A Prayer, and an Answer (Gen 2:18)

I clearly remember a spring day in my young adulthood, when I was standing at the clothesline behind my lovely brick apartment home, hanging out my laundry and praying God would send me just one good Christian friend. Most of my faith journey, to that point, had been just me and God. I read my Bible daily. I went to church regularly. I had a healthy prayer life. But I had no Christian friends. There was not one believer in my life with whom I felt close enough to pray, study, learn or celebrate. There was, at that time, no one close to me who didn't think I was at least a little bit crazy for putting so much hope and trust in ancient "legends."

Now, I am blessed to be positively surrounded by people of faith. Some of my old friends have become true brothers and sisters in Christ. I've met many more on the journey. I'm blessed by their encouragement and I rely on their prayers. Our conversations are richly seasoned with things not of this world. I'm pretty sure they don't think I'm crazy (or at least not ALL crazy).

Women of faith...together...the first Easter
discovering the empty tomb.

Since most of my readers are also these friends, it would be silly (and somewhat insulting) for me to try to write here about the incredible-ness of Easter. We rejoice today, together. Our joy has been more eloquently expressed in a hundreds of songs. The lessons of faith and redemption taught in dozens of sermons. My awe has been captured by authors far more talented than I, and shared in hundreds of books.

This morning, when I rose to get ready for church, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for the community of believers who have become such an important part of my life. Easter - the resurrection of our Lord and Savior -  is the most important thing we have in common. In some cases the only thing. That's okay. It is more than enough.

I still pray for those in my life who do not know the Lord. How dark must this world seem without the hope of Easter, of life, of renewal, of a Kingdom beyond this world. These dear ones do not understand why we celebrate today with more than bunnies, eggs, and jelly-beans. So I pray that God will open their eyes, that Jesus will speak to their hearts, that the Spirit of truth will draw them near.

I pray, and I celebrate.
Because I know that prayers are answered. You, my friends, are proof of that.
Will you share your own story of answered prayer?

The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." - Genesis 2:18

Time-OUT! (Mk 2:27)

A few weeks ago I made myself an outline of topics I wanted to write about for the next few weeks. My goal was to become more consistent, and to find a rhythm in my posting. I deliberately decided to ignore trickier issues like voice, relevance, and whether or not the world really needs another blogger. I enjoy writing, and I decided that it was my privilege to inflict my opinions on anyone crazy enough to read them. After all, if the title of this blog doesn't say "enter at your own risk," I think you  may want to revisit the definition of "insignificant."

So I have this outline. A to-do list, if you will.

This week was supposed to be about loving what you do. Burning the midnight oil. Having a passion for your job. It seemed like a good fit for a week that included parent-teacher conferences. I even got Jennie to make me some art! (Go, check out her website. She does some cool stuff).

I was right in theory. This week was exhausting. The midnight oil was burnt, refilled, and burnt again. I even wrote two posts about conferences earlier this week, just to vent. (Scroll down, they should be showing).

But now that the week is done, and I've survived, I'm not feeling very passionate about work. In fact, I'm feeling rather drained.

Which could be a problem, since the schedule says to write about passion.
Then again, maybe not. After all, true passion does leave us exhausted. Spent.
Perhaps because we are not able to live very long at that level of intensity. We have to have time to recharge. Reset.

God made us that way. He warned us to make time to rest. He specifically set aside one day in every week for unwinding. He even modeled it for us. "On the seventh day He rested." - Genesis 2:2.

I'm sure there's something God could have been doing that first Sabbath day. Something on His eternal to-do list. Something He could have been tweaking, improving, making better than "good." He did get right back to work on the 8th day, without an alarm clock or snooze alarm (though I'd like to believe He at least had some coffee!), because there was still plenty to be done.

That's the point, really. There's always more to be done. There's a huge gulf between "good enough" and "excellent." As much as I'd like to be excellent, all the time, at everything (and my mom will be happy to tell you I've always been that way), I'm learning that sometimes I have to accept "good enough."

So today's the day I'll rest and reset. I've already gone for a walk. I've read a book. I'm giving myself time and permission to just do whatever I want. Which will probably include folding the laundry and cleaning the kitchen, not because they are on some to-do list, or because they have to be done, but because having things clean and organized makes me feel rested.

Then tomorrow afternoon, when I take out my school-bag, I'll be able to feel the excited anticipation of renewed enthusiasm.

Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me of the real reason for the fourth commandment.

Then He said to them "The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath."  -Mk2:27 (NIV)

Wild Weather (Is 6:20)

This picture was from a good article on CNBC.com (click to follow link).

