimes the seeds are really strong tasting, so the sweeter arils make them easier to swallow. But I love them! The crunch! The bite of the seed! The pop of the aril as I chew! In comparison, the kiwi becomes just a pale green little ball with black spots in it.

It's true. Sometimes I chew lightly, breaking open the juicy aril, but spitting out the seed. I enjoy it, but in my heart and mind, I realize I've disposed of the part that really feeds my body.

Maybe I shoulda had a kiwi.

I was getting to the pickup site later than usual, so I prayed, “Lord, set aside the right basket for me today, please.” And, it was the right basket. It had the onions I was missing, the apples we like best, a  perfect lettuce, etc. And two pomegranates. No kiwi.

Then, I realized why.

My life with Jesus Christ is like choosing a kiwi or a pomegranate. I can pray a little prayer, go to church, do a rite or a good turn, smile and say the “right” thing, and live a kiwi life. Pale, easy to do. Not a lot of work and you're done for the day!

A pomegranate life is different. It may not look like much on the outside. It's not always as pretty as the one next to it, but it has the same properties. Inside, where it counts, there is treasure. The seed that you must take in to receive all that it holds. The juicy aril that carries the sweetness.
Like I said; sometimes the seeds are strong, even bitter. But they are soooo good for me! To get the best out of them, I have to bite down, chew, and swallow them. I  have do the work to gain the reward. I can drink off the juice covering them and spit them out, but I would be missing out on what nourishes me.
I can just drink the juice of the aril and it is good for me too, but it's not the full deal. It is okay, but not fully beneficial.

I want everything God has for me. So I am going to have to stop my kiwi life. Reading a daily devotional and a Sunday School  or Sabbath lesson during the week, and calling it good just won't make it any more. No muss, no fuss, is fine for an ad slogan, but not for a healthy relationship.

Living fully for Jesus Christ, digging into the scriptures, is like eating pom seeds. Sometimes it's bitter, especially when we see something of ourselves that need attention. Sometimes it's like crunching down on a revelation from the Holy Spirit, strong and fulfilling. And, like the flavor of the aril, there is sweetness in the love of God for us, His treasures on earth. It flows through every page, every thought is of, and for, us.

I think I shall start eating pomegranates.