| I am a follower of Jesus. I’ve considered myself a Christian for many years; I grew up in the church, I was a good little conservative home-schooled girl. I did all the right things and said all the right words. And then I began to recognize Jesus. Not Christian values, not theological ideals. I saw Jesus. I saw Him in my Maddox girls, in Asheritah who desired with all her heart to follow Him literally wherever He led. In my roommate, who put up with me and my messiness and my complaints and always loved me anyway. In Leanna, with her amazing ability to turn a phrase and her incredible love and honesty and desire to follow Him. In Jenna, who often collapsed in giggles with me and just as often listened carefully to my doubts and assured me that she looooooooooves me. In Ali, with her absolutely gorgeous and maddeningly in-tune voice which she often exercised to my great delight, and her ever-ready open ear to listen to my babblings and offer encouragement and sympathy. In Christie, who held me as I sobbed out my brokenness on her shoulder. I saw Him in my music people. In Dr. Curlette who faithfully took prayer requests every single morning, and just as faithfully thanked God for His love and care in every prayer. In Dr. Winteregg who gave us cookies and teased (me) for my rolling backpack and encouraged us that we “only had two more weeks to go!” In Mrs. Porter, who can make the most AMAZING birdcall I’ve ever heard in my life, get our eaten money back from the vending machine, and pretty much see into our souls at a glance. In all my beloved and wonderful fellow music majors. Oh, I cannot tell you how much your friendship means to me! Our dinners are, to me, as clear an indication that there IS a God out there who is LOVE and PEACE and who longs to reconcile us to Himself as any I’ve seen. Whit, Renee, Evan, Jonathan, Carolyn, Heather, Michelle, Elizabeth W., Elizabeth P., Hannah—all of you. You know who you are, and each of you has shown Christ to me. I treasure each of you! In Dr. Mortensen, who is not afraid to live loudly for One Who is not of this world? I cannot count the times I have seen him, perhaps haltingly and not quite sure of himself, but CONSISTENTLY living out his understanding of God’s Love in the context of his calling as a pianist, composer and Teacher, and also in his role as part of the local Body of Christ simply trying to live the Kingdom Life on Stanton street. In my beloved Midtown. It’s at Midtown that I learned that Jesus hung out with the sinners, the marginalized, the addicts, the homeless, the downtrodden, his crazy group of disciples who half the time had absolutely no idea what He was talking about—Midtown has shown me that I AM LOVED and I AM VALUABLE. This wonderful and unlikely community of overly educated professors and college students who honestly and truly try their darndest to be Family with addicts (current and past), alcoholics, poor and down-on-their-luck, and all their precious, PRECIOUS children. These hands have reached out to me and shown me a Love that loves me simply because I EXIST, even when I scramble with all my might to get AWAY. The many times I have seen Christ in you—I have seen a professor with a doctorate hug a man who likely didn’t finish high school as a brother. I have seen Mortensen continue to play his whistle for three extra minutes as an old man hobbled to the front of the sanctuary, the last to take the Body of Christ broken for us, the Blood of Christ poured out for us. I have seen you visit the widow and lonely in their distress, feed the hungry, love on the children of addicts and their mothers, comfort the sick. I have seen you put on a rip-roarin’ good PARTY with food and music for any and all in the most unlikely of circumstances. I have seen you transformed and transforming by the Power of the Resurrection, and I have been changed by that same Power. Praise be to God! I am learning that Jesus is not who I thought He was, and not who I often want Him to be. He is untamable, wild, totally STRANGE, ridiculously compelling—in short, God. And, most amazing of all, He is what I NEVER would have thought God would be—He is LOVE. And at times I shrug my shoulders in total amazement and sometimes wonder what the heck I’m doing trying to do this whole Christianity thing. And then I see Him again—Christ in the funny disguise of the people He left to occupy until He returns. --I called my friend on the phone, discouraged and disheartened. She had a migraine. Oh, nevermind then, it’s not a big deal. This isn’t a convenient time. It’s not a matter of what’s CONVENIENT, it’s a matter of what’s NEEDFUL, she responded. Her voice became gentle. What’s the matter, sweetheart? I talked to Christ on the phone, and He had a migraine. --I attended a workshop for folk dance on a rainy, humid day; thus, it was indoors. A man was scheduled to demonstrate good old flat-foot Southern dancing. As the fiddle started up, he stood, moving his foot as the rhythm seeped into his soul. Then he lifted up his foot, and started dancing with total abandon, his lanky body bouncing and jumping in the space we’d cleared for him. The music ended, and he finished; I sat with tears in my eyes. I watched Jesus dance a southern flat-foot dance. --I volunteered at the Community Dining Room (oh how I love you, you friggin’ Place of Reality!) There were lots of volunteers, so I didn’t have a whole lot to do. Twelve-o-clock rolled around, and there were plenty of people to serve meals. I saw a man with an instrument case walk in—he had a cane and sunglasses. What instrument do you play? Mandolin. I’m a musician too—studying music ed in college. Do you know of the town scholarship? You should look into it. I’ll mention you next time I’m at the board meeting. Ok, thanks! Good to meet you! I began looking for empty plates to bring to the dishwasher. He took out his mandolin, tuned, and began singing. His loud, slightly flat voice rang through the room as the diners listened—Jesus is King, and He’s coming back! I sat and listened. He finished singing his benediction over us, and got up to leave to the polite applause of the diners. I watched Old Blind Jesus play His mandolin at the Community Dining Room. Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et in semper, et in sæcula sæculorum. Amen. |