The experts are calling it Frankenstorm. Hurricane Sandy meets Nor'easter (hot wind + cold wind) during a full moon. I think the nickname is quite funny, but I know that it's really nothing to laugh at.

I'm as ready as I can be. I have an emergency radio.The flashlights all have new batteries. All my water jugs are full, I have extra water in the cupboard, and there's plenty of peanut butter, granola bars, and apples. The first aid kits are stocked (all except the neosporin - somehow I forgot to replenish that). My phone and computer are living on their chargers.

I live in a basement, though. So half of my supplies are in the car, just in case. The gas tank is full. My sister lives safely south of the "affected area," so I have a plan. 

Having just moved, I'll admit, I didn't have my emergency stuff in order; I had to go buy water Friday night. Along with about half the city, it seems, because the stores were nearly sold out of water. And bread. And beer (not that I wanted beer - I prefer just about anything else! - but I couldn't help noticing the empty shelves). My sister assures me that if I'd checked the diapers aisle that would've been low, too.

Which got me to thinking about preparedness. In my entire adult life, I've never experienced a real disaster (thankfully). I spent most of my adult life in the western Puget Sound region; a region naturally protected from too much trauma - other than the occasional mild earthquake. This past January, we endured "snowpocalypse," a massive snow and ice storm that kept the city shut down for a week. I was without power for 3 days, some friends were out longer. My main concerns during that event were 1) keeping icy branches from crushing my car and 2) cabin-fever! While living in Denver, I also experienced a couple of genuine so-called "blizzards," but a blizzard in the city looks much different than the ones you might imagine from Little House on the Prarie. All that to say, I've had no reason to be prepared.

But I (sortof) was. Ever since my first perceptible earthquake (2001) - I've had an "emergency kit." Just in case. I generally rotate the goods in it with the seasons, just to keep things fresh. So I don't really understand the shoppers who clean the shelves at the last minute. They can't all be new to town. They can't ALL have just finished unpacking and setting up a new life. They live here. There was a big wind storm here this summer. It knocked out power to parts of VA for over a week. Maybe they used up their supplies then. Maybe they should've stocked up again after that?

By Courtney Carmody, via Flickr

Which reminded me: Jesus says "no man knows the day or the hour" (Matthew 24:36) of His return. He even told a story about women, waiting for their husbands to return from a deployment, during a storm, and not having batteries in their flashlights (ok, it wasn't exactly like that, but it could have been - Matthew 25). When the end of the world finally arrives, we won't have days to prepare. We won't have alarms and storm trackers and friends and neighbors calling to be sure we have everything we need. When the end of this world of pain and suffering finally comes, it will be in the blink of an eye. 

So we need to be ready, and we need to reach out to our friends and neighbors NOW to help them be ready, because we love them, and we want them to be safe. So call someone. Share the good news.
The end *is* coming. Let's get ready together.

"Your days of grief will come to an end. I, the Lord, will be your eternal light." -Isaiah 6:20

4-3-2-1 (Prov 3:5-6)

A little more than 10 weeks ago I decided to move across the country. This is the 4th entry in a somewhat belated journal about my adventure.

As I mentioned, last time, in order to make such a big move, there were a few important things I needed to figure out. 1)      I’d need a job. 2)      I’d need a home. 3)      I’d need to figure out how to get my stuff to my new home.

Option 1: Get rid of all my stuff and start over.
This option was attractive for its elegant simplicity. No fuss, no muss. Sometime, I just might write about the three times I've done exactly that. Stuff, after all, is just stuff. So I took inventory: one well-loved couch & armchair. A beautiful bedroom set that I love. Books. Some shelves - both homemade and put-together-from-boxes (not nearly enough for the books, though).  Lovely things, but it's not like I they were antiques or heirlooms. I didn't even have a kitchen table or dishes. My treasures have always been my relationships.

---And, it turns out, the mementos of those relationships. When I sat down to inventory my life, I found just a few things I couldn't part with (or digitize).

My hope chest (custom made for me by the men in my family).

My scrapbooks (and scrapbooks in progress). Together these hold my most cherished memories.

My journal-boxes (which fill the hope chest). Journals, creative writing, playbills, graduation announcements, and other assorted mementos (and special jewelry) representing milestones in my life and the lives of those I love.

If these things were taken from me by a fire or flood, I would have to deal with it. But I could never choose to get rid of them. And since they wouldn't fit in my car anyway, selling the rest of the stuff would be foolish.

