Jesus’ favorite

Staff Writer
Mount Shasta Herald

I know it doesn’t seem theologically sound, but sometimes I feel like I’m really Jesus’ favorite.

I said it in a half whisper then just in case anyone rounded the corner, but I’m saying it louder now because I’ve decided it’s true.

A couple of weeks ago, the person in the car ahead of me at Tim Horton’s paid for my bagel and sugar-infused coffee.

Clearly, Jesus likes me.

Then, something I had been struggling with at work came together better than I expected.

Are you noticing the same pattern I am?

A week later I had a terrible stomach bug. The worst I had had in at least seven years. And no one else in my family caught even a tiny bit of it.

Thank you, God.

My 12-year-old car? It’s still running.

My family? Quirky and crazy – and loving and funny.

My refrigerator? Disorganized but full.

Sure, there are times when I don’t get what I want or am certain I need. Times when I don’t understand why God doesn’t step in and tidy things up in this world and make it a little better for all of us, especially those in need of a safe place to even put a refrigerator.

But being his favorite doesn’t mean having all the answers or always having things my way. It simply means I can trust his love for me in the thank-you times and in the no-thanks-I’d-rather-not times. And it means I should reach out to his other favorites, the ones who – like me – he calls beloved.

That mama trying to keep her daughter safe and off the war-torn streets. That man struggling to fight his way out of the bottle and into a job. That teen who can’t seem to understand math no matter how many days he stays after school. That child who is scared and alone in the court system.

All of us beloved. All of us in need of God’s strength and grace. All of us equal.

All of us favorites.