So I point to the painting of Jesus asking my granddaughter, “Do you know who that is?”.
She replies, “Scary monster!”.
Trying not to laugh I say to her, “No! That isn’t a scary monster. That is Jesus. Jesus isn’t scary!”.
She replies, “Scary Jesus!”.
That same painting hung at the bottom of the steps in my family home. My mother called it the painting of our Lord.
I remember being afraid of that painting when I was small too. I would scurry by it quickly keeping a watchful eye.
I would be especially cautious in the dark of night. After all, that prayer about “If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” was quite thought provoking to a young girl’s creative mind. I wasn’t about to take any chances.
I wasn’t ready for heaven. I didn’t care how wonderful it was supposed to be!
I had no idea that my granddaughter felt the same way. Happy Birthday Scary Jesus!