Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. (I Cor. 9:24-25)

Every spring my P.E. teacher would send us out on cross country runs. I was the worst whiner, complaining to my friends about side stitches and the torture of this type of exercise. As fate would have it, I married and promptly moved to the famous running community of Eugene, Oregon which boasts the likes of Prefontaine, Mary Slaney, and Alberto Salazar. My husband, too, joined the running craze, so one day I put on my sneakers, stepped out the door and scurried around the block, managing to propel myself forward for five full minutes. Hmm, I thought, maybe I CAN do this. After all, I’ve given birth to babies, so what’s a little sweating and huffing and puffing? Soon I worked up to fifteen minutes a day, then thirty.

My husband ran 10K races and even won some prizes. I never entertained those kind of dreams—my times were too slow. It never crossed my mind to train very seriously because I didn’t believe that I could win anything. I ran to get a little exercise and keep my weight down. It was only a hobby.

Many Christians appear to have the same attitude. We know we’re no Mother Teresa, Beth Moore, or even as spiritually fit as the pastor’s wife, so why put much effort into our spiritual lives? Our attitude says: I could never be a “spiritual professional,” so why not take it easy and bask in the sunlit glory of others?

But Paul says to “run in such a way as to win the prize.” The Christian race cannot be a hobby; it must be a passion that consumes our whole life.

Despite wonderful support and encouragement from believing friends, ultimately, Christian running is not a team sport, but an individual one. In this race a crown awaits every single participant. In a very real sense, each runner is competing against himself, not others.

Comparison games are futile anyway. By what standard could we accurately measure the unique differences people face in their challenges? Only the “Sovereign Judge of Life’s Race” has the ability to comprehend all our gasping, panting and laboring as we strain toward the goal—He alone sees the terrain from beginning to end that each of us must travel; He alone recognizes the type of obstacles each of us must face; and He alone understands the many liabilities we carry within.

Despite running an individual race, we are not running alone—we’re observed by two audiences. The first is a heavenly one: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us…run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1) The angels and saints are cheering us on! In the same way that God is for us, this invisible crowd is on our team. Can you hear them, going wild in the stands…for you? Come on, let’s step up the pace!

Secondly, we run before an earthly audience. Family, friends, and even strangers are watching us—we have a responsibility to them by how we live. Will we run in such a way that inspires others to follow?

By God’s grace, whether we’re ungracefully knocking down hurdles, flying like the wind, or only limping our way forward, may our wholehearted passion for the Lord be unmistakable as we keep our eyes on the prize.

(A new rendition of David’s song with apologies to King David—lifted from the 18th Psalm. Rewritten for the purpose of internalizing, not with the intent to improve! Excerpted from Psalm 18:1-19, 25-36, 46-49.)

I love you, O Lord. Not another God and no one else comes even a close second. I love you, oh Strength of My Life. You are my Rock, my stability, the place I can anchor my whole life and know that the foundations of my existence can never be moved or shaken. As my Rock you are a secure footing on which to stand.

You are my fortress, my safe and secure place, a refuge, a place of peace and quiet, to which I can go when the world advances on me, O my Deliverer. You rescue me from all trials and tribulations, both now and those to come.

You are my shield; you place yourself between me and the fiery darts of the enemy. When I stay behind you, I am kept safe.

I call to you and I am saved from my enemies. Not I will be, but I am.

But cords of death entangle me. Life is closing in and I can hardly breathe. See how I keep getting pulled under as torrents of destruction wash over me? I’m in distress. Lord, help! Hear me!

In my mind’s eye the earth trembles and quakes, the mountains shake violently because of your red hot anger, because of the smoke coming from your nostrils. You’re furious with my enemies and you’re going to do something about it! Suddenly You part the heavens and descend, stomping on dark clouds at your feet. You leap onto the cherubim and fly, soaring on the wings of the wind, moving quickly to save me. I watch you advancing stealthily, first under a covering of darkness, then your bright Presence explodes out of the clouds, unleashing a torrent of hailstones and great bolts of lightning. Your arrows have routed my enemies, Lord!

