I’ve seen Him several times lately. Jesus, that is.
He doesn’t look anything like I imagined He would. Without question, His disguise disarms me at first, making me think there’s no way on earth it could be Him. After all, this person who is so full of kindness, joy or love has flesh and blood! He’s right in front of me. If I were to reach out, I could TOUCH Him.
Jesus in disguise: they’re the ones doing that thing that I so desperately needed to have done. They’re the answer to the prayer that I prayed moments before, “Please have someone stop and help me,” or “All I want is to be happy,” or “I just don’t have it in me to hope anymore.”
No, He doesn’t always show up as a supernatural phenomenon. Sometimes He’s simply a balding man with a bit of a tummy, running to the aid of a stranded motorist. Sometimes He’s a child whose giggle is so contagious that just passing by the sound makes you laugh too. Sometimes He’s a middle-aged woman who somehow knows just what to say to bring hope to your broken heart.
And even more peculiar than those are the times I don’t see Him at all… but I know He’s there.
I just know it.
And it makes me wonder…
Am I being Jesus to those around me? Do people walking by me see Jesus in me, or am I just Julie? Am I a person who’s willing to stop and help, offer a smile or even a word of encouragement to those I know AND those I don’t know, or will I just pass by them and pretend I don’t see?