Rachael Lofgren tells a story of walking with Jesus when we don’t know the way. What can He mean? Where is He going with this?
Lord, you know me intimately: my then, my now, my after – as you know all that is in the universe.
I went to a Supper to taste the Christ, I was so hungry for him. So very hungry after months of vacuity, and when I received the bread he was suddenly there, in me.
I too have turned my child over to hard things, and I too have let him cry into his pillow, and sometimes I hate myself for that.
I reached inside my purse for my wallet, to see, I suppose, if an angel had miraculously tucked a fifty into one of its pockets. I knew I hadn’t, sure as death and taxes.
I have never seen a man’s back worn to shreds by a cruel whip, but I have seen crisscrossed lines of despair in the wrists of a friend.