PS. Finding Jesus

Part of my first world privilege is that I have passes to airport lounges. Frankly, at some airports the public spaces are more lovely than the private ones. Just so you know.

When I checked into the lounge at SFO for my loooooong wait, I told my tale of mild woe to the man at the service counter. He was kind.

Four hours later, as I left the lounge to walk to my gate, he called out to me and asked how I was doing. He took it upon himself to check and make sure a better seat hadn’t opened up. So kind.

I looked at his name tag—Jesus. We had a little chat about his name, and he said how great it was to look in the mirror each morning and think, “Wow! I’ve seen Jesus!”

I could have gone off on a theological discourse about serving Jesus in others (which he had done) and Jesus being in all of us (the back and forth of seeing Jesus in everyone)—and the like, but a line had formed behind me. I had been the center of the world for long enough.

I circled back in line so I could leave him with my card—offering the invitation that a prayer was only a text or email away. He thanked me.

I left my wait with a smile on my face and, yes,prayers of thanks in my heart with special prayers of blessing for Jesus.

I’d been with Jesus. In every theological way.

One thought on “PS. Finding Jesus

  1. I love this! Jesus!
    You walk thru this world w your mien, your spirit, your countenance inviting people in.

    I have been among them. Jesus, too!

    Easter blessings!

    Like

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