From Scarves and Scars, to Wishes and Stars
By: Steve Schrock
It’s not safe to run around in the streets, at least that is what my mother tells me. She does relent as she knows I’m just a kid and like to get out and explore, but she does insist I be home before dark. The sun will be setting here soon. The streets are crowded with people as they make their way to the market and to home before the darkness sets in. I find a stool next to a merchant selling scarves and sit down. I’ve seen him before and he nods that I can sit down.
I watch as the people are passing by. I remember the stories my father told me about how we used to be slaves in this place. And even though that was long ago, some people still don’t like us being here. After all, who leaves their own country to find shelter in a place that once held them in bondage. I may be just a kid, but even I see the irony of that.
Most of the people are friendly. Some smile as they walk by and others give me a long stare. The merchant sees this and tells me not to worry. Most of the people are just trying to get home anyway and are not paying attention to anyone around them. I jump in startelement as I hear a man yelling, then I see him coming down the road on a horse. I think he is chasing someone. The people are trying to get out of the way but the streets are just too crowded.
Then I see a woman and a little girl, younger than me, stop in front of the stand. She looks at the merchant and I can tell she is scared. Then she quickly looks around as if looking for a place to hide, but it is too late. The soldier is already upon her and the child. In fear, as the girl falls down, a half-eaten apple falls out of her hand into the dirt. The merchant jumps from behind his table and grabs the girl’s hand. And as the soldier draws his sword, the horse then jumps, Its front legs striking the woman and she falls to the ground.
The soldier then gets off his horse and stands over the woman who is laying there with blood coming out of her head. He then raises his sword up as if to strike a blow of death upon her. He then turns and looks at the merchant holding the girl as she is screaming and crying and reaching out for her mother. The merchant then begs the soldier to just leave. The soldier then looks at me “And why are you here? Go home!”. In my shock and tears, I have no response. Then He smiles and puts his sword away. Then overturns the merchant’s table as we all jump out of the way. He then mounts his horse and rides off in a hurry, nearly trampling an old man who was watching nearby.
The girl then races to her mother crying and leans down in the dusty street. Her mother is lying there unconscious, her face and head covered in blood and dirt. The girl tries to wake her mother, but to no avail. The old man from across the street then approaches and asks the girl “Will you let me help?” “I used to be a doctor,” He says. The girl nods in approval. The old man leans down to try to help the woman. The girl stands back out of the way. The merchant then begins picking up all the scarves that had been turned over and are scattered everywhere. He hands some of them to the doctor as he attends to the woman. I walk up standing next to the girl as she looks on with despair.
“You are bleeding,” I say to her. She looks at her hands that are all scraped and bleeding but says nothing. Her knees are cut and bleeding as well. The merchant finally gets the table back in place and lights a candle as the sunlight is beginning to fade. The doctor turns to the girl and says “I’m sorry child. There is nothing more I can do. She has lost too much blood. It won’t be long now.”
The girl then walks over and kneels down looking at her mother. Lost in a daze, she picks up one of the scarves laying next to her mother and begins to wipe the rest of the blood off her mother’s face. I turn to help the merchant pick up the rest of the scarves and she talks to her mother. The merchant just shakes his head in disbelief “What a terrible thing to happen to a little girl and mother”.
The girl, still sobbing as the merchant walks over to her, “I am sorry about your mother. Where is your father?” “He died last year because he was sick,” she says. Another tear falls as her mother takes one final breath. They both just pause for a moment as the realization of what just happened starts to set. He then takes her by the hand and leads her to the stool I was sitting on and begins to clean up her hands and knees. She is still clinging tightly to the scarf she picked up that was lying next to her mother. Worried it will get lost, she puts it in her pocket.
I walk over to where her mother lay. Aside from her blood-stained face and gash in her head, she looks almost peaceful. I shiver at the thought though as I suddenly feel the chill in the air from the wind. I lean down next to her with tears running down my face and whisper in her ear “wake up”. I then get up and turn to see the girl talking to the merchant as she wipes a tear away. I then turn and start to walk away, as I am already running late and should have been home by now.
