Jesus, Chucky Cheese, and A Great Moisturizer

Jesus is the most household name I can think of yet he never had a publicist, never had his name in lights, never wrote an autobiography and he never toured the land with a band and a PA system. He didn’t have a non-profit 501c3. He never saved a dime, didn’t have projected goals, well other than one, to die for humanity. His only mission in life was to do the will of his father, to stay in the moment, in the present and walk according to those orders in due time. He was never married, never owned a home, or had to drive in traffic, but I’m convinced if he had he would have been genuinely irritated. He never went to Chucky Cheese or watched television or shouted at a Yankees game, or an Alabama game either for that matter. He was a fairly simple man, with a simple mission. Sent on earth to be the final lamb slaughtered for the shortcomings of our not-so-perfect world, he died willingly, but not without doubts or worries or sadness or despair. He felt all of the feelings we feel, but on a much larger scale, and all at once. When I am feeling lonely, I can remember, he felt lonely too. How would it feel to have all of your friends abandon you at your most needy hour? When I am feeling angry, I get a real kick out of what Jesus’ muscles must have looked like as he turned over the merchants’ tables in the temple with only one hand, kind of like the incredible Hulk before he turned green, a kind and angry way of saying, “Get out. And get out now.” Yeah. When I feel like giving up, I remember Jesus’ last words about the cup being passed from him. When I am living in yesterday or in tomorrow, I remember the magic words “Thy will, not my will be done.” and “Give us this day our DAILY bread”. Not weekly or yearly bread, but bread just for today, that just might have bugs on it tomorrow. When I wake up real early in the morning, when it’s still dark, which is extremely rare, I think, “Yeah, me and Jesus, we’re the only ones up this early. Everybody else must really be slackin’.” When I go to bed at night with my featherbed and feather pillow in my nightgown and my freshly moisturized face in my seventy degrees heated bedroom after taking a long, hot bath, I think…Jesus didn’t even have a place to lay his head and there were no Ramada Inn’s then, and even so, I’m not sure he would have had the seventy bucks. So it’s real concerting when I know that here I have an invisible friend who lived many years ago who apparently and supposedly loves me very much, even though many days I wonder who I am and where I am going and what I am doing. I have this belief, this trust that lives in my chest that everything is going to be alright, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment. And I can curl up with a book knowing that Jesus loves it when I read and sleep comfortably and when I get angry without hurting anybody and when I feel lonely and tell him all about it. It’s kind of like talking to Oprah, if Oprah could be everywhere at every moment and listen intently to every problem and have much compassion, except much much better and instead it’s a big brother who prays for you all night on his knees and asks his father to give you only good things, even if that good thing is a slap on the behind when you need it. And all of a sudden the whole Jesus thing becomes a little more real, a little more tangible and you think he could actually be just sitting right here beside me, right here in this room, like a shadow. A good shadow and you don’t want the sun to go down because you are afraid it might go away, but even then he doesn’t go away you just can’t see him, can’t touch him, but you can talk to him all you want, as long as it isn’t out loud at a nice restaurant. And I begin to realize that all of my searchings, all of my longings, all of my goals and dreams and desires to fill myself up with importance and success and security, are all swallowed up in this unconditional, long lasting, never ending, overwhelming love that is better than husbandry and the best sex, because he is so there for me, on my side, on my team and expects really nothing in return, unless I just feel like telling someone else about how amazing he is and how he has that much love to give around to everybody here on this big planet earth. And when it’s time to go to sleep I close my eyes in peace knowing there is no calamity that can separate me from this love and that no tragedy can swallow it up. And all night, even if I have a bad dream, the good guys win, even if it’s after I awaken. And I get to start over the next day with new things to talk about, new things to dream, new mistakes to make, with all the grace I need to start over one day at a time with no shame or embarrassment or humiliation. And I think. Wow. Now that’s a good God to make such a nice big brother. And I pat my tummy and wonder if it’s a girl or a boy and hope that I can love that child even one iota of that kind of love, b/c I know if I do that child will have a little better understanding of the love of God the creator of the heavens and the earth and us. And the sun shines a little brighter, and the moon a little glowier, and when I burn the toast it’s really no big deal. And a wave of serenity comes over me, even if just for a little while, and I get to experience something new and tell you all about it.