Hangin' with Jesus Musing

I'll admit it: Last week, I slept through church. There. Phew! Glad I got that off my chest. I turned my alarm clock off instead of hitting the snooze button ... and I slept through church. It happens.

So this morning, as I was already awake and getting dressed for church, my brother, lovely human that he is, decided to be a back-up alarm clock. My phone (which doubles as my alarm clock and was subsequently buried under a pillow ...) began singing (because it really can't be called a "ring"), and the voice on the other end -- far too cheerful for that early on a weekend morning, by the way -- commanded me to go hang out with Jesus. Jesus had already been in Ohio this morning, he assured me, and it had been fabulous. So I should go to church, because it was going to be a great day.

And you know what? It was.

For the first time in several weeks, I felt like I got it. And it feels silly to admit something like that; I've been in church most of my life, so why shouldn't I get it? But it's true. Do you ever have Sundays (or weeks and weeks of Sundays) when you sit there, and you know that what the pastor is preaching is true, and you believe the Bible, and you believe that Jesus is the son of God and the way, the truth and the life ... but somehow the meaning, the impact of it all just escapes you ... and so you shake hands with people at the end of service, and you dive out the door (I'm a professional door-diver when it comes to after-church stuff), and you hope that next week, you'll do more than sit there and kind of zone out and that you'll feel something or get something? ... well, this week, I did. Get it, that is. And I even chatted. A bit. And then I dove out the door ... Avoidance is my specialty lately.

The point is: It was good to hang out with Jesus this morning. If you haven't done it for a while, I encourage you to ...

I'm rambling. I think it's time for lunch.