The girl apparently sees me walking away and catches up to me. I stop and turn around. “Thank you for trying to help me and my mother,” she says. “You are welcome” I smile. The girl reaches into her pocket and pulls out the scarf and places it in my hand. It was purple but you wouldn’t know it now, as it is blood-stained and torn. “Don’t forget me,” she says. “I won’t” I reply, “I am sad this happened to you.” With tears in her eyes, she watches as I walk away.
Still standing in the street, she wonders what will become of her now and who will take care of her. Suddenly the merchant yells out “come, girl, your mother just moved!” Startled, she turns around and runs back to where her mother is.
—
I hurry quickly home only to find my mother upset that I am late. “Your father has been worried sick, as have I. Where have you been?” Before I can answer her, my father yells out “You and Jesus come and sit down. We have much to discuss and much work to do before morning.”
Joseph comes out of the bedroom as me and my mother sit down on the floor. He begins pacing back and forth and looks over at me with worry and disappointment. “And why exactly were you late?” He asks. “Well Father, I was sitting near this merchant’s table and then…” “Nevermind that”, He interrupts, “There was another serious incident again today which could have endangered your mother or even you. Luckily an angel of the Lord visited me in a dream last night and told me that King Herod has died and that we can now return to Israel. Tensions have been growing here over the last year, especially against our people. And with what happened today, it seems best that we should return home. It is a shame someone’s life can be in jeopardy over a misunderstanding. But for now, we need to pack. We leave out in the morning”.
I get up and head to my room. It is just big enough for a mat on the floor and a small table that my father made for me. My mother comes in to help me. “You won’t be able to take everything, so just pack up some clothes and a few things.” She then hands me some clean clothes. “Now change into this and I will wash what you have on. You look filthy, what did you get into today?” She looks me over, shaking her head, and walks out of the room. She comes back with a pitcher of water and a basin. “Now wash up good. It might be a few days before you can take another bath. I will be back to get your clothes.
I get undressed and begin to wash up. The mud in my hair falls out as I shake my head around. My mother comes back and picks up my clothes which were on the floor. She is about to say something but then leaves the room as my brother starts crying. I guess He woke up from his nap. “Just as well,” I say to myself, thinking she won’t make a big deal about me being late now. Maybe James will keep her occupied. I finish washing up and get dressed. Just then She walks in and is apparently upset. “Where did you get this bloody scarf from? Did you get hurt?”, she asks as it drops to the floor. “No mother,” I said, “Someone gave it to me.” She looks puzzled. “Who gives a bloody scarf to a child? I am glad we are leaving”. And with that, she walks out of the room before I can say anything else.
A short while later, She calls to me from the other room “Now listen to your father and pack up your things and then come and sit with your brother”. I pick the scarf up off the floor. My mother had washed it out, but it was still stained with blood. I pack it away with my clothes and a couple of toys and hurry out to help my mother.
James had stopped crying and was laying on a blanket on the floor. I sit down beside him and watch him. Mother was heating up some soup for dinner. After a little while, my father comes in from outside as it is finally time to eat. My mother hands me a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. “Eat up now so you can help your father.” She picks up James and holds him in her lap while feeding him. She looks over at Joseph. “I was going to get some more vegetables for the soup but I didn’t make it that far. I stopped and got some fruit when a woman and child approached. She asked the merchant for a piece of fruit and He wouldn’t give it to her as she didn’t have any money. She was pleading with him. I reached over and handed her an apple I had just bought from him. She looked over at me crying as she took it from my hand and handed it to her girl. Such a little thing too, younger than Jesus. Well, this upset the merchant and he began to yell out that she had stolen the fruit, calling her a thief. Then they took off running, the little girl trying to keep up. I was about to give that merchant a piece of my mind when a soldier on a horse came charging by, almost running into me. I wish you could have been there Joseph. It was scary. But I just hope that woman and girl are alright. I would hate it if something happened to them just because that merchant lied.”
