I was walking on the beach with Jesus when scenes from my life started flashing before me. There were two sets of footprints for each scene, except for when I was very low and very sad. Then there was only one set.
So, I was like, “Jesus, why weren’t you there when I needed you the most?”
He was like, “When you were down and you saw only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”
“Ohhhhhh, shiiiiiit. That’s good,” I said.
“Right?”
“Yeah, no that’s good. Except…”
“What.”
“Well, those are my footprints.”
“…hm?”
“Yeah, when it’s just the one set? Those are my feet. Your footprints look like sandals. See?”
“I uhh…”
“It’s all barefoot when I’m alone. Like, when my grandma died back there? Just one set. Bare feet.”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, totally! No, I, uh, I took my sandals off.”
“You took your sandals off.”
“I did. I wanted to like, feel what it was like to be you, you know? That’s when I’m at my most Jesus-y, when I’m all up in it like that. So, I took off my sandals and hung them on my belt right here, and kinda picked you up and hoisted you over my shoulder like this, and…”
“…Jesus.”
“What?”
“Come on. Level with me. It’s just us here.”
“…(sigh)…all right. I bounced.”
“Damn, dude!”
“I’M SORRY! I’m not good in a crisis!”
“Well what the hell, man! You’re just hanging out with me during the good times, and then when times get rough you run and hide?”
“That is the long and short of it, yes.”
“Where did you go?”
“Usually I just went to get a taco.”
“A TACO. I’m drowning over here and you’re eating a taco.”
“Oh, stop being so dramatic.”
“So why did you just leave me alone like that?”
“WHY?! Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because my father MURDERED ME?!”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Didn’t you read the bible? There’s a whole thing about it.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Oh, right. I forgot. You know what happened because YOU WERE THERE.”
“[mumbling] Now who’s being dramatic…”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. Why do you say it like that? He murdered you. That’s not what we’ve been told. We’ve been told that you sacrificed yourself so we could all be free. Or…something.”
“John 3:16.”
“Yeah, the football game sign.”
“John 3:16. God so loved the world he sent his only son to blah blah blah I forget the rest but it ends with me being nailed to a cross. You think that was my idea?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.”
“IT HURT. With the nails and the blood and the crown with the thorns and all that? So, you know, forgive me if I get a little skittish around conflict.”
“That’s…a very valid point.”
“Also, could you guys maybe not have crosses EVERYWHERE? You think I like being reminded of that day all the time? I mean, if they would have hung me would you dummies be wearing nooses around your neck every day?”
“Hanged.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, and I LOVE this one. What do you call that day when they killed me? What have you, in your infinite human wisdom, chosen to call that day?”
“Um…”
“Go on, say it. I already know but I want to hear you say it.”
[mumbling] “…Good Friday.”
“GOOD. FRIDAY. WHAT THE FRICK.”
“Well, I think it’s supposed to mean…actually I don’t know why we do that.”
“JOIN THE CLUB.”
“You know, if it makes you feel any better, I always liked you, and I thought it really sucked what they did to you. I like that you hung out with poor people, and I really like that part where you cast the money changers out of the temple.”
“…Yeah?”
“Yeah, man! That was awesome! You were like RAWR! Throwing tables over and shit!”
“That was pretty sweet, wasn’t it.”
“Totally.”
“…(sigh)…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. That was not very Jesus-y of me.”
“You were being very un-Dude…”
“Ha! Lebowski. Love that movie.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty great. So, like, you know a lot about me, right?”
“Pretty much everything.”
“Except for the hard parts.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Dude, come on.”
“Sorry. Right, yes I know all about you except for the rough days. Again, sorry about that. But hey, you managed all right. I mean, you’re here! You made it!”
“Well that’s what I was going to ask you. Where are we?”
“It’s nice, right?”
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Is it heaven?”
“Um…”
“Jesuuuuus…”
“…sure.”
“Sure? What does that even mean?”
“Let’s go get a taco. I’ll tell you all about it.”