Wednesday, May 21, 2014

I Don't Know Who Jesus is to You.




I wish I had a Hallmark  worthy adage  I could tell you about parents as they get older. Unfortunately, I don't have anything like that to tell you.

However,I did find Jesus when I visited my mom for a few weeks last summer. I was searching my mother's fridge in an attempt to soothe my sweet tooth when I spotted it. I asked my mom if I could have the candy bar I found in the freezer. “Don’t eat it!” she yelled. “It’s The Last Supper!” Disbelief filled me; I pulled out the chocolate out of the freezer. Sure enough, when I peeled back the silver foil, I saw Jesus. The disciples were there too. At the time, I thought that Jesus probably would've wanted me to eat it on principle alone because, really, who imprints The Last Supper on a chocolate bar?

I wrestled with myself. How long would it take her figure out I ate the candy? A day? A week? I sighed standing there wrestling with the devil because he’s always in the details. How could I arrange the freezer so she would not know the chocolate was gone? Would she be really mad? Did it even matter if I ate it?


Finally, I decided that if Mom wanted to meet Jesus at the freezer it was none of my business and I wouldn't eat him. I know wherever she meets Jesus they are both having a good time. What I believe is not necessarily for anyone else but me...and that’s okay. Jesus is part of my Mom’s soul and that’s more than okay with me. That candy obviously had meaning to her.


Chocolate Jesus remained in her freezer until a couple of months later when my sister threw him in the trash without a second thought while we cleaned and packed my Moms house. My heart hiccuped at his demise. I knew I should've eaten Jesus.

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