I’ve seen pictures of Jesus in the clouds and Jesus in the wood grain of a wall. I know that they are just the human mind trying to create order out of chaos. It’s the instinct that has helped us climb to the top of the food chain. The opposable thumb is nothing compared to the ability to see the cheetah in the shadows and the rabbit in the field. I know this. The logic of it leaves me incapable of enjoying a “miracle.”

Friday morning, as I sat on the toilet, I looked at my shower curtain. It’s a simple curtain made of white material that is easily washable when the mildew starts to grow. The bottom of it is starting to turn brown and I will probably wash it this weekend to bring it back to the sparkling white that it was when I bought it. The way my shower water hit it on Friday, it left the impression of the face of Jesus, much like the Shroud of Turin.

Did I rush to get a camera? Nope. I didn’t really care. I calmly noticed the ability of my mind to find patterns and images where there are none. I was in awe at the way my eyes had noticed the thin drawn out face and immediately labeled it as Jesus instead of any other long-faced icon. There was no thorny crown. There was only a hint of a beard. My mind had immediately seen Jesus in my shower curtain.

The funny thing is that I went from the logical scientist to the divinatory goddess within a few seconds. My scientist said, “That’s interesting. My mind has found the image of Jesus in my shower curtain.” My gypsy said, “Why Jesus? Why not John Kerry? Why not Herman Munster?”

The guilt swept over me. Since I’ve been sick, I haven’t touched Chapter 10 of Looking For Christ. It has been four sentences sitting on my Palm for weeks now. My gypsy asked, “Why Jesus?” My writer replied, “Because I should be Looking For Christ.” She chuckled and the writer started to laugh. Only my scientist stayed stoic. “Bloody Hippies…” she cursed under her breath.