Jesus to me...

It's a pretty comfortable thing for me to express and feel the not-so-pretty emotions. I doubt if anyone would characterize me as 'sugar and spice and everything nice', well, maybe the spice would fit sometimes. I don't generally classify myself as pathetic, but I have had my share of butt kicks during the game of life over the last decade. It has left me with a dose of skepticism and I'm little hard around the edges.

I have found it much easier to remember painful and hurtful instead of being able to easily retrieve joys and blessings.

Today I decided to do life differently. The actions themselves probably didn't look much different, but the sunglasses that I viewed life through were a different shade. I sat in church and watched the sun play hide and seek through the stain glass windows. I noticed babies. I sweetly remembered those two teenagers sitting next to me when they still had baby smells and kissably soft baby toes. I keep quite a distance from their men's size 9 and 10 feet these days. I rubbed the back of there necks, you know, that place in the middle were it indents and the hair grows soft. I breathed in the blessings that I call my own.

Jason Clark,from Vineyard Church, Sutton, UK shared on being 'in the red' in our lives as believers. There are places that I give beyond myself, but my life as a believer is not an area I have felt comfortable sharing with others.

The communion is open, interactive and weekly at Jacob's Well. I've been attending since around Easter and I have yet to take communion. Walking down the aisle and looking someone in the face as they offer me the body and blood of Jesus for my sins is way too personal and feels like a huge commitment; first, to God himself and secondly to Jacob's Well as a community. I have not been in consitent fellowship for over two years and frankly, the idea of becoming a living, breathing part of a community scares the hell out of me.

There is this emotional bubble that rises in the back of my throat when I sense that our time is coming to a close on a Sunday morning. My heart whispers to enter in and partake and let go and every other part of me is yelling at me to "shut up" and sit down because it has never made a difference; the letting go that is. This morning I held onto my heart and eased myself out of the pew before the crowd in my head could protest. I felt the anxiety rise as I walked down the aisle to the altar. I searched for escapes, but none were to be found and something kept drawing me forward. I looked into gentle eyes and heard a sweet voice inviting me to the table, inviting me to re-commune, and I saw Jesus. That man standing before me was Jesus to me.

One the drive home I started thinking about people who have been Jesus to me. Jody was Jesus to me when I was told that I would have to deliver a dead baby. Joe was Jesus to me when he shyly walked into my hospital room and handed me flowers; I barely knew him. Paul was Jesus to me when I was ready to tell God how angry I was with him. Charlie was Jesus to me when I needed to rest my tear swollen eyes in someone's embrace. Pam and Wanda have been Jesus to me as I've walked through the last two years of pain and loss. Jan has been Jesus to me as we learn how to renegotiate friendship. Lisa continues to be Jesus to me as she walks through everyday life. And most recently, Mike and Bill have been Jesus to me when they have sat and listened to me share a piece of my story and made me feel welcome.

I'm going to hang on to these sunglasses. I like the way that life looks like through them and I like the feeling of gratitude in my heart. Right now it's easy to embrace the idea that we are His hands and His feet. Who has been flesh and blood Jesus to you lately?