I don't want to be entertained. I don't want visuals or

Hear the fervent cry of Anne Graham Lotz, daughter of faith and herald of the gospel, who declared: “I don’t want to be entertained. I don’t want visuals or musicals. I don’t want a vacation. I don’t want to quit. I don’t want sympathy. The cry of my heart is ‘Just Give Me Jesus.’” In these words burns the soul’s deepest hunger—not for pleasure, nor distraction, nor comfort, but for the eternal presence of the Divine. It is a voice stripped of worldly desires, yearning for the only One who satisfies.

The meaning of this declaration is clear and radiant. Lotz rejects the fleeting consolations that so often distract the weary: entertainment, spectacle, ease, and pity. These may soothe for a moment, but they do not heal the soul. She confesses that her heart’s true cry is not for the applause of men or the comforts of earth, but for Jesus—the source of life, the anchor in storm, the balm for every wound. In her cry echoes the ancient truth that all the riches of the world cannot equal the presence of God.

The ancients themselves knew this longing. Consider the words of the Psalmist, who sang: “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs for You, O God.” Just as Anne Graham Lotz turned her heart away from sympathy or spectacle, so too did the psalmist reject worldly wealth and acclaim, choosing instead the living water that alone can quench the spirit’s thirst. This is the lineage of her words: the cry of a soul that sees through illusion and clings to the eternal.

History also gives us the example of Francis of Assisi, who once lived in luxury but abandoned all to follow Christ. He did not ask for riches, nor for comfort, nor for entertainment. He prayed only for union with his Savior. Like Lotz, he declared with his life: Just give me Jesus. His path of simplicity and devotion drew thousands, not because he offered spectacle, but because he bore witness to the one truth that outshines all else.

The lesson for us is profound: we are daily tempted to seek lesser things—pleasure to distract us, comfort to numb us, applause to inflate us. But these are fleeting shadows. The cry of Anne Graham Lotz pierces through the noise of our age and reminds us to return to the source of all peace and purpose. For in the end, it is not entertainment that saves, nor sympathy that transforms, but Christ alone who gives life to the weary and strength to the faint.

Practical action follows: examine your own heart. Ask: What do I cling to for comfort? What do I demand to soothe my weariness? Then, lay it down. Instead of seeking escape, seek prayer. Instead of grasping for the world’s comforts, open your heart to the presence of God. Let your daily cry become her cry: Just give me Jesus. For in that cry lies both surrender and victory, both humility and strength.

So let her words endure, not as the echo of one voice alone, but as a summons to all generations. Turn away from the fleeting and embrace the eternal. Refuse to be content with shadows, and hunger instead for the true light. For when the storms of life rage and every earthly comfort fails, this one truth remains: Just Give Me Jesus. And in Him, all else is given, and the soul at last finds its rest.