“I should be eating this with a spoon,” Susan laughed, eyeing her gelatinous smoothie with some suspicion. “Jesus told me to bring you one, but I didn’t. Sorry.” I said. She tipped her face towards me, half amused, half curious.
“Seriously,” I insisted, “I walked past my pot and spoon on my way out the door. Jesus said, “Grab those.” But I said, “No, I have no use for them.” So I guess I robbed you of an act of heaven-care. Sorry.”
You know, I’m realizing I’ve always thought of listening to Jesus’ voice only as doing bold things, taking courageous risks or performing self-sacrificing acts of service.
It’s been taking considerable effort to tear down my task-master idea of God and realign my vision to who he truly is. Holy. Humorous. Highly motivated by love. Ten hundred other things.
Today, I hiked alone through the mist and mud, happy that no one in the world knew where I was. “Go to the dogwood trees. I have a surprise for you.” Jesus whispered.
I could see the dogwoods downhill through a rock jumble and across a stream -just a mist of white several hundred feet off the trail. It’s not my usual habit to leave the trail when no one knows where I am, but remembering the spoon scenario, I obeyed. The dogwood flowers were larger than I’ve seen before in the wild, and within view of their mystical display was a perfect grapevine hammock.
I sat in the vines, looking up at the ever-widening snippets of blue sky, drinking in the lively smells of spring. Harley dozed in the leaves, Jesus spoke rest on the wind and my child heart sang its old song, “You, me and the trees… this is home.” Perfectly content.
A rock scuffled on the trail, and I craned my neck to spy a happy curl of tail. “Aw, someone else is out with their German Shepherd today.” I thought, then, “Nope, that is not a German Shepherd!” Harley’s head shot up and we both stared as a beautiful coyote trotted past on the trail, cheerfully oblivious.
A wild feeling, to see a secretive animal up close for the first time. Something not everyone would care about. But to me, a photo tattooed in the scrapbook of my mind.
Let’s all grab hold of this truth, and act on it: Jesus has our good in mind!
Tear down those hideous altars we’ve built to offer up performance in hopes of buying joy or finding favor.