Jesus on Your Grilled Cheese

By Carol Barnier –

Warning: Serious Cynicism Alert

Few of you will ever know the thrill of seeing the face of our Lord Jesus on your drywall. I can tell you first hand, there’s nothing like it. The problem is, in my case, the face that emerged looked more like the Sith Lord from Star Wars rather than Jesus. And that’s not the first time I’ve seen a clearly-not-Jesus face appear. Karl Marx appeared in my wooden door grain, Mark Twain on my marble floor, and I’d swear I saw John Goodman in a cow pie (my apologies John, but it is what it is).

There have been Jesus sightings by people all over the world in the most unlikely of places—places like Cheetos, clouds, banana peels, baby scans, end of a log, grain of a rocking chair, stained tea towel, rusty side of a refrigerator, bacon drippings, freeway underpass, tortilla, granite countertop, bottom of a turtle shell, and my personal favorite—stains on the coffee mug of an atheist. These people are serious. They take photos, slap them onto Facebook, and start a viral ooh-and-ah fest round the world with amazed and reverent supplicants. This behavior actually has an academic latiny-shmatiny name: pareidolia, which loosely translates to I think I’m in love with my toast. So powerful is this longing to see the face of Jesus in an unusual place, this year’s Christian Retailer’s extravaganza provided the opportunity to purchase a George Forman-like grill that imprints the face of Jesus on your grilled cheese sandwich—(No. I’m not making this up. Google Grilled Cheesus if you don’t believe me . . .which begs the question, just how do we know what Jesus looked like, and moreover, does He prefer Gouda, Brie, or Cheddar?

I don’t want to rule out the possibility that there may indeed be some authentic appearances, but you’ve got to know how to evaluate these things. The Catholic Church, being fully aware of just how often this can become silly, has taken this evaluation process very seriously, even producing a checklist of Rules Regarding Apparitions explaining how to judge the validity of a sighting. Among other things, it includes looking at the individual who found the sighting with a very cautious, even cynical eye. Is she a true adherent? Or did she jump on this bandwagon recently, bringing with her other questionable practices like swinging dead chickens over her head before prayer? Is this an unusual thing in her life? Or did she also see David Bowie in her freezer’s frost last week?

My sightings of the Sith Lord, Mark Twain and John Goodman have taught me something; if you look around long enough, you’ll see faces in everything.

But I think I’ve also learned something else. Rather than looking for the face of Jesus in our coffee stains and our mulch piles, I think our time is better spent trying to BE the face of Jesus. Doing an act of kindness when others turn away. True—it’s not Facebook worthy. No one’s going to line up and pay money for a trinket representing your act of kindness. Little bobble-head dolls aren’t going to appear with your giant grin nodding reverently toward an adoring fan club from the back of someone’s Kia.

No. There is a hurting world out there. They need to feel a loving embrace, a drink when they’re thirsty, a hand when they’ve fallen. They need to know hope. They need to know that the God of the Universe knows their face. And I suspect, that no matter how beautifully rendered, they’ll never find such truth in a cow pie.

The God Who Sees and Seeks

By Dawn Wilson –

“Come and find me, Mommy,” my oldest son Robert yelled down the hallway. At age three, Robert loved to play Hide and Seek, but his attempts to hide made me laugh.

I stopped cutting potatoes for dinner and searched for my son. It didn’t take long to find him. As I rounded the corner, I spied two legs sticking out from below his bed. I smiled, understanding that in his little mind, as long as he couldn’t see me, I couldn’t see him.

“Gotcha!” I yelled, as I grabbed his legs and pulled him out. I tickled him and we both erupted in goofy giggles.

I wonder whether God smiles or is grieved when we play Hide and Seek with Him. He must think we’re pretty silly when we “hide” our sinful behavior. Do we really think He can’t see?

In Jeremiah 23:24, God asked the prophet, “Who can hide in secret places so that I cannot see him?” The writer of Hebrews gives us the answer: “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight” (Hebrews 4:13a).