Option 2: Drive a moving van myself.
This is, after all, how my family usually moves. Rent the big white truck. Load it. Drive it. Unload it.
Unload it.
That might be a problem. See, on the loading end, I was pretty sure I could arrange for help. Since I knew no one in VA, unloading would be all me. Imagine, please, me, myself, and I moving a long horizontal dresser. Or a hope chest. Or a couch. All alone.
Yea. Not really an option.


Option 3: Hire movers
This was stressful, because it was the unknown option. I don't do well with unknowns. It was a little more expensive than renting a moving van (but not really, if I had to hire muscle to help at my destination).

I did my research, and I found out that really there's not much a customer can do beyond choosing a reputable moving company. Other than that, it's all out of your hands. Which is, after all, the point.

So, I decided to hire movers.
I got estimates.
I arranged dates.
I gave notice to my landlord.
My roommate and I started packing.







You may have noticed that I skipped #2: find a home. Um...yea. Initially, I thought I could find a place with a short term lease by doing my research online. In the 21st century, it should be easy enough to use search engines and satelite maps to start looking for apartments. Once I had a job and a zipcode, I was sure I could at least get some ideas, find safety data for neighborhoods, read reviews. With any luck I could call some managers and be pretty set before I arrived.

So I started to do all that. I made lists, and found links. Then I took a break and helped my roommate in WA find her a new place. She began her search exactly as I planned to begin mine - online. Together we went to check out some of her prospects in this city we'd lived in for 13 years.

Have you seen that commercial for ... actually, I don't even know what it's for. It ends with the "French model." Here's a link to a shortened youtube clip.  Yea.

My point is this: the internet is good for many things, but for me, at any rate, finding a new home long-distance is not one of them. We were suckered into looking at some pretty awful places in a city we knew really well. (She did find a cute place, by the way). I found myself imagining all the horrors I might get myself into if I tried to follow through on my plan. So, I gave up the internet search, and once again, found myself praying that the Lord would provide. Knowing that could mean anything. Confident I would be taken care of.

I packed up (with the help of MANY fabulous friends).
The movers came.
I turned in my keys.
And stepped out in faith.

I arrived in my new town on a Thursday morning, with no clue where I was going to live.
Friday evening I had a landlord.
Sunday I had a lease.
Monday I moved in.

My (front) door. Welcome.

The house. I have the basement.

The "across the street" neighbors.

I don't know you, but I call that a miracle.

Do you want to know the very best part?
The new apartment came with a kitchen table. And bookcases. My very own golden fleece, right there in my empty new apartment. (Not sure what I'm talking about? Check out Gideon's story in the Bible). I hadn't even asked for reassurance, but God provided it for me anyway.

Because He knows my heart, and knows that I tend to worry, doubt, and second-guess.
But, as I sit at my table and type, I'm learning to trust. How could I not?

Just over 10 weeks ago I decided to completely rearrange my life. With little savings, in a bad economy, I decided to move across the country to a state where I didn't know a single person, for no better reason than that I wanted to. Anyone with any sense will tell you that this should NEVER have worked out. Yet, it did. It did.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make straight your paths. -Proverbs 3:5-6

8-7-6-5 (Mk 10:27)

10 weeks ago I decided to move across the country. This is the 3^rd entry in a somewhat belated journal about my adventure.

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.” - Mark 10:27

In order to make such a big move, there were a few important things I needed to figure out.

1)      I’d need a job. Probably teaching, since I’m still paying off the student loans.

2)      I’d need a home.

3)      I’d need to figure out how to get my stuff to my new home.

(Nope. Didn't create this one either. Sometimes I love Google. Sometimes I hate it)

Plus I needed to finish the 2011/2012 school year. If you didn’t realize it, the last month of school is a terrifically busy time for teachers. There’s the last push to finish covering material. Projects to wrap up. Reviews. Tests. And GRADES. Not to mention all the “end of year” fluff that makes it memorable for the students and their families – field days, field trips, yearbooks, assemblies, awards and showcases. Oh, and the behind-the-scenes stuff – staff meetings, ranking lists, transition notes for next year’s teachers, debriefing curriculum maps, and planning necessary changes for next year.

So, I had to prioritize. Since I don’t like commuting, I decided to tackle finding a job first.

Goal:  any teaching or other position in 3^rd – 8^th grade for which I am qualified.  In a VA district within a 4 hour drive of Raleigh. Not more than 2 hours from ocean access.

Strategy : Apply everywhere. Pray for the right doors to open.

