Once in awhile you hear a song, or a conversation, or
something that prompts you to write.
Yesterday I heard that song. It’s
called “If I Could Have a Beer with Jesus.”
Interesting song title…typical country song, if you are in to
stereotyping music…but if you listen to the words, you will understand.
So obviously it got me thinking…what would I do, If I Could
Have a Beer with Jesus? Obviously I
believe in him, or I wouldn't be writing the blog, so with that in mind, here
goes. In my head I imagine that he doesn't like your standard Coors Light, Miller Lite, etc…I imagine him as more of a
craft beer drinker…if he even likes beer.
Initially I would probably think he was pulling my leg. I mean, what would those odds be? And since I don’t believe anything out of
anyone’s mouth, I would have a hard time believing it. I would NOT ask him to turn water into wine,
or walk on water to prove it; I would just probably say do you even like
beer? Or are you a “spirits” guy? No pun intended Jesus. Seriously though, maybe he likes whiskey at
which point I would have to not only agree, but decline to join him on having
one because I would want to remember the conversation and with whiskey I would
forget. And I imagine he would say he
knows that, all too well.
I would ask him what he was doing there, there with me. Why me?
Probably because I have never given myself enough credit in life to
deserve much, let alone such a visit. I
would ask how much time he had because that could determine the outcome of our
conversation. Like, do I need to ask
about all my friends and family that have passed and how they are? Because I think they are fine and if I really
have his undivided attention there are some other things I would rather talk
about.
I would probably tell him that he looks nothing like I was “taught”
he would look like. I would also tell
him one of my favorite books is “The Five People You Meet In Heaven,” and that
I have always been suspicious that he walked among us like a regular
commoner. At which point I would say, aren't you just that? A common man? Was it hard to be you? With all these people and their
expectations? And I would then get right
to the heart of one of the biggest questions I have always wanted to ask him…Did
you want this? Did you want all these
massive buildings where people are required to go to worship you? Because I don’t think you did. I don’t think that had anything to do with
your mission. And I would say but the
religion I was brought up in said otherwise and that when I was old enough to
make my own decisions, I stopped going to these buildings because I could find
him everywhere. That even if I made bad
decisions I still had his opinion of me in the back of my mind. And that I know enough to know that just
believing in him does not exonerate me from sin, but living my life in such a
way I would have expected him to is what guides me. To love everyone equally. To not assume I know why people make the
decisions they make. To love unconditionally and with an open mind and heart. To love all of God’s creatures. And in my mind, he would say, NO Tiffany, I didn't intend for massive buildings to be built or people be told they had to
go to them to believe in me. If someone
wanted to build these things, it was for people who needed that sense of
companionship, people who needed to be around others to spread my words. That he didn't think everyone would feel this
way as some people find peace alone or with nature, or by doing good
deeds. That it was okay either way. If I needed that in my life that was fine and
if I didn't that was fine. And I would
say I KNEW IT! Thank you…I have needed
to hear that from you for a very long time.
And I would say, are you ready for another drink? Because I tend to drink faster when I am
chatty.
I would say OK Big J…I have some more questions for
you. Cancer. Why?
Especially children. And if we
are only here on loan, how is it decided how long some get to stay, or what
they have to battle while they are here?
Is there a department for that?
It seems like a lot of paperwork, or coordination. Jesus?
Is this really Hell? Right
now? Right here? Our day to day lives? Is that why some things are so incredibly
despicable and wrong and awful? Is that
why what happened to you was so incredibly atrocious (but really just the
beginning of how awful humans can be to other humans), because that was
Hell? And if that is the case, are those
of us that leave here early, or horribly, or who have to suffer, are they
really the lucky ones? HELP ME JESUS. Help me make sense of this. Because all that suffering seems not fair if
that is the case, but if you tell me because where they are going is going to make
that all worth every second, well I may be able to buy into that.
I would ask him if he was sad. Sad to see how far things have come and how
advanced we have become as a society, but sad at how some things just get
worse. Like how easy it is to kill
another human being. How sometimes it
can be so senseless.
I would ask him what he does to unwind. If he is Type A like me. Does he have OCD? Does he sleep well at night or does he toss
and turn? Does he cry and if he does,
what brings a man like Jesus to tears?
In my mind he would answer that with yes, that he does cry and it
happens mostly when we are so horrible to our fellow man. That he knows he has no control over diseases
and stuff like that, and really doesn't have control over our own personal
actions either but that it brings him to tears when we treat others poorly,
because we choose to do that. We make a
conscious decision to bully, belittle, demean, berate, verbally, mentally and
emotionally abuse. Those are the times
he cries. And I would say me to Big J…me
too…
And eventually he would say, Tiffany, I need to move along,
I have many beers to drink…you aren't the only one and I would say you know
what, I figured, I couldn't be that lucky.
And I would thank him for his time and I would say I still can’t believe
you picked me and he would just smile and put his arms around me and not pat,
but hug, like the hug from Jesus I always imagined it would be. Home.
It would feel like home.
I would say, one more thing Jesus, then you can go…I know, I
know, you are very busy. But I need to
know this. It’s like the only thing I
have ever really wanted to know from you…
Are you disappointed in me?
Have I failed you? I mean, I love
everyone, equally until they give me a reason not to. But I don’t love in the traditional sense, or
the way I was taught I was supposed to.
It’s not that I don’t find men attractive, that’s not it at all, and I
find some men incredibly attractive. But
I also find women to be the same way.
And I live in a world where until really recently, this was not
approved, condoned, believed, etc. In
fact, my religion calls me an abomination.
And I can’t imagine having the heart that I have or the compassion I
have or the empathy I have in my heart and yet be considered an abomination because
of the sex of the person I choose to love.
I cannot wrap my hands around that?
I mean why do people care? If I
am not affecting them, why do they care?
Is it because they were told it was wrong? And who made that choice? God?
Because I don’t believe in a God that created us all the same. I believe in the one who made us all
different and who wanted to SEE IF WE COULD embrace one another’s differences
and if we couldn't well, then that would be our own private hell. But honestly, once I loved myself, I no
longer cared what others thought, but I do care what you think. I cannot stand to be disappointed or to
disappoint. So, I really can’t go on if
I have in some way disappointed you.
And because I am the type of person who NEEDS an answer, who
needs confirmation and affirmation, and who likes to talk and break things
down, I imagine he would be very vague and cryptic.
I imagine he would smile at me, and my God he has a
beautiful smile, and he would say you already know the answer to this
question. You have always known the
answer. Thanks for the beer. And tell your mother I said hello.
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