As a child, I heard the story of Achan (Joshua 7:1-26), hiding banned items in his tent in direct disobedience and rebellion against God. My Sunday school teacher said God saw what was hidden and punished Achan with death. I remember being terrified of God—the One who saw everything!

In high school—trying to live a “Christian” life without knowing Jesus—I read about Ananias and Sapphira, hiding their sin of greed and lying to the apostles (Acts 5:1-11). But God saw it all. He knew their hearts. As I read about how they died for their deception, I squirmed. “God sees my heart,” I thought, with growing fear, “and I’m such a mess!”

Even after I became a Christ-follower in my early 20s, my view of God was such that when I thought of Him beholding my sinful behavior, I was too convicted and scared to come to Him. Whenever I sinned, I avoided time with God instead of quickly coming to repent and move on in freedom. I still had much to learn about the grace of God and that the person who “conceals” sin will not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces sins discovers God’s great mercy (Proverbs 28:13).

But one day, I read the story of Hagar the concubine, running away from her jealous master, Sarai (Sarah) to dwell and perhaps die in the desert (Genesis 16:7-14). God “found” her by a spring of water in the wilderness when she felt most alone and destitute.

Hagar called the Lord “a God of seeing.” She realized that the omniscient God saw her in her great need, and He was going to look after her and her son and give them a future. She called the place where God met with her Beer Lahai Roi—meaning “the well of the Living One who sees me.”

My view of God changed that day. I understood the incredible grace of the One who sees everything, yet pursues me to reveal Himself for my good. The Psalmist says, “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love” (Psalm 103:8). There’s no need to hide; but even when I do, my loving Father God will seek, find and comfort me with His love.

What have you learned about this great God who sees and seeks?

It’s Great Up Here

By Karen O’Connor –

I was sorry to hear about the unexpected death of my neighbor, Carl. I knew it would be difficult for his wife, Marion. They’d recently celebrated forty-five years of marriage and in recent months they were inseparable—well almost. Marion was totally committed—devoted even––to keeping Carl healthy so he’d be around for a long time. She couldn’t imagine life without him. And I could see why. He was tall and still good-looking for seventy-nine years and he was a fix-it man besides. There was nothing Carl couldn’t do around the house and yard. Maybe Marion had an ulterior motive for serving her hubby seaweed and wheat germ!

I have to admit, though, sometimes it was a real drag to be with them, especially at community potlucks or holiday buffets. Marion was a broken record (make that a CD) on the subject of healthy eating. She prepared lots of veggies, bran muffins from scratch, raw fruit at every meal, and plenty of fresh, purified water. And whether or not you wanted her advice on how to renew your energy, you got it.

Carl went along with the plan because he loved her and he wasn’t the kind to make waves in a calm sea, but I could see the mischief in his eyes when she wasn’t looking. His friends saw it too.

Henry, who lived in the house behind Carl and Marion, once told me that when he and Carl met for lunch on the days Marion played golf, Carl indulged himself in all the no-no’s like chocolate cake (sometimes two big slices), hot fudge sundaes, eggs cooked in bacon grease, and a double portion of pure whipped cream on his apple pie. He loved them all. Figured it didn’t hurt to have a little fun once in awhile as long as he was being “good” most of the time.

Carl used to joke about what it would be like in heaven. He could imagine St. Peter ushering him through the pearly gates and then pointing for miles around at the huge buffet tables filled with all the goodies Carl loved. And best of all, they wouldn’t be forbidden in heaven. Surely God wouldn’t post a list of healthy and unhealthy foods. New creatures in Christ wouldn’t have to worry about counting calories anymore.

“There will be no more tears and no more pain in heaven,” he said chuckling at the prospect, “so I won’t have to watch what I eat. No cholesterol to check either!”

Henry said now that Carl was gone, he could picture his dear friend looking down on him and shouting, “Henry, it’s great up here. No diets, no exercise regimes, no restrictions, no bran muffins. If I’d have known all this ahead of time, I’d have come a lot sooner.”

Heaven does sound heavenly at this point in life. There are still so many things to deal with on this side of eternity. I’m watching Marion now that her partner has left for his reward.

