I saved Jesus and then she saved me.
“Wake up! Are you still dreaming?” Over the last six months, I have been telling one story consistently and fervently - the story of my friendship with Jesus…the fox. Storytelling is my creative lifeblood. It brings me in this wonderful state of excited urgency where I can explore and dream. Some stories take epic effort to write. Others write themselves or have always been written. Such is the story of me and Jesus - the boy and his fox. Ever since the four-legged fairy walked towards me on Good Friday, with that heart-wrenching air of anxious bravery, hungry, ailing and pleading for kindness, I knew that this was big. It was as if she had chosen me to tell the world about her in what was going to become my best story. Our best story. “God…you are obsessed with this fox.” You think? Well, erm…yes, I am obsessed. When have I not been obsessed with the matters that move me? What should I be doing instead? Skimming the surface? Dipping in and out? Sounds like a bloody waste of effort.