The Sunday School lesson I promise to never give your kids

I had this really weird “proud” moment the other night that I think was most likely entirely sacrilegious.  I was sitting in my friends basement, roasting marshmallows over tea lights (just because I don’t do camping doesn’t mean I have to miss out on s’mores!) about to embark on a [less than epic, meaning I lost] game of Cranium, when I decided to snoop my surroundings.

I was clearly in a man den, of sorts.  These boys were the ones who introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons when I was 14, so it was less “shoot whiskey and play pool” and more “play guitar and write lyrics about darkness”, but it was a man den none the less.  Covering every inch of available wall space were Iron Maiden flags, electric guitars, and metal album covers.  I was thrilled.  I’m all about color schemes and fresh flowers at home, so it’s refreshing to walk into a stale smelling cave, covered in bottles.  It reminds me that balance still exists.  But I digress.

As I looked around the room at all the flags, featuring different beasts and demons etc.  & my eyes settled on a picture of a man whose image was so familiar it could have been my own fathers.  I inquired: “Oh, and look, a picture of some sort of… Jesus guy… to top it all off!”

I know these boys aren’t religious.  Born and raised, maybe.  Practicing?  Hell no.

“…that is Jesus”

Of course it’s Jesus.  I’m not an idiot.  I just don’t know what he’s doing here. On your wall.  With Iron Maiden flags.

I didn’t say that out loud.  I couldn’t really speak.  Because this really strange sensation crept up inside of me and all I could think was Fuckin’ rights, Jesus.  You got yourself a spot in the Man Den!  What a beauty!  And then I got super excited and squirmy and was all I’m going to worship with YOU tomorrow, you old gem, you.  What a cool guy.  Gosh.

And that’s when I realized something:

Jesus was that fat, balding, 47 year old man I met at the Iron Maiden concert.

He was all “hey babe, come up to my suite and party!” and I was like “don’t even pull that serpent crap on me – I’m going to hold higher standards for myself from now on!” And Jesus/Creepy Biker guy was all “Winning!”

Then I went to church this morning all pumped up on praise and my skirt kept sticking to the chair I was sitting in and I kept flashing the 75 year old woman sitting behind me every time I got up to pray.  Which totally settled it.  Because heavy metal Jesus was laughing his ass off.

xo & yw

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