This story is not the one I have in mind when I pray to be more like Jesus.
I am already good at ignoring things that threaten to throw off my carefully laid plans.
I need no encouragement to try to control the focus of my work according to my vision—which I conveniently claim is yours.
In my weariness and frustration, I can easily become dismissive—if not plain mean—to people in need.
I do want to be like Jesus, God.
But not the Jesus who ignores this woman.
Not the Jesus who calls her a dog.
I want to be like the Jesus who is caught off guard.
The Jesus who listens after all.
The Jesus who lets himself be interrupted.
The Jesus whose compassion overcomes irritation.
The Jesus who says, “Not my will
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