Christian Author and Speaker
I pray as I walk the sandy lane, talking to the Father about those early days, years ago, when I was so zealous in my faith, so trusting, so willing. I remember the words written on the thin pages of my King James Bible, so vivid and distinct, as though they were freshly written with the very ink on the true papyrus used by St. Paul. The words seemed to magnify, embolden, and rise up, penetrating my spirit:
The day was the worst ever. It was neither “Good” nor “Holy,” as we now refer to the Friday of Holy Week. In the midst of the curious, the angry, the Jewish officials, and the Roman soldiers, this handful of Christ followers – the women – stood near the cross, numbed in their sorrow and despair. Their Messiah, their Lord, their Savior, had been brutally beaten – beyond recognition. Earlier, they had followed Him and the procession of onlookers as He carried His cross, sometimes falling to the ground, up the hill.
How can He possibly continue. Please God.
But He did continue.
It’s not “by chance” that our small group is discussing John, Chapter 18 this week – the week we believers refer to as “Holy Week.”
Pharoah, the ruler of Egypt – the enemy of the Israelites – detested the words of Moses and Aaron regarding God’s plan for the Israelites. He referred to their words as lies and told his overseers to “Make the work harder for the people
It’s early, but people are already settling at the beach. Couples open beach chairs and women open their books. Multi-colored umbrellas pop out of the sand in both directions, north and south, as far as I can see.
If I didn’t know Jesus, I would probably wonder what is wrong with me. You see, I want more. I’m not speaking of riches or fame. I’m speaking of time.
If I didn’t know Jesus, I would always wonder why I am on this Earth for such a short time.
He “needed” to go through Samaria. He could have gone around Samaria – out of the way, like others did, to avoid the dirty, barren route in the middle of a dry, hot day. But he went through Samaria – seeking the woman, the lost woman.
You know how it is when you’ve gone someplace you were really looking forward to – then you head home. Oftentimes that drive home is simply a boring drive. There’s nothing more to see. Your trip is over and you just want to get home. I did not want to end this awesome month-long journey in that manner!
She was truly a lovely young girl – probably a teenager – dressed in jeans and a jean jacket. Fine, thin hair. A pale complexion. Yet she didn’t appear quite like other teenage girls. As I shopped, she floated around the produce. I noticed her mother, a pretty, small, dark-haired woman, a short distance away, selecting produce as I was, yet constantly aware of her daughter’s every move. This was obviously a way of life to which she had become accustomed.
Luke Chapter 10 – Advent Reading
The Lord Jesus sends us out. We’re among the seventy-two. We might be “lambs among the wolves,” but He sends us, nonetheless.