I knew what Jesus looked like. His picture was on the back of my pocket mirror. I had won this trinket quite handily at Sunday School. Chipmunk cheeks chock full of Hubba Bubba bubble gum, I had blown more bubbles in one minute than any of the other third graders.
Never questioning the accuracy of this visage, I thought Jesus looked a bit like a hippie. His light brown hair fell in perfect, soft waves to his shoulders. He was looking slightly off to the side like one of those bad 70’s school photos. I think the artist was shooting for an angelic look, but instead, the sad, blue eyes just looked fragile.
Browsing the aisles for holiday inspiration, his voice pulled me from my mental list-making. Soft words flowed from his lips in an unintelligible stream. This babbling was strangely melodic with no discernible pauses for breath, and I couldn’t resist peeking around the corner to seek the source. The man stood in front of a display of newly released CD’s, body swaying slightly as he continued muttering to no one I could see.
I have issues. Judging by the vast number of articles and blog posts I read, you have issues too. I’ve watched those Dove commercials on self-perception, and I too have cried because I can relate. I’m talking to the ladies here, but you men would do well to keep reading too. If you can’t relate personally, there is definitely a female in your life with…well, issues.
The first thought to blaze across my consciousness that morning was, “Maybe we shouldn’t go.” It was so clear, and so strong, that I could not ignore it. Frowning a bit, I reached out to silence the obnoxious beeping of my alarm.
As I readied myself for the day, I prayed. If the Lord didn’t want me to go, I reasoned, He could close the doors pretty easily. Going out of town would be impossible for me if one of my babies woke up feeling sick, for instance. Or perhaps my husband’s work would take a turn and require his presence. I entertained notions of narrowly avoiding a fatal car accident or some other cataclysmic event, all because God Himself had warned me not to go. I was willing to listen and snug up in the relative safety of my home, though I’d have felt disappointed for sure.