Riding Along with Jesus: Episode 4

                         All Because of Bacon


         I felt terrible for feedin' Jesus that breakfast burrito. How was I s'posed to remember Jews ain't allowed to eat bacon. I mean I didn't do it on purpose. After all, I didn't eat the bread he pulled outta thin air without askin' him first if he made sure to pray for gluten-free loaves. You gotta let people know if you got dietary restrictions; that's all I'm sayin'.

                               

         All day long after that, Jesus kept sulkin' and givin' me the stink-eye. He didn't say one word to me the whole ride up to the hotel, and he just kept on goin' with the silent treatment till, finally at dinner, I had to say somethin'. 

         "Your father ain't gonna send you to hell on account o' me accidentally feeding you some bacon, is he?" I asked.

         "I thought I told you not to ask stupid questions," he said. I know it sounds weird, but you get used to Jesus sayin' that kinda thing when he's around and, pretty soon, it starts bouncin' right off you. It took a while gettin' Jesus to talk without hidin' behind all the put downs, what with him sayin' stuff like it'll be worse for me than it was for Sodom on the day o' judgement and all that, but he finally came around to tellin' me it wasn't the bacon he was mad at. He just couldn't believe I forgot he's a Jew. Said he never meant to spread the gospel to gentiles in the first place, and now he comes to a world where people "literally" swear by his name and they don't even know what it's like to be a good Jew.

                                    

         What happened next was somethin' I shoulda saw comin from the time I picked him up back at that truck stop out near Boulder. I asked Jesus a simple question just like I do every time right before he makes me feel like I should'na opened my dang fool mouth... Well, let me back up a smidge.

         All I did was ask him why he'd even bother if he couldn't get the chosen people to follow him. First he tells me, "You gotta take what you can get," and I was fine with that. But then he went into some stuff I never heard before.

         "That's why they call me the Bridegroom," he said, and he stopped talkin' right when he saw the look on my face. It was prob'ly pretty obvious I did have a dang clue what the hell he was talkin' about. Then he said, "The Kingdom of Heaven is like a wedding party?" But he said it like he was testin' me or something. "The people who were originally invited pulled a no-show? Does any of this ring a bell?"

          "That makes perfect sense," I told him, and I just knew I was in for it 'cause I could tell I was lookin' at him all bug eyed, like when you get lost in the Mexican side of town and and you stop and ask for directions just to have some little dark-skinned fella speak to you all fast and mumbly, and you just wish to high heaven that you could understand one word they was sayin' to you. Anyway, it goes without sayin, he wasn't satisfied with my answer. 

         "This shouldn't be anything new to you. You say you're a Christian?"

         I just couldn't let Jesus down. I had to let him know I'm a believer and ain't no two ways about it. "Yes, sir," I said. "A Christian through and through. Born and bred. Yes, sir." But that didn't make no nevermind to him. He went right on like a drill sergeant,  askin' me how much I read of the holy scriptures and how much I knew about the law and the gospels and I told him what I knew, which I thought was plenty. I said to Jesus that I knew about the creation, the commandments, and the patience of Job...

         "The patience of Job?" he said, and now I just felt like I'd been talkin' straight outta my ass. Which, according to him, I guess I was. "Job didn't have a choice. Job was given the option to sink or swim; Job was persistent." Then he went and slapped a Bible in my hand and told me to get busy reading.

         I don't know what kinda time he thinks I got to spare, but I've got ground to cover and cargo to deliver. Still though, it'd seem pretty ungrateful on my part to tell the ever-lovin' Messiah that I'm too busy to learn how to be a good Christian. I mean, after he died for the sins of the world and everything. Although, I gotta say, after reading a little outta this here book, I'm gettin' a real fuzzy picture o' what that's s'posed to mean.

            
           

Riding Along with Jesus: Episode 3

                 A (Very) Small Miracle

         It was clear sailing all the way to Georgia and we got into Atlanta with more than enough time to spare till I was due to check in at the loading dock. Jesus fell asleep the last stretch o' the ride and he looked about as peaceful as a baby, all rolled up half in the fetal position and clutchin' on to some blankets I had in the back of my cab. With all we'd been through together, I thought it'd be a nice thing to do, if I finished early enough, to surprise our lord and savior with a piping hot breakfast burrito. 
                       
                            

         Only problem was, when I pulled my trailer in to unload my cargo, the dock was too small. I felt just terrible waking Jesus on account of a technical difficulty, but I knew he'd been with me for a reason and there was just no way I was gonna deliver that cargo without some kinda small miracle. Now, it might not surprise anybody to know that Jesus can be a little grumpy when you wake him up first thing in the morning. But I never in my life thought he'd flat out refuse to help me in my time of need.

         "This isn't your time of need," he told me when I finally got him awake enough so he could wipe the drool off his face. "And besides, I can't be performing miracles left and right anytime life gets a little complicated. Do you have any idea how much attention it attracts every time people bear witness to a miracle?"

         I guess he had a point. But the least he coulda done was clear up the static on my C.B. radio so I could get through to dispatch and let them know what I was goin' through. Instead, all he did was stay out there alongside the truck messin' with me like it was the funniest thing on Earth that I couldn't do my job. 

         He started splashin' around in a puddle and sayin', "Look, Delmer, I'm walking on water!" Then he started takin' my brand new coffee mug over to the water fountain and turnin' the water into cream soda. I hate to say I was relieved when he disappeared for about a half hour 'cause, leastways then, I could have some time to get my head together. Then, outta nowhere he showed up with a dolly and started unloading the cargo hisself. 

         "Here's your miracle, Delmer," he said. "A dolly!" I told him it was a little more complicated than that. I could get into serious trouble if I hurt myself doing labor in a workplace that isn't up to snuff. So he went up to all the homeless people he could find and got them to help him unload my cargo in exchange for my coffee mug full of cream soda. 

         It's one of the few times I thanked my lucky stars for Jesus' short supply of patience. He wanted to get outta that loading dock so bad, he went and performed a small miracle just so we wouldn't be stuck there all day.

         After all the hubbub, we went through that morning, it was still only 10AM and I thought it'd be nice to get him that breakfast burrito I planned on. And boy was he grateful.

         "I've never had anything like this in my whole life," he said. "What's in this?"

         I told him it was just some eggs, potatoes, and bacon and he stopped cold. 

         "Delmer," he said, and he was serious as a heart attack when he said this. "What are you trying to do to me? I'm Jewish."