Saturday Confession: The First Class Curtain
When I was in high school my sister and I watched a Louie Anderson comedy show so many times we had it memorized. I tried to find the exact bit online and couldn’t, but to this day you can give me or my sister one line, and we can probably finish the bit. Great laughs.
One of the jokes was about traveling in first class after a lifetime in coach. There is that curtain that separates the two. In his expressive way circa 1987, Louie pretends to open the curtain to tell everyone in coach what first class is doing. We giggled and giggled watching him say, “We’re eating now!” and share that they got peanuts.
I write all that because the first class bit is the visual God gave me this week. I know, it’s crazy. But it’s good, just like He is. And I have a feeling this might be something meant for you, too.
I’ve felt stuck in a season of waiting and grief. I’ve processed and reflected, sought counsel and journaled. And as I did, God gave me some insight.
I’m so busy pointing everyone else to His Son that I forget I have that same access.
Say what, now?
Basically, knowing Christ in a personal way, I have a ticket to first class. But for whatever reason, I don’t go past the curtain. Instead, I show everyone else to first class while I remain in coach.
If we were traveling, that would make no sense. I think anyone with a first class ticket would run to grab a seat. My husband’s shared the perks of such traveling, and I can see why it makes such a great comedy routine. A simple curtain does bring about a lot of division. First class gets the comfy slippers and good peanuts, at least back when Louie did the joke. Room to stretch. Eye masks. Coach? There’s no comparing.
Yet my relationship with my Heavenly Father because of His Son’s sacrifice is exactly the visual He showed me. I’m looking with longing to the place where the seats are plush and the benefits are amazing, all while I have the access.
Like when I took a 5 week study on Esther and the church that hosted turned their sanctuary into a part of Esther’s story each week. One week it was the throne room, and we all had opportunity to enter and spend quiet time in prayer. It was a sacred moment where we literally went behind the veil and sat on oversized pillows to pray. Even then I could feel His love and truth. I have such a heart for women to live free in Jesus I ignore the need to spend time with Him. He can handle all of us.
In fact, He wants to.
Not in a mean slave driver kind of way, but as the most compassionate loving Savior He is.
Because if Jesus traveled by plane, He would be in first class. But He’d give us the ticket and head to coach.
And the least I could do is thank Him and call on Him. Chat. Share. Sit at His feet. To get at His feet, I need to do one thing:
Go beyond the curtain.
