I keep seeing him carrying the cross! It brings weeping… It brings deep sadness to my heart as I picture it. Imagine lifting a crosstie on your shoulder. Imagine doing that after your back was beaten to the point that muscle, ribs and tendons were exposed. Imagine the burning in your muscles as you were…
He had seen several crucifixions. He had walked past and witnessed the cruelty of the cross. He saw how it looked… he had heard the suffering… he observed the agony. Our Savior knew what was coming. On this night in 33AD our Jesus felt unrelenting stress. He felt crushing anguish. As he cried…
Really? How can this be? I knew he was special… I saw him perform so many miracles but to bring himself back to life? It must be a mistake, it simply can’t be. Then Thomas saw him. “See my hands Thomas. Touch the hole in my side. Believe…Thomas, because I love you”. I try…
He had seen so many crucified but none had been beaten so badly. Wounds so deep. Thorns so sharp. Hatred so intense. This centurion had hardened his heart because there had been so many. But this one was different. This one seemed to endure the pain with a purpose. Then it happened. Middle of the…
So I’ve spent this week in prayer and concentration on the cross and the mystery that is the life of Jesus. As I meditate on the six hours… on the moment he committed his life to his father… it causes such a bag of mixed emotion. At that moment, in that instant, it didn’t matter…
Why do we look for answers with impatience? Why do we struggle with faith not knowing for sure in our hearts that he will show up? We worry… we get impatient… we want our way, in our time. We look to our own understanding with no regard to his ways… his time. We make our…
Why do we insist on putting God in a box so we can understand? When thoughts of God take us out of our comfort zone we rationalize his ways… his power… his infinite wisdom. We try to put him into terms that make sense to us. I don’t truly understand how gravity works but…
His question was “how often do you read your bible and when do you pray”? As I ministered to his needs my simple answer was “What does it matter”? God does not want us to keep a check list or a time table on how often we do things. We are not making points simply…
Deeper and deeper. I never knew that as I studied and prayed more each day that I would see his face… I would look into his eyes… his heart. Now MY heart is not mine to keep but wholly his. As a common man I fear that he will lose faith in me. That he will see the ugliness…
Where do you find your hope? I listened from afar and I could tell she was upset and worried. As she helped with my purchase I simply asked “I know you have a struggle how can I pray for you?” She told me of her brain illness as she started to cry. I told her I would pray…