In the fury of your justice, the valleys of the sea are exposed and the foundations of the earth laid bare at your rebuke. Yes, things that were long hidden in deep darkness are now exposed and dealt with.

And now I gasp as I see Your great arms reaching down from on high towards me. You grip me firmly by the hands, pulling, pulling me out of deep waters, this dreadful place where the waves of destruction have continually pummeled me. You’ve done it, Lord, you’ve rescued me! My enemies were too strong for me, but they could not stand against You. Now I see how You were my support all along.

You’ve brought me out into a spacious place…I love this place where I can breathe freely, where I have room to grow, where I have a wider sphere of influence to do good.

You rescued me because You delighted in me! This seems hard to accept because how can you delight in me when I have so many flaws? But You do! You are my Delight, too, Lord!

To the faithful you show yourself faithful, to the blameless you show yourself blameless, to the pure you show yourself pure…(It’s hard to grasp that in Christ You really see me faithful, blameless and pure). But to the crooked you show yourself shrewd. I’m glad that You handle the crooked and that they can’t pull one over on You.

You save the humble but bring down those with pride in their eyes. And it’s You, Lord who keep my lamp, my hope, burning; You alone turn my darkness (my sin and all the things I don’t understand about my life) into light. With Your help I can do anything, even take the offensive against an army of heavenly forces. And with You I can leap over a wall, flying over hurdles that seem impossible in my life.

Who is God besides You, Lord? And who is the Rock except You? You are the One who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect. I seem to have so little control over my path and it certainly does not seem perfect to me. So I trust you with the process that the things I don’t understand will work out.

You make my feet like those of a deer, surefooted, to be able to scale the heights, even spiritual heights I’ve never known before.

You are the one who trains my hands for battle; my arms can bend even a very powerful bow. Help me to remember this when I am battling heavenly forces. I have no reason to think that I cannot prevail, that I won’t be strong enough, because You are the One who trained me for what I must face.

You go before me and broaden my path, so that my ankles do not turn. You want to prevent me from stumbling!

You are also the One who gives the victory. Your right hand guarantees that I will overcome. Your victory truly is a shield behind which I am protected from the evil one forever.

You live, Lord! Praise be to You, my Rock! Most exalted are You, my Savior! You are the God who avenges me, who saves me, who rescues me. Therefore I will praise you among the nations; I will praise you among strangers and friends alike, O Lord.

I’m singing, singing, singing…praise be to Your Name.

I absolutely loved Christmas as a child. My parents outdid themselves every year, making the most of the little they had, pouring all their heart and love into the celebration for us kids. And it was truly magical.

Once I had children of my own I wanted the same for them and expected that I would continue to relive the excitement of the season in my heart as well. However, though I kept trying to re-create the wonder and joy of my childhood, I was repeatedly disappointed. More decorations, more presents, more cookies, more traditions. I flitted about in a frenzy of doing. Soon I was completely overwhelmed. Not even more quiet moments by candlelight with my kids satisfied me. I began to wonder, “Why am I feeling so empty during the holidays? As a Christian shouldn’t I be reveling in the joy of it all?”

One day it occurred to me that I was looking for Christmas in all the wrong places. Wasn’t Christmas about Jesus? How had I missed this? In my efforts to re-create the magic of the season for my children, I had lost sight of its true meaning.

After this, I made a point to do less and enjoy Him more. I rejoiced over the Christmas carols that proclaimed His name as I shopped in the stores. I spent more time reflecting on the Christmas story and its meaning. I pared down my decorations, curtailed the activities, and baked less—we didn’t need the calories anyway. As a result, I’ve been able to enjoy the holidays much more.

For sure, Jesus is Christmas and Christmas is Jesus. And because He is Emmanuel, God with us, I will forever carry Christmas in my heart.

With love and prayers for peace throughout the holiday season,

Ruth

I spread out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. Selah. (Psalm 143:6)

Ever since we moved into our new house on the lake, I’ve enjoyed watching the cormorants this time of year, especially when they pose on the dock, wings outstretched. For a long time I’ve wanted to capture this scene on camera, and today I finally succeeded in snapping a photo for you.

The first time I observed a cormorant in its spread-winged pose, I was surprised by how long it remained immobile. “Come look at this bird,” I called to my husband, “it’s worshiping!”