Turns out that everywhere within my boundaries includes more than 35 school divisions (districts). Most with their own online application portal. After eliminating a few that were too rural, or listed a pay rate far lower than my current salary, I still had 25 reasonable candidates.

Prayerfully I began filling out packets and answering questions.

Lord, please lead me to a job. Help my application stand out from the crowd. Surely, there’s got to be some district that needs a teacher with my skills. Please, open a door. I just need one reasonable offer. 

As I filled out applications, more questions came up.

It was clear that VA has an openness to out of state candidates. There appeared to be openings, but were districts truly hiring outside candidates? A lot of districts in the Puget Sound area had posted openings that were filled by internal candidates, or teachers who had been RIF’d (laid off) due to continuing budget problems. What if all the openings I was seeing were the same type of phantom openings? Would I be able to get a job from out of state? Could I perhaps do some preliminary phone interviews, then arrange to fly out for a week early in the summer and do a bunch of in person interviews all at once?

If I couldn’t find a full-time teaching position, what else could I do? Could I get work in a district office, doing something clerical? Or working with the assessment folks? I knew I could probably sub, but would that pay the bills? No matter what, I was taking a pay cut moving to VA. And I would have to pay state taxes. And I didn’t have a roommate any more. Could I afford part-time work? How long would it be before I was working daycare again? Waiting tables?

A hundred questions. A hundred uncertainties. A hundred reasons to change my mind.

(Another image I did not create. I really need to get more creative.)

Funny, though, I never once considered NOT going.  

I was acting on my new understanding of God the Provider. I was trusting in my assurance that this was “okay” with my Heavenly Father, and that He would be with me, come what may.  

• 10 weeks ago, I decided to move across country.
• 9 weeks ago, I turned in the first of many job application packets.
• 8 weeks ago, I got my first interview, over the phone. The possibility that I could get a job from a phone (or Skype?) interview hadn’t really occurred to me before. I was excited. That would save me the costs of a trip. I began to pray for just such an opportunity.
• 7 weeks ago, I sent my 7^th group of students off for their summer vacation. I decided to allow myself two more weeks to focus on the job hunt, then I’d have to work on the other details.
• 6 weeks ago, I finished submitting the 25^th and final packet. I had never heard back from that first interview. I faced the possibility that I might be moving without a job. I prayed for wisdom. I prayed for confidence.
• 5 weeks ago, I had my second phone interview. On Tuesday. OnThursday, I had a job.

From a phone interview.

Because with God, truly, all things are possible.

10-9-8 (Jn 10:10)

So... 10 weeks ago (June 4th, about 3 am) I decided to move (if you didn't read part one of this move-journal "what's in your heart," you might want to do that now). I decided to take a walk with God-the-provider, and see what happened.

Now, don't get me wrong. I understand that there are many levels of provision. I recognized that I could very well find myself on bread and water for the next 40 years. While that would be quite a change from the salmon and steak I've become accustomed to, I wasn't worried.

I was excited. Like a kid at Christmas. Tingly, giggly, cannot sleep excited.
So I quit trying to sleep and started lining up ducks.


First - decide where, exactly, to go.
Closer to family, which was part of the "why," meant the East Coast. There's a lot of choices there. Just to prove I can summarize a little, I won't go through the whole process of elimination with you. After all, it took less than 5 minutes in my head, it seems only fair to keep it short for you. In the end, I decided on NC, SC, or VA.

In Bible times, this would be where they sent out a scouting party. Joshua checking out Jericho. Me, I've got the internet. By dawn I knew the licensing requirements for teachers in all three states. NC was out, on the grounds that they would make me take expensive qualifying tests. I'm a great test-taker, but a horrible saver, plus, taking qualifying tests to do a job I was already doing didn't sit well with me. SC didn't require the tests, but did warn that they might be requested at a later time. VA wanted 3+ years of teaching experience, no expensive tests required. I had a winner.

And it "felt" right.

My sis was a little dissappointed that I ruled out NC so early. I never really reconsidered. I did try to seriously consider SC, but it was farther from my parents and brother's family. I also just felt more peaceful about VA. I like to believe it was a little Holy Spirit soothing.


I'm not saying God called me to VA. Maybe He did, and time will tell. But I am saying that he approved of my desire to go there.

Parents, you know what I mean. Junior asks if he borrow the car to go see the newest alien invaders movie with his friends. You might wish he'd stay home, enjoy any of the hundreds of DVD's you already have, and save his money. Or go to the park. Or go visit grandma, who misses him. Or clean his room. Or at least wait until the movie comes to the cheap theater.  But you can see the desire of his heart is to have this adventure with his friends, at this time. So you say, "okay," and you give him the keys. Gladly. Because you trust him, and his friends, and you know he'll make wise choices.