Sometimes I ache for the time when I won’t forget where I laid my glasses, whether or not I brushed my teeth, what my own phone number is. But then I stop and realize it’s wrong to wish my life away. God will bring me “home” soon enough. Meanwhile, pass the bran muffins.

On the Cellular Level

By Rhonda Rhea –

My kids are all in their teens and twenties so it was really funny the other day when they saw one of the earliest cell phones. I’m talking vintage here—just this side of fossilized. And huge. A dinosaur in every way. I dubbed it “Cell-a-saurus Rex.” My kids thought it must be some sort of coffee grinder. I think one of them was trying to get it to churn butter.

If you want to know what it was really like with those first mobile phones, try holding your microwave oven upside your head. All the mobile phone bells and whistles? I’m pretty sure on those first phones, they were actual bells and whistles. I told my kids that I thought people probably had a tough time back then knowing if a guy was listening to his boom box or talking on his cell phone. Of course, then I had to explain what a boom box was. I told them it was a giant mp3 player.

I’m thankful technology is always evolving, coming up with something bigger and better. Or sometimes something smaller and better.

Sometimes size is pretty relative. I want a big faith. I really do. I want super-sized faith with all the bells and whistles. But when the disciples asked Jesus to give them bigger faith, Jesus answered in a rather surprising way. In Luke 17:5 the disciples said to Jesus, “Increase our faith.” Jesus’ answer? “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you’” (HCSB).

Matthew tells us that Jesus said, “For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you,’” (Matthew 17:20, HCSB).

According to Jesus Himself, with even the tiniest faith, we can do huge things. Impossible things. It’s not so much the size of the faith as it is who the faith is in. A faith planted firmly in Christ and an obedient response to his lordship makes a huge impact on life. Mountainous!

It’s good to remember that faith grows at the deepest part of who we are. At the “cellular” level, if you will. Paul tells us in Romans 10:17 that faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God. His Word teaches us about His character, His history, His power and His incomparable trustworthiness. Studying the character of God changes our faith—all the way down to our deepest, heart-of-heart parts. The more we study Him through His Word, and the more we know Him, the more we respond in obedience, and the more our faith grows.

We can put our faith in Christ. It’s safe there. I’m so thankful my all-powerful Savior graciously confirms that in new ways each day. He takes us to deeper places in our faith at every new point of surrender.

And in the not-so-deep places, I’m also thankful the phones are getting smaller. Phonezilla is appropriately extinct. A seed-sized phone? Could be the next big thing.

You Say Bedazzle; I Say Embezzle

By Jodi Whisenhunt –

James said it best, “But no human being can tame the tongue” (James 3:8). That silly little muscle can stir up more trouble—or in my case, embarrassment—than walking down a high school corridor in front of the entire football team with toilet paper stuck to your shoe. Yes, I speak from experience.

Not long ago, my sister came to visit. We got together at my brother’s house, ate some delish barbecue, swam and caught up on each other’s happenings. My sister said she was looking for some good glue to repair jewel embellishments on her shoe. I knew of a great one and launched into the whole tale of how my friend discovered it when she needed to embezzle her kids’ dance costumes. You saw that right. I said my friend embezzled dance costumes.

My brain didn’t catch the slip, so I kept right on talking, but my sister cocked her head, looked at me strangely and giggled. I was confused. I didn’t think I was telling a funny story.

“What?” I asked.

“How do you embezzle costumes?” she asked. And I felt like a dunce. It wasn’t the sun that reddened my cheeks.

“Well,” I said, “You do need sticky fingers to nab jewels!”

Oh, the tongue! “Whoever would love life and see good days must keep their tongue from evil and their lips from deceitful speech” (1 Peter 3:10). I don’t think my mixed up words conveyed evil, but they were a bit deceitful and certainly conjured up an interesting visual. I guess that’s why James advised us to be quick to listen and slow to speak (James 1:19). Always be careful not to bedazzle your speech!

On a side note, it has nothing to do with language, but to this day I still check my shoes before exiting the ladies room.

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