I learned that their striking pose has a practical purpose. Despite spending much time in the water, cormorants do not possess the waterproofing oil of other seabirds and so must spend much time drying their wings.

Interestingly, these birds are a common feature in heraldry and medieval ornamentation, most often depicted in their “wing-drying” pose, seen as representing the Christian cross. For example, the Norwegian municipalities of Røst, Loppa and Skjervøy have cormorants in their coat-of-arms. Apparently people have always seen something special about these birds.

Psalm 48 says, “Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all ocean depths…small creatures and flying birds… If you’re ever privileged to observe cormorants, it will appear that they heed this Psalm.

I wonder if God created these birds to serve as a gentle reminder of the worship due Him. Whenever I look out my window and see a cormorant lifting its wings heavenward, my heart flies to the Lord with praise, honor and glory.

The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it…(Psalm 24:1)

Cormorant Facts:
Cormorants, also known as shags, are medium-to-large seabirds. The majority, including nearly all Northern Hemisphere species, have mainly dark plumage, but some Southern Hemisphere species are black and white, and a few are quite colorful. The bill is long, thin, and sharply hooked. Their feet are four-toed and webbed.

Humans have historically exploited cormorants’ fishing skills in China, Japan, and Macedonia, where they have been trained by fishermen. A snare is tied near the base of the bird’s throat, which allows the bird only to swallow small fish. When the bird captures and tries to swallow a large fish, the fish is caught in the bird’s throat. When the bird returns to the fisherman’s raft, the fisherman helps the bird to remove the fish from its throat.

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him…” (I Corinthians 2:9)

Why do we suffer? People throughout the ages have struggled with this question and I have too. My natural inclination is to recoil at the prospect of pain and maneuver to avoid it. Only masochists pronounce suffering good.

And yet…

Things are never what they seem, are they? Though you won’t convince me to label suffering, in and of itself, anything but evil, I do suspect that it’s a gift in disguise.

The apostle Paul writes, “If we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.” (Romans 8:17)

As I meditated on this verse, I wondered what God was thinking when He made man. What you read below is just my imagination helping me sort through some intriguing ideas. Maybe these thoughts will stimulate your thinking as well.

What if God said something like this when explaining Project Earth to the angels:

“I want royal offspring. I want to lavish my love on sons and daughters made in my image and to rejoice in their love for me. I want to see the astonishment and joy on their faces when I unveil my glory and they get to share in it. I want them beside me as we rule my kingdom together for all eternity.

But my heart is troubled, because in order for them to share the deepest level of intimacy with me, they must catch a glimpse of how I sacrifice so that true love may exist. Moment by moment I must allow rejection from beings I love and cherish. For freely-given love to exist, I must also allow choices made against my character and endure the consequent horror—pain, chaos, and devastation throughout my creation—while everything in me wants to leap into the fray and annihilate evil immediately. Does not my great Spirit grieve at all the sin I see committed under the sun, day after day?

My sacrificial suffering lies at the heart of who I am—how can my children become mature sons and daughters without some comprehension of the cost I pay for love? Though no one will know what it is like for me to pay this price, each human shall receive a glimpse into the window of suffering. Not because I am mean-spirited, but because I want to share my heart.

I also must consider how I can best groom my offspring to rule with me. I am only too aware of what it takes to govern—the wisdom, the experience and the character needed. Humans will not be able to fulfill the glorious destiny I have planned for them unless they understand this aspect of MY existence.

Keep in mind that I will decree a finite time for suffering—only about seventy years for individuals and a contained season of struggle in mankind’s history. What is, say, 10,000 years compared to eternity?

Does freely given (as opposed to robotic) love make all this messiness, pain and sacrifice worth it? I assure you it does, it does…”

The Bible says that “we shall reign with Him” one day. (II Timothy 2:12) Perhaps God doesn’t want a spoiled, clueless princess in His throne room. Perhaps the rule we are created for requires a kind of grooming.

God did not spare His own Son this process:

Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered…(Hebrews 5:8)

In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering. (Hebrews 2:10)

God has many good reasons for putting up with suffering, but it invigorates my faith to think a little outside the usual picture frame. I’d love to hear some of your thoughts on the subject!

