Jesus slapped me in the face today. Literally. 

A few years ago, my church passed out a cartoon cut-out of Jesus to all of the children in Sunday School. The teachers told the children to take Flat Jesus wherever they went that summer, and to have their parents take pictures and send them back to the church. We followed the directions, but at the end of the summer we left Jesus in the car. Flat Jesus has been riding around with us ever since. Today, on my ride home from work in the 100° heat, I decided to roll down all of the windows. A big truck drove past me on the highway creating a gust of wind that resurrected Flat Jesus from His resting place. He flew to the front of the car and slapped me across the face. I was stunned, to say the least. I was even more stunned when I picked up the paper from my lap and realized what, or rather who, had slapped me. It’s not every day you get slapped in the face by Jesus.

But it got me thinking about what that slap from Jesus might mean. What is He trying to tell me? Is there something I’m supposed to change? My daughter, being as intelligent as only a pre-pubescent, clear-minded child could be, asked me in return, “Why don’t you just ask him?“ Being the old, post-pubescent, cloudy-minded adult that I am, admitted that I wasn’t so sure I actually wanted to know.

In the meantime, I’ll continue practicing the motto of clean living, dirty thinking. Hahaha, no no no. What I mean to say is, “Cheers to the pirates. May we be more like them.” Oh Lord, maybe I should just turn the other cheek.