Joseph replied “Yes, that is sad and I hope they are ok. I heard about the incident when I was at the workshop talking to the men and telling them we were planning to leave. They said that they understood and were also considering heading back to our home. That frightens me. I had no idea that you were even there. You could have been hurt! This is all the more reason why we must leave. And I would hate it if something happened to the children.”
I sat there motionless, that is, until Joseph called to me to finish eating so I could help him. I got up and sat my bowl on the table then headed over to where my father was putting our belongings in a pile so we could pack them up in the morning. One of the neighbors gave him a cart that we can pull with the horse. Mary got up from the table, cleaned up the bowls, and then picked up James and put him to bed. “Finish helping your father. It will be bedtime soon,” she says to me.
—
It’s time to get up. We must be leaving soon.”, I awake to hear my mother say. I sit up and look out my window. I can see that dawn is about to break as the sky is just starting to receive the light of morning. I get up and head outside. My Father is already outside loading the cart. It appears as if most of it is already done. “Morning Father,” I say to him as I walk by but only hear a muffled reply. I wonder if he even slept.
Running back into the house I almost trip on my brother who is sitting just inside the doorway. “Jesus, be careful!” my mother exclaims. “Now come and eat something. We will be leaving soon.” I sit down at the table and begin to eat. I sit down in my father’s chair, which he made. I look down and see my legs and feet dangling far above the floor. I feel taller when I sit in this chair. I can see out the window where my father is attaching the cart to the horse. It is just light enough to see as I hear the horse neigh in protest at such an early task.
My mind begins to wonder as I realize this will be my last day in this place. I don’t remember our home that father speaks so dearly of. He says that the land was given to us as a place where we are free to worship our God. They don’t allow that here unless you go to the temple to worship Ra. But the name Elohim is not allowed. Even at my early age, Father and Mother have taught me the lessons and the stories of our people.
The stories are captivating and exciting. Some of them are sad though, But father says it is in the hard times that our faith is tested. Sometimes it is scary, like the King that threw the men in the fire. I’m not sure how they survived that. I guess it was a miracle.
“Finish your food so we can go ”, my mother says, redirecting my attention. Then all of a sudden I burst out laughing. “What is so funny?” she asked. “The horse is dragging Father in a circle,” I laugh. Mary hurries to the window and looks outside, placing her hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh of her own. “Watch your brother….” she hurries out the door to help Joseph. “What a silly horse,” I say to James who coos in agreement.
—
With everything finally loaded we head out. The air is still cool and a light breeze is blowing but the afternoon sun is sure to bring some warmth. Father is walking beside the horse leading it across a field. Mother is riding on the edge of the cart holding James who is already fast asleep. The world looks so big as I peer out across the expanse from my perched position of sitting on the horse. From this high up, I can see crops and grass as far as the eye can see. I wonder how long our trip will take. I am already anxious to get there. Mother says I will get to meet my cousin John and the rest of the family. I can tell she is excited and hopeful in her longing for home. I think father is excited too but he also seems worried. At least he got the horse to behave so we could begin our trip.
The horse shakes its head in protest after stepping over some uneven rocks in the field. Father almost falls down. “Joseph, be careful”, mother exclaims. Joseph looks up at me and winks “I think I have already had enough falls for one day.” This time I can not suppress my laugh and just let it out, followed by my parents’ laughter.
—
It will be getting dark soon as we stop for the night. Mother starts a fire while Father is tending to the horse. After dinner, I sit around the fire with Mother and James. Father is already asleep as we can all hear him snoring. James is sitting on his mother’s lap shaking a toy that Father made. I think he is trying to eat it as well, but we already ate. I think he is just being silly. She drapes a blanket over my shoulders as the night air is cool once again. I reach over and take the toy from James and laugh. Suddenly He starts crying and mother snatches it out of my hands and gives it back. Then shakes her head at me in disapproval. Then smiles, running her fingers through my hair.
