Look around - can you see me?

It's amazing - very, very few people who read this blog have ever met me. Most of us in the blogosphere share a fellowship and friendship which is digital-only. In fact, I get very envious of fellow bloggers who tell how they manage to hook-up in the real-world at this conference or that gathering.

But no matter where you are, I guarantee you'll see me this week...if you look.

See? Over there, on the edge of the street? The heavy-set guy with the beard, waving the palm frond and shouting "Hosanna!" until he's hoarse? That's me...

Look - there in the back of the temple, with Judas? Wondering whether all this hype will last, and if this Jesus guy is all he says he is? Asking himself whether we can still get an appointment with the High Priest? Yeah, that's me...

I admit, my name's not on the reservation card at the Upper Room Grill, but you'll see me at the dinner table Thursday night - wondering just what the heck Jesus is talking about, and making a stink about my Rabbi washing my feet. And it'll be my snoring you hear - a little louder than the rest, probably - while Jesus prays, and weeps, and begs for his cup to pass.

And as big as I am, I don't run much...but you'll see my heels flying when the Roman guards come for Jesus. Faithful follower that I am, when it comes down to the hard places, I'm a track-star just like the rest of 'em. Watch me run...

My hand is right next to Judas' on the money-bag - flinging it back in disgust at the way I've betrayed my Lord. And the rope will be in my hands, fashioning my own noose right alongside Judas, too...but I'm too much of a coward to jump. I should, though...I'm every bit as guilty of the betrayal.

I'm there, a couple rows back from the front, in Pilate's court, yelling "Crucify!" just like the rest of 'em. God knows that I'm good at jumping on bandwagons...I was there shouting with the rest of the yo-yo's on Sunday, and I'm good for some more shouting on Friday. Always wanting to be at the center of things - yup, that's me...

And it won't be hard to pick out my face up at Golgotha. I'll be the one standing about 20 feet away - giving John and Mary their space - but weeping at the horror of the Son of Man's blood-drenched body hanging on the cross. You see, my hand was on the mallet as it drove the nails in. Look at what you've wrought, Steve...

Oh, yes...you'll see me around a lot this week. No matter where you look, there I'll be...because it's my story.