I’m sick of the South Beach Diet Jesus. You know the one I’m talking about. He’s not the Jesus God created, who was a man, who was God and who really walked the earth and walks in me today. The South Beach Diet Jesus is the one we create everyday. Yep, me too. He’s the Jesus who we “Patterned” an entire religion after. He’s the Jesus we put on a flannel board, tell a story about, and fail to realize He still moves and works in people today. The Jesus I want more of is not a fad, in fact He’s hated. This Jesus is “The Thing” culture says we shouldn’t be. He’s not the latest emergent church, house church, or non-church movement. He’s the son of God who wants nothing more than to sit in the front seat of the car with me as I drive to town and listen. Oh, I long for more of this Jesus. I don’t want the fictitious Christmas Jesus, glamorized in a manger with all the gifts and wise men. I want the Jesus who no one wanted to give a room to. The Jesus who was born in a barn, not a neo-natal unit at Peace Health. I want the Jesus who shows up during and night after a great tempest arises and my world seems to shatter all around me. Yeh, that’s the Jesus I’m looking for. The real deal, not the South Beach Diet Jesus.