P.S. I’m reading a great book right now by Randy Alcorn called, “If God is Good…” If you struggle in this area, I recommend you buy it right away! It’s excellent.

Earlier this month my friends Irene, Tom, Stephanie, Mike and I decided we’d bike around Crater Lake rim. After reading all about it online, I figured it would maybe take three hours, four tops, to cover the thirty-three miles around the lake. After all, I could easily bike in one hour a twelve-mile route I’d done many times from my house.

Ha!

If we had driven the rim by car before I got on my bike and started up that first hill, I would never in my craziest dreams believed I could do this. The peak elevation rose to 8100 feet—by the time we finished our ride we had ascended a total of 3800 feet.

It was the most demanding physical challenge I’ve ever attempted. How can I describe those six-and-a-half hours on my bike?

Slow agonizing ascents, breath-taking views of the glittering sapphire lake, jelly legs, wild exhilaration on every long downhill, the yellow sun in a forget-me-not-blue sky, the pavement’s baking heat, the roar of passing cars and RVs, the fresh scent of pine, a gentle breeze now and then, gasping, panting, stomach cramps, dry lips, silent “fellowship of suffering” moments with my biking comrades, the scurrying of a chipmunk, the respite of a waterfall, increasing numbness in my you-know-what, the thrill of learning “only three more miles to go”, the dismay at seeing those three miles rise into switchbacks…

The elation of “I did it!”

After arriving at the lodge, we relaxed on the back patio overlooking the lake, and I celebrated by ordering a well-deserved virgin pina colada. We had dinner reservations as well, and for once I gave zero thought to calories! The meal was one of the finest I’ve enjoyed in ages.

And yes, the ride made me reflect on life. It was quickly evident that I was the slowest and least fit of our group. Yet my friends took turns keeping me company so I wasn’t straggling in last all alone. When my bike chain jammed, Irene stayed behind to help. On one excruciating hill, to help me keep my mind off the pain, Tom launched into a fascinating discourse on “The Fine Tuning of the Universe.” Mike helped me tackle another long hill with his stories about a recent trip to Ghana. He got very fond of saying, “I see hope” whenever the crest of a hill appeared. Inspiring words to share with a struggling friend.

Just like on my ride, we need companions who will encourage us on this journey called life. Sometimes they need to stay close by to “talk us up a steep incline.” Sometimes they need to come alongside and lighten our load a bit like Stephanie who graciously took my backpack and carried it the last half of the trip.

And I suspect that like my Crater Lake experience, if we knew what our future held and what climbs we still need to labor through, it would seem like an impossible feat. However, because the Holy Spirit continues to fuel our endurance, someday we will reach our destination regardless of how steep the last incline. Surely part of the elation of heaven will be that we’ve completed a journey that took everything we had at times.

So take heart and keep pedaling—we’ve got dinner reservations up yonder!

Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit. Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. (Eph. 5:18-20)

In the last post I compared our earthly journey to an expedition up Mt. Everest with the Holy Spirit as our Guide.

For our spiritual safety we see how important it is to stay near Him. But how do we do that in a practical sense?

Be filled with the Spirit.

I like Ray Pritchard’s definition of the filling of the Spirit. He says it’s what happens when the Holy Spirit has the controlling interest in your life. But it is “control by consent.”

Drunken and Spirit-filled people have one thing in common. They are both controlled people. Their lives and their behavior are radically changed by that which fills them.

—If a man is filled with anger, then anger controls his life.
—If a man is filled with greed, then greed dominates his life.
—If a man is filled with love, then love influences all he does.

Here’s a critical distinction. Being filled with the Holy Spirit doesn’t mean I have more of the Spirit; it means the Spirit has more of me. Being filled with the Spirit happens as you continually choose to live under his influence.

In His Presence

The second part of today’s scripture passage deals with another aspect of living under the influence of the Spirit, “… Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks…”

This has to do with living in the Lord’s Presence. There are many ways that we can practice being in the presence of the Lord: Bible reading, prayer, and service. However, one that is often neglected in our harried Western society is simply sitting at Jesus feet like Mary. Taking time to listen. Practicing the contemplative spiritual disciplines. Worshiping.

