After Mark 3:13-19, Luke 8:1-3
No megachurch, no TV
audience, no millions
of followers and likes.
Instead, he chose 12,
12 men from different
walks, different families,
different backgrounds.
And then he poured
himself into them,
a fine wine into
broken bottles,
befriending, discipling,
teaching, training,
praying for, encouraging,
correcting, reproving,
helping them to know
him, and, in the process,
each other. It was
a disparate group,
to be sure, from zealots
to tax collectors to
fishermen. Each was
called, each was
trained, each was
loved.
Photograph by Isaac Sloman via Unsplash, Used with permission.
Some Friday Readings
Lifetimes in Landscapes – Brianna Lambert at Looking to the Harvest.
The Tragedy of Despair – Nathaniel Urban at The Imaginative Conservative.
Homeschooling and Red Herrings – Nadya Williams at Front Porch Republic.
They were never ignoring me – James Hunt at Stories About Autism.
Poet Laura: For the Birds – A Poetry Reading…for Chickens – Dheepa Maturi at Tweetspeak Poetry.
1 comment:
Masterful poem, Glynn!
Blessings!
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