So, last week I was clicking around on the internet and went to the website for a friend's church in Austin. See, I've been having some spiritual questions about the whole Jesus-thing which I'm pretty sure are born out of some of my more evangelical students talking about how everything will be fixed by Jesus. I keep finding myself wondering, "How? How in the world is everything going to be ok by just saying the name Jesus?" I think I have grown quite cynical in my almost 34 years.

Anyway, so I'm on this website and I see a title something to the effect of "Why Jesus?" So I clicked, expecting to see all the theological arguments for atonement and such. You know, debts, sins, all that language that is supposed to mean something but, I admit, has become stale for me.

What I found was probably one of the best essays and personal messages about Jesus that I've read on a church website. But this passage struck me:

"But being transformed by God through a personal encounter with Christ is as complex as any relationship but also elegantly simple. Simple because it is a basic act of submission. "I can't live my life the way I should on my own. God, I need your help. Thank you for sending Christ to provide me with that help."

I told Reverendmother during a phone call that night that I realized what my deal with Jesus was. I said, "You know, I'm doing ok. Sin, taken care of. Heaven, ok, not so much worried about that." I had reached a point when I thought things are fine, not in such desperate need of a savior today. At least that's what I thought.

In her wonderful way, RM said, "I am reminded of the phrase 'in whom you live and move and have your being.'" Yeah, that was it...I felt like I had gotten to a point with God that I would rather sit in the car with God at Sonic just hanging out listening to the radio drinking a cherry lime squeeze than have God say, "Do you need any napkins or mints or ketchup with that?" Nope, I'm good.

This feeling freed me and allowed me to be less anxious about all the theological musings in my mind. What a gift!

Then, the weekend came and I felt like if I had to spend one more minute with my 19-month old going on 19 I was going to go postal. He was not so bad (ok, well, he was a toddler!) but everything he did pissed me off. Everything. I'd fold the clothes (and those who know me know I loathe doing laundry) and he pulled the chair up to the table, grabbed the laundry basket and began throwing all those nice, clean clothes all over the kitchen.

I went to put his tennis shoes on him and he (accidentally) kicked me in the stomach because he wanted to wear sandals. I told him no about something and he turned around and laughed at me and did it anyway!

I ended up going to church just for the free hour of babysitting.

And I realized there that I will never again tell God that I don't need help getting through the day. I may have many other theological thoughts and questions about "my Jesus" as one of my students put it, but my need for God? That is no longer one of them! Not with a toddler running around.