Who on earth would be visiting at six in the morning? I hurried to the door, dishcloth in hand as the insistent knocking continued.
Peering through the frosty pane, I saw our Doberman, Sally, wagging her stumpy tail and letting a man scratch behind her ears. She didn’t tolerate strangers well, but seemed to be enjoying the attention from this one. The man looked clean and well dressed. Probably another car breakdown. Living as close to the freeway as we did, it happened a lot. I cracked the door open, leaving the security chain attached.
"Can I help you? Do you need me to call a tow-truck?"
He straightened up and smiled. Sally barked and I dropped the dishcloth. Undoing the security chain, I held the door open, speechless.
"May I come in?" the man asked.
"Of course, Jesus! Please c-come in, " I stammered, standing back to let Him through.
Opening my mouth to guide Him, I realized He already knew the way. He smiled and headed around the corner to the kitchen.
I closed the door. This can’t be happening.
I walked to the kitchen, and fell to my knees.
He knelt beside me.
"Daughter, I'm not here to take you from your day. Please, go on with what you were doing."
"Lord Jesus," I exclaimed. "You are here. How can I possibly get on with my day? I want to stay right here and worship You."
Sadness swept across His face so fleetingly I wondered if I'd imagined it.
"My child, I am here every day," He said.
My daughter and son argued loudly as they came downstairs. I hurried over to warn them.
"Children, we have a special visitor today."
"Who?" they chorused.
"Jesus."
They looked at each other and my son rolled his eyes.
"I’m serious. Can’t you see Him?"
"Mom, do we have to go to church this morning?" my daughter asked.
I looked over my shoulder at Jesus, who stood in the kitchen reading Christian posters on the cupboards. Leaning forward, I whispered in her ear.
"Sweetheart, can’t you see who’s in the kitchen?"
"Mom, cut it out."
"I’m not joking. Jesus really is here."
"Yeah, you always say that, but you still yell at us, all the time. Yesterday, you even broke the promise you made not to..."
"Shush," I said, glancing across the room.
"I forgive you," Jesus said.
"I’ll try harder."
"I know." He turned back to the posters.
I swallowed hard as my children exchanged glances.
"Mom...who are you talking to?"
"Jesus."
"Get real, Mom." My son grimaced.
He grabbed a granola bar from the counter and headed for his room. My daughter followed, looking back over her shoulder.
Ignoring her worried stare, I joined Jesus in the living room, where He was studying the titles of the DVD’s sitting by the television. A chill crept through me. I enjoyed watching television while I ironed and those movies never seemed so bad - until now.
In my mind, I pictured Mary, weeping at His feet, anointing Him with precious oil. How she loved her Yeshua. I’d often imagined being in her place. Now, I stood with Him in my home, and wondered if anything here reflected my public expression of devotion to Him?
I thought of all the churches, too busy squabbling amongst themselves, to save the lost. Shame floated down over my head like ashes, knowing I held an equal share of the blame.
My daughter ran down the stairs and grabbed her ironed blouse from the chair in front of us. She passed by Jesus, and her arm brushed against His sleeve. She straightened and a shy smile drifted across her face.
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too. Get ready for church, sweetheart."
"Sure, Mom." She gave me a hug and danced off, taking the steps two at a time on her way upstairs.
I looked at Jesus and started to cry.
He didn’t say a word, but took me in His strong arms and held me in the beautiful fragrance of His forgiveness. Every heartache I’d ever known on earth washed away forever in the presence of His comfort and love.
"Precious child, I love you more than there are stars in the sky," He whispered, nail-scarred hand stroking my hair.
We heard the children heading for the garage.
"Come on, Mom! We’ll be late for church! I’ll start the car," my son shouted over his shoulder.
I looked at Jesus’ beautiful face, hoping the memory would sear in my heart forever.
"Why did You come today?" I whispered, following Him back into the kitchen.
"For My lost lambs."
"Then come downtown with me. There are many lost souls there. They’d be saved in a heartbeat once they saw you."
"Sweet daughter of Eve, I served My time on Earth already. You truly believe if I would just come with you to these places, they would see Me and be saved?"
"Yes, Jesus. Once they looked in Your eyes, they would love You. If they could just see You..."
Jesus gave a deep sigh and looked at me sadly.
"Don’t they see Me when they look at you?"
I stood alone in my kitchen.
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