Reading through the stories of the life of Jesus as John remembered them, I paused long enough to ponder a well-known episode.

Jesus has come up to Jerusalem from Galilee in the north country for the Jewish festival of Booths.

I’d like to think I’m like this dog at the window, patiently watching and waiting. But our days have trained me a toward profound impatience like no other time. Unlike this picture, I’m more likely to pace, fret, wonder and worry, and question if what I so deeply desire will ever come into view. Who am I trying to kid, dogs know better how to wait and trust than me.

If I craft a picture of Jesus in my mind, I see him brushing sawdust from his clothes and hanging with working people, playing games with groups of kids, waving to outsiders of all stripes to come close, powerfully challenging religious norms and those who push them, teaching huge truths wrapped in plain brown wrappers.

These days offer plenty of reasons to be fearful, angry and just generally unsettled. Today being election day, so much of what we look to for stability shakes under the stresses of life, writ large, punctuated by a hurricane or two, and wars across the globe. In days like these, it’s good for Jesus-followers to remember, prune back, and press forward. 

So, the other day while driving to do errands, I had the radio tuned to a news station that was, so typically, talking about the election now only days away. The host and commentator analyzed the latest polling numbers, ground games, hidden voters, potential surprises that might still come and came to the amazing conclusion that the presidency is either candidate’s to win…I know, stunning.

I recently learned that I missed the Feast Day for George Muller back in September. He is celebrated by many as a champion of the poor through intercession and action. And I’ll bet plenty of believers don’t know him at all, but will be encouraged by his life and work.

When Claudia finished her sewing challenge for school girls in Zambia, I told her we needed to get out of Dodge for a bit. So, after teaching class Sunday at church, we skipped the service, bolted for the car and pointed it south, feeling like kids on the first day of summer vacation.

Not having been raised in a church-going home, when my faith journey began in high school through Young Life, all this Jesus stuff was new. Looking back on those days through high school and college (thankfully OSU was taking anyone in those days who could fog a mirror or I never would have gotten in), I sponged up language and beliefs and ways of doing faith as fast as I could. And I’m sure my family and friends thought I’d gone off the deep end.