“Look up at the stars,” she says to me. “It was the stars that led the Magi to us when you were one year old. And the stars helped to guide Abraham to the place where Elohim called. Remember their importance. They helped guide Jacob back home to his father and they helped Moses as He led our people out from the bonds of slavery. We too are following the same stars that He did those many years ago as we make our way back home. Whenever you see a star, make a wish to our creator that He will always guide us. He is all around us if we take the time to look and have faith in His plan.”
“Now off to bed with you. It is time to get to sleep.” I lay down next to her as we lay down next to the fire. Soon she and James drift off to sleep. I lay there looking up at the stars. The night is clear and it seems like I can see forever into the sky. I wonder where Heaven is at, up there in the great expanse of space. They might not understand, but at times, I feel as if Heaven itself is within me, as if we are all drawn to our creator. There has to be a way that we can all reach out to God, Just then a shooting star raced across the sky. I smile to myself knowing I may have just received an answer. Finally, sleep sets in as thoughts of a long journey ahead also fill my mind.
—
It has been a long journey for sure and we are almost there. I can see the town in the distance. I guess our plans got changed. Father says he was worried about going back to Judea as he is unsure how the new king will be. He decided that we would come here, to Nazareth, in Galilee. Father says this rural area is a better place for boys to grow… away from the dangers and sins of a big city. I have no idea what that means, but that is what he said.
My legs are getting tired from walking and it was James’ turn on the horse with mother. Father must be more tired than me though. He did not ride the horse one time since we left. He keeps letting us take turns. I think maybe he is scared the horse will drag him in circles again.
We reach a river just outside of the town. Mother is excited to get us some more water. Father takes James as our mother gets off the horse and then he leads the horse over to drink. He says that we can take a short rest. Mary takes James over to the river bank and sits down. I run past them jumping into the water and splashing them. Joseph calls out to me and looks at me sternly as I stand there in the water. “You just got your mother and brother all wet. And you could have been hurt just jumping into a river like that. You don’t know how deep the river is and you can’t even swim yet. Unless you can walk on the water I suggest you be more careful and apologize to your mother. “I’m sorry for getting you and James all wet.” “It’s alright son, just please listen to your father and be more careful.”
We finally made it to the town and to some friends who said we could stay with them until we got our own place. It’s been a long journey. I watch as Father sits down in a chair. He looks exhausted, probably because he walked the whole way. Mother gets James settled down and he is laying on a blanket with his toy.
We stay there the next few months while Father is building us a little house. Between building the house and trying to get his carpenter business going, we don’t see him much. But mother assures us that He loves us dearly and is working hard for us; And that in time, things will settle down.
—
Five years later…
—
James is running around getting into everything. It’s nice to have a brother to play with now, even if we do get in trouble a lot. They told us that we will be having a brother or sister once the time comes. They said that God would provide as He always has. Our house is small but nice. Luckily, father was able to find a place not too far from the well so that mother doesn’t have to travel far to get our water.
“Come play with me,” James says, as I run outside to catch up with him. Father is working but will be home soon. We run into a field that is ripe for harvest. “Maybe one day we will be workers in the field,” I say to James. He ignores me and knocks down the wheat chaff laughing. I run after him and he runs and hides in the field. I finally found him after a long search. “You scared me! Don’t run off like that! We will both be in trouble!” I take his hand and we walk back to the house.
Mother is making us something to eat and says that father will be home soon. “You boys are filthy!” she laughs. “What did you get into?” “We were playing in the field,” I replied.. “Well let’s get you cleaned up before your father gets home,” she replies.
At dinner Mary tells Joseph that she started getting “morning sickness”. I laugh out loud “I’m sick of mornings too Mother! Can I sleep in tomorrow?” Joseph laughs at my remark. I don’t think he realizes how much I want to sleep in. “When I become a grown-up, I will not have to get up and work so early in the morning”, I say to myself.
—
One year later…
—
I sat there at that table helping mother prepare the vegetables she got at the market. “Jesus, go check on your sister please. And try to be quiet”. I get up and walk into the other room. My sister is laying there asleep on a blanket. Her toy is laying beside her. It’s the same toy that James and I played with that Father made. He has made several for us over the years, but this one was always our favorite.
