Riding With Jesus in My Minivan

I love a good kiddo story.  One of the silliest I ever heard was from a little latino boy named Fernando.  He was five years old and had just moved from Mexico, enrolled in our school, and was full of life in his tiny little frame.  I taught English as a Second Language and the kids were so relieved when they found out I spoke Spanish.  Well, surrounded by only English speakers and no friends, this little kid had saved up stories and words all day long and when I picked him up for class he just started speaking the most precious tiny Spanish sounds I have ever heard.  Non-stop. He told me a story about his chicken back home that flew at him and landed on his head.  He couldn't stand how funny the story was to him and fell out of his chair laughing.  I laughed so hard too and knew this kid and I will get along great.  And we did. And he started speaking English super duper fast. Probably because he wanted someone to tell that silly chicken story to.

I hated teaching. Yes hate is a strong word.  And then I got my Masters degree in the profession I hated.  (Wise move, eh?) But I loved ESL because I could get away with puppets, games, pictures, and songs.  No one knew what or how I should be teaching so we played.  They learned, sure, but we had a blast.  I loved it.  And I loved those kids.  I taught kids from lots of different countries.  Lots of different socioeconomic classes, family education levels, housing situations.  It was fun.  It moved me to tears at times.  I interpreted for conferences, helped a mama learn to read, and gave parenting advice (Lord help me. Having no kids of my own then no telling what I said!).  And I was a fill-in mama.  Yep.  Lots of mamas and daddies couldn't make it to everything.  No sick days. Hourly wages.  Family to feed.  So Christmas time I made my rounds to classroom parties and plays and clapped, and hugged, and stuck right by those little ones sides so they wouldn't feel ashamed that they were alone.  So they knew they weren't odd.  Out of place.  

Lonely.  That's a terrible emotion.  There have been times I have felt lonely surrounded by a plethora of people.  I met with a good friend recently. She's depressed. She's anxious. And she's lonely. And it seems to be her lifelong struggle.  She asked me if I though God was punishing her for something she did.  I answered a resounding, "No! That's what Satan would have you believe." (oh no, she brought him into it.  Yes I did.  And God be the glory great things he has done.  And no I didn't use the SNL church lady voice when I said it.)  Knowing this is a Jesus follower, I just started quoting Scripture.  There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. And others.  I am not a counselor or pretend to be one, but let me tell you the Bible is living, breathing, enemy fighting machine.  And I told her to surround herself in community, people who love her, and memorize Scripture.  She will pray. I will pray. And one day, God will make it right. 

Peek into my life...the past three years have been hard.  (Maybe one day I will be crazy enough to blog about it.)  There is one night A couple of years ago I remember so closely it gives me chills.  I was crying in bed, feeling sad, lonely, and then a bizarre thing happened.  I was overwhelmed by the presence of God.  Literally.  I felt like I could touch him.  I sat up and and thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever felt.  He reached down to me, filled the entire waste of space 14 foot ceiling room up with his presence.  And I thought, Lord, I will not doubt you.  You are real and I am not alone.  I am going to practice living in your presence.

 I loved God, sure, but didn't always practice him being with me.  He wants a relationship with me.  So badly he was willing to send his Son Jesus to die for me.  For my heart.  The sin.  The vile nature we all possess.  It is too good to be true. But it is.  It's called grace. God's Riches At Christ's Expense. It's a gift. You gotta accept it. And be willing to follow. But the more I know his nature the more I want to follow. He is that good. I'm never alone.

I was driving down the highway in my minivan the other day.  By myself I turned on the radio.  It was a song talking about walking together.  And I looked over, and I think I saw Jesus.  Pretty sure I did, hair all Pantene blowing, smiling at me.  He laughed.  I smiled.  Walking together.  Best place to be.