Have You Seen Jesus?

When you picture Jesus, what does He look like? I'm not talking about, is He dark-skinned or light-skinned, Middle Eastern looking with long hair or short, or is He tall and lanky or strong like the construction worker with whom we are most familiar. I'm asking, does He look like someone you'd want to have lunch with at your favorite food truck or someone you'd be happy to have over to meet your pastor. 

In my world, Jesus looks like my mom. And, I'm admitting, that has been difficult. In my world, Jesus bangs on everything-- tables, the dashboard of the car, the windows, the chair cushion. In my world, Jesus has problems remembering how to use the bathroom in a more "civilized" manner. In my world, Jesus only wants to eat sweets. In my world, Jesus can't remember where I told Him to sit just a minute ago, and is constantly searching my face for cues as to what to do or signs of approval. In my world, Jesus wears me out. There are days when I wish Jesus would just leave for a while, find some other friends to hang out with or get a hotel room, fend for Himself. I sometimes think He's doing this on purpose (and maybe He is).

I was reading 1 Peter 4:9 in the Message, today:

Be quick to give a meal to the hungry, a bed to the homeless-- cheerfully.

Our home is our "safe place." Our home is where we are supposed to be able to kick back, relax, be ourselves, and feel refreshed. Our home is where I work for a Jesus who makes me work just as hard one day to the next. Our home is where Jesus doesn't care about the crumbs He's dropping all over the floor or the noise He is making, which gets increasingly louder the more my husband and I try to talk over it. Our home does not always feel like an oasis or refuge for me. 

But Jesus is. That same Jesus whose teeth I have to brush and whose nails I have to clip whispers, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here and holding you up always." That same Jesus who becomes so frustrated with me He occasionally pulls away from my guiding touch or snaps as if to bite me urges, "Keep your eyes on Me. There is something bigger here, something I have started and want to complete." That same Jesus who just wants me to be where He can see me, to stay right there with Him no matter how many things I have on my to-do list, holds out His arms to me and says, "Abide in Me. You need rest and you will find that in Me."