As I pondered this move, more verses came to mind, assuring me that God was in this, God was OK with this. God created me with a desire for adventure. Jesus came that I might live life abundantly. For too long I had been living as a slave to imagined "shoulds." I should settle down. I should be content with a life that many would consider a complete success. I should NOT take risks in this economy. I have a job, I should just stick it out. I should NOT leave my friends. I should be happy.

I had subconsciously turned my great God (partly) into a cosmic King Midas. You remember him, don't you? In his desire to make everything in his kingdom perfect, Midas stifled his own beloved daughter - nearly killed her. I knew God loved me, but I felt chained by beauty and love and friendship and security and comfort. Golden chains, it turns out, are still chains.

As I considered my options, I remembered a few more kingdom principles. Family is important. God created the whole planet, and there is more beauty in it than just Puget's Sound (though it's hard to imagine anything topping that view). God got me the job I had in University Place, He could surely get me another. True friendships can survive time and distance.

Most importantly, God is not King Midas.

So by 6 am I had called my sister and told her the news.
By 8am I had told my boss.
Just two weeks after having re-decorated my classroom to be better organized for next school year, I was telling my boss that I wouldn't be back after all.

And so I began filling out paperwork to get my credentials in VA. I began applying online for jobs. I began trusting that somehow it would all work out.

I began my adventure. And I felt alive!

The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy;
I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full. - John 10:10

What's in your heart? (PS 37:4)

Take delight in the Lord,and he will give you the desires of your heart. 

(I did not make this picture. I haven't been to a sunny, sandy beach this year. Yet?)

Oh my goodness! If I didn't know this was true before this journey, I would certainly be convinced now.
I'd like to spend the next few days sharing a snapshot of the last 10 weeks of my life. If I were a different person, I could use less words and fit it all into one post. But if you know me, you know "succint" is not in my toolkit.

As I shared in an earlier post, my motto for the last couple years has been "love the life you live." Paul and Timothy both touted the virtues of contentment. I have made a point - almost a discipline - of noticing and being thankful for the little blessings that God had poured out on me. 12 weeks ago, I had one of those great weeks that are easy to enjoy. Dinner with a friend. Checkups with the dentist and the eye doctor. Lining up easy work for the summer, and looking forward to vacation. Preparing for the end of the school year, and planning ahead for the next one. Organizing. Cleaning. A friend even came into my classroom one weekend to help me re-arrange posters so the walls would be ready for September. Ballet with yet another friend, and chosing shows to see the following season.

Then, June 3 (just over 10 weeks ago), in a sermon series on the Lord's prayer, we hit the phrase "give us this day our daily bread." Simple, right? Just a handy reminder that God's our ultimate provider, that He wants us to rely on Him, and that He's happy to give us what we need.

Unless you dwell on it. Simple doesn't stay simple for long when you really think about it.
"Give us this day our daily bread."
Like He did for the Israelites in the desert. When they didn't know what to expect or how they would survive, God rained down mana from heaven. Simple fare. Basic. But it met their needs. They rejoiced. It was like nothing they'd ever had before. It was amazing. They were satisfied.

Until they weren't. They complained. Still the food came.
Then they whined about the other petty problems they had. Still the food came.
Then they turned to an idol. A golden cow. An idol it took them days to make.
Still the food came. Every morning. While they used their talents and treasures to create a statue to worship.

Still the food came.

WOW! That understanding blew me away. Literally blew open the doors of my mind.

Now, some of you will read this and go "duh." I think that's the way spiritual maturity is supposed to work, and I'm glad. I've been a Christian for 20+ years, and am also glad I still get surprised by God. It makes my heart dance when I figure out some new truth.

And for me, that's what happened early on the morning of June 4. I finally truly understood that God takes care of His own, always. ALWAYS. Once you trust your life to Jesus, commit to following Him, no matter what wilderness might appear, God will always provide for you. I'd spent most of my journey walking with God the Protector. Now I was finding myself face-to-faith with God the Provider.

Whose Spirit reminded me of another familiar word - the one at the top of this post.

You see, as much as I loved my life 12 weeks ago, I felt restless. Incomplete. Frustrated. I wanted ... something. But I was afraid to reach out and try to find it because I could see what a good life I had. I felt like the most ungrateful wretch being dissatisfied in any way with such a lovely life. God had blessed me in so many ways. How could I not just be still and enjoy them? Turns out, I was not made to sit still.

