Showing posts with label Luke 8:1-3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke 8:1-3. Show all posts

Friday, September 8, 2023

Small and deep


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.

Sunday, September 3, 2023

The twelve


After Mark 3:13-19, Luke 8:1-3
 

From the multitude,

he called twelve,

the ones called

the disciples or

sometimes simply

the twelve, the ones 

named to speak 

with his authority.

Like the twelve tribes,

they were the ones

through whom

the plan was to be

carried forward,

the twelve planting

seeds, nurturing

new growth, caring 

and training and

discipling and

building. The twelve

would continue on

after he left.

I understand what

they learned from 

him, and I wonder

what they learned

from each other.

 

Photograph by Timon Studler via Unsplash. Used with permission.


Some Sunday Readings

 

Digital Resistance: Three Habits for the Internet Age – Samuel D James at Desiring God. 

 

The Christian Manifesto – Tim Challies.

 

Tolkien, 50 Years On – Sebastian Milbank at The Critic Magazine.

 

Fallen – poem by Mary Gardner at Society of Classical Poets.

 

Deconversion is Apostasy – Jacob Crouch.