The trouble with Christ is that he often comes at the wrong time and often wearing the wrong kind of clothes.
The other day he came to my door. He couldn’t have come at a worse time. I had a hundred and one things to do. He just stood there, a faint smile on his face.
I didn’t ask him to come in, in case he might decide to stay all day. Eventually I said: ‘What do you want?’ ‘Nothing, I was just passing by, so I thought I’d drop in and say “hello”, he replied. Sensing my mood, he excused himself and went away.
When he was gone I was mad with myself. Though he said he didn’t want anything, I’m sure he did want something. He just wanted a little companionship.
But I refused him with the excuse that I was too busy.
Ah, if only he had come at a more suitable time.