Friday Flash: Sideswiped by Jesus

On Friday, writers on Twitter post links to stories of less than 1000 words, and some of them are really clever. You can find them by searching the hashtag #FridayFlash. This one has been knocking around my head for a couple of weeks. Gee, I wonder why.

Sideswiped by Jesus

Am I what? Sane? Oh, you said saved! Yes, that makes sense with all your "Jesus loves you" and "John 3:16" posters on sticks, doesn't it?

Yes, I would definitely say so. You see, just a couple of weeks ago, I was sideswiped by Jesus. Oh, come now, there's no reason to hold that "John 3:16" poster in front of you like a shield! I promise I'm not crazy, although that's exactly what an insane person would say, isn't it? Let me tell you what happened.

I was driving down Lexington Avenue in the left lane when – wham! – I found myself half in the middle turn lane. The driver of the truck who had bumped me pulled over into the parking lot of a chiropractor, who thankfully was not there or else he would've had us both on the table in a second.

I was shaking all over and angry, and I had my cell phone out to call the cops when the guy who hit me got out of his car. I wish you could've seen him! He had the most gentle brown eyes, shoulder-length wavy brown hair, and a plaid shirt. For a moment, all I could think about was sheep grazing peacefully by a stream, but then I heard my mama's voice in my head, fussing at me when I wanted to dress casually for church: "Jesus don't wear flannel!"

Well, this snapped me back to reality. I also noticed that the right side of my back and neck were tensing up and starting to ache.

"It's not really necessary to call the police," the driver of the truck said in a calm, deep voice with a trace of an accent. "I'll pay for your damages. Here's my information."

He pulled out a beat-up brown wallet and took out his driver's license. Sure enough, it said "Jesus Josephus," and the address was in Nazareth, Georgia.

"Sorry, mister, but I don't know if you're lying to me. I'm going to have to call the cops."

"Don't you believe me?" he asked, a sad look on his face. "It's the everyday miracles that allow the Son of Man to communicate with his flock in this crazy world." For a second, I saw those sheep again.

I fingered the "9" button on the phone. "How do I know you're really that Jesus and not some guy named Hey-Soos who texts while he drives?"

"I know your back and neck are hurting. If you had faith the size of a pain pill, you would allow me to do great things." He stretched out his hands toward me. "Be healed!"

I felt better, I truly did! It was like I had been given a shot of some sort of drug in my neck, and the little muscles loosened up all the way down my spine.

"I had to get your attention," he said like he was reading my mind. "You've got a lot of noise in your head between your work, podcasts, and worries. It is not yet time for me to reveal my presence to the Earthly authorities, but I am looking for apostles. I would like for you to be the first of the Twelve."

But then I remembered how the Bible says that in the end times, there would be many imposters. Jesus don't wear flannel, my mama had said, and he wouldn't have run into me.

I called the police. I had second thoughts about it later, sure, and my neck and back pain came back, so I did end up on that chiropractor's table. Still, God gives us those childhood messages for a reason, and my faith was being tested.

And you know what y'all say, how Jesus saves? Well, he might, but he sure doesn't have insurance! Or maybe he's the best insurance of all because he did send me a big check that didn't bounce, and I gotta tell you, that's what finally made me a believer. Guess he did know how to get my attention after all.

So yeah, I'm saved, and I'm running Apostle Auditions next week. Are you interested? I could get you to the front of the line. Just leave the posters at home.