Turns out that one of the desires of my heart was to move.
To see some more of "God's green Earth."
To challenge myself in the million ways you do when you move.
To be nearer my family and watch my nieces and nephew grow up.
To be where the sun shines more often than not.

I *do* love the life I left behind. I love my friends. The beautiful scenery. The temperate weather. The safety of the school and community where I lived.

But I also love adventure.

And I trust that God will provide. Because more than anything, I love my God. And He promised that He's got me covered.

A moment in time

A while back, someone posed the following question as a warm-up to a Bible-study group I'm in: "If you could take one (round) trip on a time machine absolutely anywhen - past or future - when would you visit?"

Think about that for a minute. What would you wish?

The dozen-or-so people in my group had some great answers. One would visit a time of national tragedy as a pair of helping hands. One would visit the past with some tips on sanitation that would save countless lives. One wanted to look back a generation and try to understand her own parents better. A few wanted to peek into the future, to see how things turned out for their children and their children's children. 

So again...what would you wish?

Interestingly, only one of us chose to visit Bible-times. The Garden of Eden, to be exact.
Remember, this is a Bible study group. We're all believers. We all look eagerly toward the day when we'll be face-to-face with the glorified Christ in Heaven. But given the chance to time-travel, none of us wished to visit Him during His ministry here on Earth.

Why?
I can't speak for anyone else, but I have given a lot of thought to my own reluctance.
As usual, for me, there's not one easy answer.

There's the "good" answer. And the more real answer. They both boil down to the same key word: DOUBT.

The good answer is extracted from Jesus' own words to "doubting Thomas." Remember Thomas? He's the apostle who couldn't accept that Jesus was really back from the dead that first Easter until he had put his own fingers into the Lord's wounds. Jesus let Thomas poke away until Tom was satisfied that the man in front of him truly was the One he expected to rule. When Thomas declared "It is you!," Jesus replied, "because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

So that's the good answer. I believe without seeing, so I am differently blessed than those who touched, saw, and believed. I wouldn't want to loose the sweetness of that absolute faith. Each day, I rely on the Spirit of God in ways the early disciples didn't have to. It is only through God-in-Me that my faith grows, that I understand the universe, that I live with confidence that there is more to life than the "reality" that confronts me each day. That reliance draws me closer to God. I wouldn't jeopardize that for a moment.

Lovely thought, isn't it. And true. And yet... not all there is to my hesitation to step back into His path. After all, I know Jesus didn't love Thomas any less for wondering. I expect to meet him in Heaven. His story is proof, in the Bible, that Jesus understands our need to probe and question.

The more real answer is, of course, far messier and less pious.

I didn't choose to go back to Jesus's time because I was afraid that He wouldn't have time for me. That He wouldn't see me, notice me, hear me, care about me. Throughout His ministry he was surrounded by THRONGS of people. Thousands came to hear him preach. At least 3 times he had to "escape" the crowd. I wasn't willing to take the chance that I'd be just another face in that crowd. If Jesus didn't know me, didn't have time for me, couldn't see me or recognize me, I'd be lost.

I'm glad "God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believe in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." However, sometimes I need to know God cares just about ME, not about the whole world.

This spring I've spent some time re-reading the gospels. Looking at the individuals Jesus did encounter. Mary and Martha. Jairus, the official with the dying daughter. The blind man He healed with spit. Lazarus, for whom He wept. The woman at the well. The adulteress He saved from execution. Zaccheus. The Samaritan leper. The bleeding woman.

I've learned something important. Yes, Jesus did teach the crowd. Because God did send Him for the whole world. But He also made time for the individuals who sought him out. Zaccheus sat in a tree just hoping for a glimpse of the Lord passing by, and Jesus decided to come to his house for dinner. The bleeding woman snuck up on Him, so convinced of her own worthlessness that she didn't even want to ask for help or attention. He praised her for her faith. Jairus was an official at the synagogue - representing the very institutions that would have Jesus killed - yet, the He went into his house and rescued his young daughter.

So... I've learned that Jesus would have noticed me. He would have heard me, and even stopped to talk to me. He would have cared about me. I would not have been just a face in the crowd. The Spirit of God, the divine Comforter my Lord sent when He returned to Heaven, taught me that.
I've never been so glad to be wrong...and right...at the same time.


As for time-travel, maybe I'll visit doubting Thomas - after the Ascension, of course. It seems he and I might have a lot to talk about.