I ran back out of the room to help Mother. “Where is James at?” Mary asked. “I don’t see him out front anymore.” “I don’t know mother. I will go and find him” I say as I run out the door, thankful to get out of having to help with the vegetables.
I search around but to no avail. I checked all the places we normally go to, which isn’t that far from the house. Mother doesn’t let us go too far. We do sometimes go in the field out back so I should check there. I run out to the field which is once again ripe and full as it is almost harvest time. The air is getting cool as a light breeze whips across my face. I run up and down the rows, which can be clearly seen, but again to no avail. It is a large field and we usually don’t go very far in. I ran back to the house and told my mother.
She leaves me in charge of my sister while she runs to go and tell father what is going on. I can hear her calling out to James as she stops to ask some neighbors if they have seen him. Our sister is still sleeping but will probably wake up soon. I walk over and close the door just in case.
A short while later, my parents arrived back at the house. Still, no sign of James, and the sun is beginning to set. “Some of the town’s people are coming over to help us look for your brother,” He says to me. “Can I come with you?” I ask. “Sure, but you stay next to me and do not run off.” “Yes, Father,” I replied. I can see the worry in His eyes as we head outside as a few men have already arrived.
We set out to look for James. I can hear the men calling his name from the next street over. Some of the men agreed to search the town and to stop and ask the townspeople. The rest of us are heading to check the field just south of where our house is. Two of the men run back to get some torches as the rest of us head into the field.
This seems a daunting task. The field goes on forever it appears; Nothing but wheat as far as I can see. I do not know how we will be able to search all of this field. There is no way it could all be searched tonight, it is just too big, even for a group of men. Father goes on ahead of me as I try to keep up. Suddenly I hear a rustling sound behind me and call out “James, Is that you?” I turned to look, only to see that the two men had returned with the torches. “I was hoping you were James,” I said to the man. “It’s ok, we will help you find him,” He replied.
I run to catch up to my father who is now out of eyesight as it is getting dark. I run right into him and he grunts with the impact. “Sorry Father,” I say. “I thought you were far off. I couldn’t see you” He then takes my hand and says “Even when you can’t see me or feel my presence, I am always close to you, just a wish away.” I let out a sigh of relief as we continued walking.
It’s now been several hours and we still haven’t found James. The darkness has fully set in now, the only light coming from the torches and the faint light from the distant moon. I look up at the sky and remember mother’s words to me about finding my way by the stars. So I search the sky on this clear cold night and pick one at random and make my wish. “Please help us find James. He is lost.”
A couple of men approach us and Joseph asks them if they have found anything. They said the only thing they could find was a pile of torn wheat stalks, as if someone had done it on purpose. Father sighed. “It’s James!” I said loudly. “He is always knocking the wheat stalks down. He thinks it is funny,” I say with enthusiasm. “I have told that boy a hundred times not to be tearing up the wheat,” Joseph shakes his head in frustration. He then follows the men to where they found the torn stalks. All the men begin to call out, hoping to hear a reply from James.
They continue searching the area, but still nothing. Finally one of the men calls out to Joseph and He heads in that direction. By the time I catch up to him they are looking at a circle of missing wheat stalks. It looks as if someone walked in a circle tearing them all down. “Father, this has to be James,” I say. “Let’s look around the area,” Joseph says to everyone. The men begin to look around. Father lets me finally hold one of the torches as long as I stay in the middle where there is no wheat as he doesn’t want to risk a fire as well. I stand there proudly holding up this torch of light, hoping that James can see it.
After a few minutes, one of the men shouts “Joseph! Come quickly! I think I found something!” I stay in the middle of the circle as Father runs off to where the man was. He gets there and sees the man down on his knees removing some brush. There is something here” he says. Joseph gets down as does another man and they begin to remove the wheat and brush from around them. Joseph stands and grabs one of the torches and looks around. “There is wood under this brush,” the other man says.