If we’re in a climber’s group and we always linger at the back of the crowd, we’d never get to know our guide very well. In the same way, the closer we stay near our Heavenly Guide, the better we’ll get at discerning His voice and hearing His instructions for the journey.

What kinds of things are keep us from walking more closely with our Guide? Are we distracted by other climbers around, playing the comparison game? Darting off on other paths, taking detours? Paralyzed with fear when danger challenges us? The Bible says, “Come near to God, and He will come near to you.” (James 4:8a)

Try This Exercise:

Spend some time “setting up camp” in the Lord’s Presence. Imagine erecting your tent, brewing a cup of tea, and settling around the camp fire to enjoy some quality time with your best Friend and Faithful Guide.

Put on your favorite Christian music, close your eyes and listen for His voice as you ponder these questions:

What is the Holy Spirit saying about who He is?
What is the Holy Spirit saying about who you are?
Even without answers to any whys, is He giving some specific instructions for your life right now? For taking the next step?

After listening, journal what you heard.

This exercise has been a great blessing to me. I’m praying it will refresh and energize your “climbing expedition” with the Lord too!

Much love,

Ruth

Yikes, the algebra class I’m taking is making me start to think in terms of equations/variables/algebraic expressions…. and it’s affecting how I think spiritually!

Yesterday I was driving home from class and my mind drifted to the challenges of life. I got to thinking:

Just stating a negative about your life makes you sound like a whiner, and besides, that’s not the whole truth.

Equally so, stating only the positive, can come off trite and pollyanna-ish, like you’re not acknowledging difficulties.

Take the following expressions for example:

My knee injury is the pits (-a).

Jesus is at work and uses all things for His glory (b).

How you put the two statements together makes a difference. The word “but” can create trouble depending on what kind of meaning you’re after:

My knee injury is the pits, BUT Jesus is at work using all things for His glory.

Here BUT appears to CANCEL OUT the first part of the statement. We tend to say things like this to diminish or get rid of pain with words or to appear pious.

When speaking about the reality of “what is”, it’s more correct to say:

My knee injury is the pits, AND (+) Jesus is at work using all things in my life for His glory.

-a + b = The whole truth

But let’s say we want to compare the VALUE of the two realities (-a) and (b). With Romans 8:18 in mind (I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us), it’s definitely appropriate to use the < symbol:

My knee injury is the pits (-a), YET (<) Jesus is at work using all things for His glory (b).

-a < b

How about that? Did you ever suspect that math can speak deep spiritual truth?

But I’d better stop here. Perhaps these musings won’t add up correctly, but this sure was a fun exercise in “spiritual logic.”

I always dreamed of having a cat that could go on road trips sleeping peacefully on the back seat window rest. So we started training our new kitten to ride in the car with frequent short outings and she adjusted great. I was delighted.

Recently, I needed to pick up my husband from the airport. Because he is absolutely crazy about our cat, I thought it would be fun to bring her along as a welcome home surprise. No matter that she was now grown and hadn’t ridden in the car for a while. I decided here was the purrfect opportunity to catch up on some long-neglected training.

So I climbed in the car, settled the cat on my lap, and off we went on our little adventure. She seemed a bit nervous but stayed put. “Good kitty. Everything will be okay,” I reassured her with lots of petting while keeping the other hand firmly on the steering wheel. When she buried her face in my jacket, my heart swelled with affection. Just like old times, I thought, and so cute. I didn’t worry when she started trembling. After all, she had always gotten over that stage pretty quickly when she was a kitten. I continued to murmur soothing words of comfort. We were well on our way to the airport when her body finally relaxed under my constant stroking. I smiled to myself as we zoomed along the freeway. What a fun surprise awaited my husband!

Suddenly, I felt something very warm and wet against my legs. “What? No! Stop, Kitty!”

