Spiritual Cheese

When BQ was out with her grandma for lunch, the following conversation took place.

“BQ, what do you think about Jesus?” my MIL asked.

She thought for a while, looked a bit perplexed and then answered…

“Parmesan?”

So often I feel like I’m trying to find all the right answers to all the wrong questions. I hear “cheeses” instead of “Jesus” on a daily basis. I’m not listening, I’m not pausing to make sure I understand before jumping ahead. Sigh. Life is full of trash rather than treasure. And the treasure is there. Always. I definitely don’t want to settle for cheese, and this girl loves her some cheese, when I could be having a big pile of Jesus. And this month, for Christmas, don’t even think about giving me Santa. He can keep his jolly old self, empty promises to bring joy that he can’t deliver, and the beard as well. I’m going to listen more. I’m going to attempt to be quiet. And I’m going to keep the cheese for eating.

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