Jesus Calling

         Mother and Alfred were sitting at the Sheraton table in the solarium on a bright sunny November morning.  All the roses they had picked before the frost warning had long since wilted and had been moved to the compost bin; nevertheless they still beheld the myriad of fragrant roses still blooming outside the solarium windows.

            Mother held a small leather bound volume in her hands.  A look of mild consternation and amusement crossed her face.  “Alfred?” she asked, “How can this author title the book ‘Jesus Calling’ when it’s all her own ideas?”

            Alfred put down the Wall Street Journal he was reading and asked, “Where on earth did you get that, Mother?”

            “Agnes Findlay loaned it to me.  She thought I might enjoy it,” said Mother.  Then she paused and added, “How can the author title it ‘Jesus Calling’?  It’s obviously her own thoughts.”

            “Well, Mother,” said Alfred, “there are a couple of possible answers.  She might have titled it ‘Jesus Calling’ because that was what she heard Jesus saying to her.  The other possibility is that she thinks that what she hears also applies to everyone else.”

            Mother gingerly put the little leather bound book down in the very center of the Sheraton table and said, “That’s just it Alfred.  She doesn’t know everybody and she doesn’t know me.”

            “Quite true, Mother,” said Alfred.  “You are unique and somewhat complicated.”

            Mother eyed him suspiciously and said, “Oh?”

            “I meant that as a compliment,” said Alfred.  “If you weren’t unique and somewhat complicated I wouldn’t have been attracted to you to start with.  As for ‘Jesus Calling’, if the shoe doesn’t fit don’t put it on.  What might be perfectly fine for other people isn’t necessarily fine for you.”

            “Oh, thank you, Alfred,” said Mother.  “That puts my heart at rest.  I’ll just thank Agnes and return to the book to her.  After all I wouldn’t expect her to like ‘The Godfather’ just because I do.”

            Alfred laughed, “Tua Família? Now that’s something I’m sure Agnes wouldn’t like at all.”

            Mother picked the book up off the table and gazed at the title for a minute.  She said in a soft voice, “Jesus Calling?” She put it back down thoughtfully on the table and said,  “Jesus Calling.” “I suppose in a way he is.”

            “Yes, certainly Mother,” said Alfred, “in so many ways and each of them unique to each one us.”

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20).