Okay, Ruth, breathe. Keep your eyes on the road. Can’t toss her off or it will get all over the car. Accckkk, Help! I’m driving down the freeway while my cat is…

Yes, can you believe it? So there I sat as the cat…went and went and went. All over me, all over the car seat. Oh yeah, cats’ bladders have an amazing capacity. And the smell! Oh my goodness. I rolled down the window a bit and smiled sheepishly at a passing car—”Hello, nice normal person. You’d never guess I’m sitting here completely SOAKED!!!”

Needless to say, all my romantic dreams of traveling with kitty evaporated that day.

And that is why I’m mad at my cat. Now you know…

P.S. The picture is an actual photograph of said animal.

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. ~ John 19: 25

This can’t be happening.

Rabboni, why would they arrest you? You are the most righteous man I’ve ever met. What will happen to you, to us all? Surely they will find you innocent.

Prisons are terrible places; are you cold or hungry? Oh, I wish I could bring you a cloak and some food.

The chief priests and Pharisees have you in their talons, but aren’t they just trying to intimidate you? You are the Messiah—won’t you somehow miraculously escape?

“No, Peter! It can’t be true. They’re crucifying my Lord? You say the crowds turned against him? The very people who only a few days ago waved palm fronds and shouted “Hosanna to the Son of David?” Why didn’t anyone come to his defense? Cowards! They are all cowards!”

He’s being taken to Golgatha? I must hurry to Jerusalem. Perhaps there’s some small thing I can still do for my Lord.

***

Jehovah, have mercy on us. Deliver your son. Is he not destined to save Israel? The Messiah can’t die, can he?

My Lord, I can’t bear to think about losing you. I don’t see how I will be able to go on. How can the sun shine if you are taken away?

I see your beautiful face, the compassion, warmth and tenderness in your eyes, and the glint of sterling integrity that inhabits your penetrating gaze.

I see you walking down the streets of Bethany with the nobility and grace of a prince, yet there’s no hint of arrogance in your bearing.

I see you standing on the Galilean mountainside preaching with divine authority. A shout from you and surely all creation would tremble.

Ah, this voice…such resonance and warmth, flowing like honey with words of life and love. Once I thought it would kill me, that day you commanded my inner tormentors be torn from my flesh. But what joy to be free! Oh, that I could always wrap myself inside the sound of your voice, to always be near you.

And now, are those detestable Pharisees going to succeed in silencing perfect goodness and love? How is this possible?

***

Golgatha up ahead, three crosses. I’m coming, my Lord; no one is going to stop me. I will be there for you until the end, no matter what happens. You shall not die alone.

Oh, my Master, my Lord. What have they done to you? You’re hardly recognizable. These Roman brutes!

They took your clothes? You, who bear yourself like a prince, are given no dignity in death?

Nails? In such hands?
Hands that tousled the hair of countless children.
Hands that broke bread and fed thousands.
Hands that touched multitudes, healing, comforting…

Where is justice? Where are you, Jehovah? Do you not hear; do you not care? Do something!

Someone, quick. Don’t you hear my Lord saying that he’s thirsty? Let me help him, soldier. Why are you pushing me back? See, he cannot breathe hanging like that. Take him down from there. I will nurse him back to health. Please, please…

This darkness…what is it? This sinister presence…a black sky…evil…the old familiar oppression…all around but not in me.

It is finished? No, don’t leave me, my Lord, my joy, my life, my hope…

My God, why have you forsaken ME?

***

I couldn’t sleep all night, my Lord. Couldn’t stop crying. So here I am, up early, going to your tomb to bring spices. I must honor you somehow. I must show my undying devotion. Somehow you must know what you meant to me. You must know how I loved you. You must know with what supreme honor I hold you in my heart. This is the last thing I can still do for you…

Why is the tomb open?

What? He’s not here? Where is he? Where have they put him? How can I say goodbye if he’s not here?

“You men in white, why are you asking me why I’m crying? They have taken my Lord away and I don’t know where they put him. Do you know where he is? I must go find him…”

“Oh, sir, please help me. Are you the Gardener? Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you put him and I will get him. Please don’t think I am out of my mind; I’m just overcome by my grief. I will be able to get him. I can get help, please…just tell me where he is…”

Gardener, how do you know my name?

That voice!

“Rabboni! You’re alive!!!”

This…can’t…be…happening…

©2009 Ruth Wood. All rights reserved.