(You can listen to this piece on S2E36 of the podcast)
On my closet shelf is a gingham blanket. It lies flat in picnic mode, soft cover and vinyl underside. Rolls and folds tightly into carrying mode with a little cloth handle stitched in for travel. I’m meant to go places like a grassy lawn or a sandy beach or quiet woods in order to have a date with Jesus.
It was a gift, marketed in a box as a kit to help one have a date with the Lord. Complete with cutlery and a cloth napkin and a place mat for dinner. There is a Bible study booklet and a notepad to record thoughts. An after-dinner mint and a square of chocolate to enjoy while soaking in time with the lover of my soul. Writing instruments sand a scripture block and little snacks all for this special date. And the blanket, that lovely brown and cream gingham blanket whose colors trespass each other, blending into a light hue where they intersect.
But can I intersect these things into my life, too? Is it a trespass what I’ve done? When I ate the chocolate square while taking a bubble bath, or when I used the napkin to wipe up a kitchen spill? Was it haphazard to study from the booklet lounged across my sofa and not straight-backed in a chair? Was it sacrilegious that I used the blanket as my tablecloth for a camping trip? Even if my heart it poised towards my Savior and my mind is reverent to His word, what of this gift set? What of the proposed date? What of these rules?
On my closet shelf still sits a gingham blanket. When I see it I am reminded. When I see the scripture block I am reminded. When I write grocery lists on the notepad, I am reminded. That my dates with Jesus, though unregimented, should happen every day in my own way.
