This is Why I Love Him...

Is it cliche to be a religious single gal  from Texas who writes entire blog posts about how Jesus is her boyfriend? Yes. And I am not going to do that here. Because, Jesus is not my boyfriend and even if he were, I wouldn't tell people! Because in my opinion it is somewhat creepy to get into a romantic trist with the author and finisher of your faith.

My next-door buddy Shaun White doesn't even like it when I say that hot celebrities look like Jesus because it gives him such a case of the heebie-jeebies! And I'll admit, I think that's a fair response. But I also think that he ought to admit that Russel Brand does look a heck of a lot like our bastardized approximation of the Savior and  does happen to be a Hottie Mchotterson. Same with long-haired Jared Leto and Jim Cavezal, obviously.

But, I digress

The point is, I do love Him--J.C. that is.

And I remembered why today when I ran into an old elementary school friend of mine, who I will call 4th grade Lindsay Lohan.  Li'l LiLo as I rememeber her was always small, generally over or underclothed and seemingly exhausted. One Fall she was invited to my Halloween party and I don't know if there was a miscommunication between she and her parents or what, but I do remember that I could hear them screaming at her over the phone and that she seemed genuinely afraid to go home. But home she had to go, and we all had to share in her embarrassment as we drove up to her dilapidated, dirty only house only to leave her with an equally dilapidated, dirty old man whose tone had not softened one iota by the time we got there.

If I ever hung out with Li'l Lilo again, I can't recall it. Then she seemed to disappear in middle and highschool and though I never had proof that she was being abused I always worried and wondered as I passed her house on the street. A couple of years ago they tore the house down and I thought, "Poor Lindsay, she didn't have a chance at anything good in life."

Fast Forward to the Drive-Through at Bushes Chicken this afternoon where I see her for the first time in at least 12 years. She is driving a mini-van with a little girl in the front seat who is beautiful, reminscent of her mother and appears perfectly clothed and rested.  "Lindsay", I say " I think of you every time I pass your house from when we were little and I wonder how you are doing." I am trying to hide the terror in my voice that is actually saying "I see your old house and I weep because I was too young to know how to help you escape that hellish existence that I got a glimpse of." But she seems to know what I mean. "Things are really good", she assures me. "My husband was the pastor of  a church out of town for a while but now we are back here at New Life." 

How Fitting.

Listen, I know that going to church or being a pastor's wife doesn't mean that life is perfect. But I thought Lohan would be dead, strung-out or prostituting the next time I saw her. Instead she was casually purchasing chicken, being a mom and participating in groups like "You May not like me but Jesus thinks I'm to Die for". (Yes,I Facebook Stalked her). That scared little girl who I say a prayer for every so often is ok. Saved even! Not just in the next life, but in this one.

This is why I love Him.

Not because he is my pretend date or looks anything like one Mr. Katy Perry.  But because he offers to Lindsay and to me:

Hope.
Rescue.
New Life, Indeed.

And you?  What percentage of your (assumed) affection toward Jesus has to do with hotness and what percentage derives from something substantive like that touching story that I just recalled? Its not a contest or anything, but your soul might be in danger if you answer incorrectly.