Thursday, March 7, 2013


"Chicken or steak?" she asked from across my living room.

"What?"  I asked.

"Chicken or steak!  Would Jesus eat chicken or steak?" she asked again.

I rolled my eyes.

"Fish.  Jesus would eat fish and he probably shared it," I insisted.

She thought for a minute before she said, "You don't know that."

It was one of those deeply spiritual moments that keep some people out of Hell and lead others closer to Christ.  Life changing for sure.  Obviously.  

But, it's actually just the kind of discussion I live to have.  

It may not be important what he had, but it matters to me that Jesus ate lunch.  I like the thought that right after he got heartburn, he ran to John the Baptist and told him he knew locusts were a bad idea.  I like that maybe a mosquito bit him one day and he had a private chat with the Father about his decisions at creation.  I feel certain he got tired of walking the same dusty roads in not very comfortable sandals with people who had to occasionally drive him crazy.  And I wonder in those moments if he closed his eyes and remembered how it felt to walk and dance on streets of gold in the ever available presence of his Father.

Maybe his heart skipped a beat as he thought, "I'm here for a little while, but soon I'm going Home."

Did he question his calling?  Probably not.  Did he have some bad days, some fearful times, and loneliness?  Absolutely.  Anyone would feel like that where they don't truly belong.

More than anything, while he was here, he loved.  He did the work the Father gave him wherever he found himself.  Dealing with hard headed disciples, comforting a woman at the well, raising a child from the dead, spinning a hyper kid around telling him, "God loves you!" holding a single rose afraid of what those thorns would mean, weeping tears of blood in the garden, forgiving those that murdered him with his very last breath, and listening from a better place when the veil was torn.  

I can almost hear him shouting to those people, to all who would come after, and to you, and to me, "You have access to my Father now!  Go.  Do what he has for you.  Soon you'll be Home, too."

And if I'm very still and very quiet, I can hear him whisper those things to my own heart.  

The Creator of the universe, the One who is ever present, all knowing, and still interested in in a little life, reaches down to this tiny speck of humanity and invites me to be like Jesus.  To trust Him.  To be like Him.  To love.  

And to be faithful.  

Even in the great big important things.  Even in the small seemingly pointless things.  Even when I don't feel like it.  Even when I do.

Even if it means sometimes the only thing he needs me to do today is share my lunch.


deodate said...

So beautiful Brenda! Oh, how I needed this today, God is good! I'm going to try and hear that quiet voice that speaks to me heart today - thanks for this.

Meredith Gould said...

You're back! Great to read you again.