It would be lovely, and cheesy, to put up a large flowery picture of JESUS.
However, while I’m sure it’s true, I’m not one of those people who has always felt him there like a numinous cloud hovering behind my left shoulder, offering support and reassurance. I’m very much a footprints-in-the-sand type of guy, often inferring his presence only when I look back at a single trail of footprints and realise we must have both been hopping.
Or however the poem goes.
So anyway, here is the agent Jesus chooses to use. I give you: Old Father Time.