I was doing my dishes one day and heard a knock on the front door. I leave my door open in the summer and always have a pitcher of lemonade in the fridge. I love the way the lemon wheels float to the top and the glass pitcher gets all frosty.

Imagine my surprise when I turned around and saw a man standing there.

Not just any man, mind you. But one who looked exactly like Jesus from the Bible.

“Christ?” I called, as I walked to the door. “Is that you?”

He smiled that gentle smile of his and pushed a stray hair behind his ear.

“It’s me!” he said. “Jesus Christ, our Lord.”

I was so excited I didn’t know what to do. My mind flashed many thoughts. Was I properly attired to meet Christ, our Lord? Did I have spots on my shirt? Walnuts in my teeth? Did my toenails need trimming?

Barefoot, I opened the door.

“You’ve come,” I said. “You’ve come at last. I’ve been waiting for such a long time.”

When he stepped inside, I saw he was quite tall. The sun shone on his shoulder-length auburn hair. Starlight sparkled from his long white robe. Was it my imagination or did a fluorescent green halo float around his head?

No matter.

I have had many experiences in my life. It’s been a good life. A very good life. I remember mostly the good things: the birth of my children, the publication of my first newspaper article, walking into my yellow house for the very first time. But when Jesus walked in, it was the very best feeling I ever did have. It was like seeing my own father risen from the grave.

And now, I have left my sandals behind and have ascended to be with my people.