When do you become aware of just how selfish humans can be? When do you feel convicted of your own personal selfishness? Has a moment ever struck you—perhaps even while praying—when you realized you placed your own desires above what’s best for others?

If I’m honest, this realization probably happens more often than I consciously recognize. But twice recently, the thought hit me clearly: I am so selfish.

The first instance was during lunch. Someone asked how I was enjoying my new house. “Oh, it’s great,” I replied. “I just wish it would rain! I don’t really have the budget to water all the new landscaping, and it was expensive!” Then, from a nearby table, I overheard a comment that stopped me in my tracks: “The farmers really need the rain for their crops too.”

There I was, enjoying a meal I didn’t grow—someone else raised the hog, someone else planted the potatoes—and my concern during a drought was for ornamental plants, not for food or livelihood. That moment convicted me. My first thought wasn’t for others, but for myself.

The second instance was more profound. I was singing along with Stephen McWhirter’s Come Jesus Come, tears streaming down my face:

Come, Jesus, Come / Let today be the day…
We’ve been waiting so long / For the day You return
To heal every hurt and right every wrong…

My heart was pleading for Jesus to come quickly. I was overwhelmed by the evil in the world—children harmed, diagnoses delivered, hearts broken, grief endured. I wanted Jesus to come now. I wanted to be with Him now. The pleading of my heart mirrored what Jennifer Shuldt shares in Our Daily Bread, “On earth, disappointments come in all sizes, both big and small. Beloved pets pass away. Careers fizzle. Health problems occur. We lose relationships with loved ones. In our setbacks, we have God’s comfort, but our life stories don’t always contain the blissful endings we long for.”

But then it struck me: even in that sacred moment, my longing was rooted in selfishness. I already have the hope of eternity. I know that one day, light, peace, and goodwill will abound. But what about the students I see every day? How many of them don’t yet know what they’re missing?

I could write endlessly about my selfishness, but that’s not who I want to be. So today, I confess this entitlement—this tendency to prioritize my own needs—and ask the Lord to change my heart.

Instead of singing Come, Jesus, Come as a plea for His final return, perhaps I should sing it as a request for His Presence here and now. For Him to be real to those who don’t yet know Him. Because we don’t know when He will return. People have been waiting for thousands of years. But each day brings us one step closer to seeing Him face to face.

So as McWhirter sings, One day He’ll come/And we’ll stand face to face/Come lay it all down/’Cause it might be today/The time is right now/There’s no need to wait/Your past will be washed by rivers of grace.

Today, I will selfishly pray Come, Jesus, Come because I long to experience His Presence as a Transplanted Pilgrim walking this earth for as long as I am given, for I don’t want there to be a day that I walk without Him. Unselfishly, I will pray Come, Jesus, Come and make Yourself known to those who are currently unaware of what having a relationship with You means. Please draw them close to You so they may know how precious your love is and may feel the same longing of the words Come, Jesus, Come. 

References:

McWhirter, S. (2020). Come Jesus Come [Song]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UViC6DllCeA&list=RDUViC6DllCeA&start_radio=1

Schuldt, J.B. (2025, August 27). A beautiful ending. Our Daily Bread. https://www.odbm.org/en/devotionals/devotional-category/a-beautiful-ending