My time with Jesus at the park

I sat with Jesus in the park.  It was warm, but not too warm.  Just enough breeze.  Overcast.  We sat under my favorite tree.  He sat directly across from me in the grass, comfortably.  I always tried to classify his style, but I couldn't.  He didn't seem to dress in any style, neither in nor out of style. 

I hate my life and everything in it.  Everyone in it.  What’s the point?  Go to work.  Get paid.  Pay bills.  Look for love and never find it.  Never getting ahead in life.  It’s all a big waste of time, energy, money.  And then I go to church and waste more time and money.  Like Your Father needs money.  The bible is so boring!  Church is so boring.   Why aren’t you saying anything?  Why are you looking at me like that?

Like what?

I don’t know.  You’re just looking at me.

I’m listening.

Well it’s just weird.

It’s weird for me to listen to you?  To give you my complete and genuine attention?

I paused.  I never thought of it like this.  Why was it weird to be looked at and listened to?  It didn’t feel bad weird, but good weird.  He saw me, through me, the real me.  Complaining and unthankful.  I felt loved, and thus ashamed.  His look wasn’t condemning.  I felt his love.  But His love showed me I was guilty.  Guilty of ignoring him, never giving him my full and genuine attention. 

I’m sorry. 

I forgive you.

Help me to be like you, to listen and love like you do.

Be with me.  My love will fill you and overflow from you.  You will love me and everyone else with my love overflowing from you.  All you have to do is let me love you.

It’s weird being loved, but good weird.

I understand.