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Pre Fire and Wind

6 June, 2003 8:28 AM

Something I've written for Sunday:

As I stood up to speak to those that had gathered, his words still rang in my ears.

He'd said, �Go, make disciples of all nations!�

He'd said, �You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.�

I looked around at those who had gathered — the 'witnesses' — and my heart sank.

There was John, James and Andrew — simple fishermen. Sitting with them was Matthew the Tax Collector and Simon the Zealot. Then there was Philip, Thomas, Bartholomew, James, and Judas (son of James). They were just simple guys, average in so many ways. We had lived with and loved him for three years yet after all that time had deserted him when he most needed us.

His mother Mary and some of his brothers were with us also as well as Mary and Martha and some of the other women. Lazarus sat on the window ledge talking with Nicodemus.

Then there were the other nameless faces scattered throughout the room.

There were those he had healed — who were once blind, lepers and lame. There was the woman who had bled for most of her life. There were even one or two that he'd raised from the dead.

There were widows, beggars, prostitutes, Samaritans, adulterers and tax collectors. There were the old, the children and the poor.

And then, there was me. Simon Peter — the Rock! Yeah Right! More like Simon Peter 'Mr foot in mouth'. I'd disowned him too. I couldn't even admit I knew him to a servant girl. What kind of witness was I!?

We had gathered together because he had told us to wait in Jerusalem — but we were scared and confused. Our leader had gone and we felt alone. We were unsure of who we were and what our place in the world was.

I looked out the window at the world we had been called to go to and I was afraid. The streets were filled with people of all nations yet we were not equipped to communicate with them. Our own nation was living under oppression — these were troubling times — how could we make a difference?

He'd told us we would be his witnesses to the world yet we were so few, so uneducated and so powerless. We had little money, influence and no real social standing. In fact, many of us were on the fringe and some were outright outcasts!
Locked away in that room we were a timid and fragile group of 120. What could we hope to achieve?

We began to pray.



I like it, Darren! As Gooddogbaddog says, be a story teller... Jesus was a story teller, after all... :)

irene » 6 June, 2003 3:52 PM

Good stuff! Thanks Darren.

Richard Hall » 7 June, 2003 4:06 AM

That's good.

Laura » 7 June, 2003 5:08 AM

Praying it goes well...

Paul » 7 June, 2003 8:36 AM

Very good. Thanks.

Mike » 7 June, 2003 3:06 PM

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