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Marilyn Friesen

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Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts

Monday, February 27, 2017

Have You Been to Jericho Lately?



The crowds were immense, but then when weren’t they? In seemed like everywhere that Jesus went the people followed. One man couldn’t though, he was too little. I don’t know if he was a pygmy, exactly, but he was having a hard time getting close to Jesus or even spotting him so what did he do? He hurried ahead of the mob entering into Jericho and scrambled up into a sycamore tree. Possibly, in order to keep his dignity intact, he concealed himself among the leaves. Most of the crowd wouldn’t have paid much attention to him, if they noticed him at all, but not Jesus, He is keenly aware of those that are seeking Him.
Are we? When we as Christians hurry down the streets of life, do we notice those up a tree, possibly in more ways than one, who are observing us, wondering if we can help?
Do we have a warm word of encouragement for them, an invitation to come down because we want to be their friend?
Jesus’ words: “love thy neighbour as thyself” is full of deep meaning.
Luke 19:1-10
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Friday, April 13, 2012

The Jobless Woman Get's a Reprieve

Mary is desperate. No one will welcome her in their home or business, even to do the most menial tasks. How will she keep from starving or being molested if she keeps roaming the streets? 

  I was so happy when Yeshua took me aside
, and asked if I would take a talitha into my home.
 I gladly agreed. Her name is Mary’am the same
 as mine, but to differentiate between the two of us,
 I will call her by her Greek name, Mary.
She is a sweet youthful maid, but has 
suffered much. If all the talithas He finds
 are as sweet as her, I would gladly open
 my home to them. 
       The thin, wispy clouds were being tinted
 a peachy-pink by the setting sun.
As Mary trudged slowly down the lonely
city street, she was hardly aware of how
their glory reflected against the white of the
 buildings. She passed through the
shadow of a large sycamore tree.
 Farther on, a playful breeze
ruffled the leaves in a group of fig trees, and tossed their coolness back to her.
She did not notice. Unfortunately, that was long ago. Her Abba and Imma had
sunk to a watery grave when the ship they were taking
to Phoenicia had capsized in a terrific gale while the moon
shamefacedly hid its face behind a cloud. A thousand times 
Mary had wished she had gone along on that journey. Because
she hadn’t, she was forced to survive on her own resources
which ended up being by the most ancient trade known to
womankind.
            She had often bitterly pondered why no one showed
tzedakah, mercy, compassion, justice, to her? If they didn’t
practice it, their Jewish lineage was supposed to be considered
suspect, but it was as if her own Jewishness was being held in
question instead! Since no one seemed to remember the rule,
many wenches ended up as zonahs just like she had. What else
could a helpless, ignorant woman do?
nightclothes before the crowd parted to let them through.
How humiliating it had been, but it had taken scarcely an
instant to realize that the Pharisee had worse things in mind
for her than just public humiliation! He wanted her stoned!
She would have collapsed into a heap if he had not been so
roughly holding her up by the arm.
            Mary wanted to search the young rabbi’s eyes to see if they
were kind, but did not have a chance. He seemed to be intent
on making markings in the sand with a stick. If I could only
see his eyes! Then I would know if He would be condemning or not.
The Haberim and some others kept hurling accusations about
her, but He did not respond. Curiosity began to nudge away
the fear as she began to question why He was being so calm.
Then He looked up, and although his voice was quiet, it held
so much authority that a thrill ran down her spine.
            “Let him that is without sin cast the first stone!”
       Mary tensed as she waited for the sickening thud of that first stone
 hurtling through the air, and prayed that it would knock
her out instantly. It did not come. It never came. She peeked
at what He was writing on the ground, then looked up at his
face. It was kindly! It was full of tender forgiveness! Out of 
the corner of her eye she saw the men slink away one by one,
until even the haughty Hibernim were gone.
            Now Yeshua’s voice was soft and gentle. “Neither do I
condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”

This is an excerpt from my book about Jesus' life from His mother's (!) viewpoint.point. www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com