Finally, they clear more of the wheat and brush away, exposing the wood which is broken and splintered. Another man comes over and they all pick up the large slab of wood and carry it off to the side. Other men arrive with more torches and they all stand there looking at a large hole in the ground. Father gets down on the ground and puts his ear to the hole “Quiet men!” he says, as he listens carefully for any sounds.
After what seems like a long pause of silence, Joseph yells out “James, are you down there?” At that moment, the faintest cry can be heard coming from under the ground. Father quickly stands, “He is down there! James is down there!” He tells two men to go back to town and get some rope. The men take off running back towards the town, which from where we are now is at least a five-minute run.
Father yells back down the hole, “James, It’s Father, I am here. Don’t be scared. I am coming to get you.” Joseph paces frantically as he kicks more of the brush away. He reaches his hand down the hole and feels nothing but air. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the two men arrived with the rope. Now, with the remaining brush, wood, and wheat stalks all cleared away, the men stand around in a circle holding the torches so they can see better. “Can you men lower me down that hole?” Joseph asked them. “Yes”, they replied, “we will try.” One of the men had come and gotten the torch from me and I followed him to where the other men were and stood beside him, watching as they tied the rope around father.
They began to lower Joseph down the hole. It was a tight fit but he made it as he held a torch in his hand above him. He felt around him as they were lowering him. “Slowly men. I can feel rocks around me. I believe this was an old well. This might go down pretty deep.” “James!” Father calls out, but hears nothing.
After a few minutes, I hear my father call out again “James, It’s Father! I know you are scared but it is going to be ok. I know it is dark but listen to the sound of my voice. You can hear me coming to you.” Finally, he hears a faint cry. “Abba, I’m still scared. I can feel snakes in here, in this dark place. Where am I?” “You fell down a well. I know it is dark and scary and there may be snakes all around you, so I need you to listen to my voice. Focus on me. The darkness can not harm you and you will soon be out of this pit.”
The men take turns switching off on holding the rope, with three holding on at a time. What was probably another five minutes, seemed like an hour to me. As he is nearing the bottom, Joseph can finally see James laying there wedged between some rocks. “James, can you get up?” “No Abba, I’m hurting and scared. Please don’t be mad at me.” He cries. “It’s ok my son. Hold on, I love you. I am coming to you.” Joseph was unsure how stable the rocks at the bottom were, and did not want to risk further harm to James. He then tried to flip himself upside down so he could use his hands to reach him. As he flips upside down he yells out in pain. “Father are you ok?” I yell from the top. “I will be fine as long as I save your brother,” he replies.
A few minutes later, Joseph calls out again “James, look up at me, I am here. Reach up and take my hand.” “You are hanging there bleeding from your hand!” James says as he reaches up. “It will be ok James, I gashed it open on a rock when I was flipping over,” he replied. Finally at last Joseph has his son’s hand and slowly pulls him up. “Ouch, my leg hurts”, James says as he falls back down to the rocks. “James, I need you to trust me, even in the darkness.” Joseph smashes the torch on the side of the well, beating it until it goes out. James cried out “Abba, you made it darker! Now I can’t see you! Abba?… Abba? Did you leave me here alone?” he cries out as tears of utter despair roll down his cheek. “Abba!” He screams.
He lay there for a moment wondering what happened. Had his father really left him in total darkness? He couldn’t hear him as he cried out in fear, nor see him in this utter darkness. He lay there weeping for what seemed like forever to him. Finally, He felt himself being lifted up in his father’s arms. He reached up and held him tight. “Abba, I thought you left me, he cried. “I thought you were mad at me. If I wouldn’t have been smashing the wheat I wouldn’t have fallen in this hole.”
“Relax James, I have you now. Just hold on and we will reach the light soon. I needed both hands to carry you. That is why I snuffed out the light. I wasn’t leaving you and I am not mad at you. I already forgave you before you even saw me.” said Father.
Joseph yelled up to the men to help pull the rope as he tried to help use his feet to assist by pushing on the walls of the well. Some of the rocks on the side came loose as he did this and they fell to the bottom with a loud crash.
Finally making it to the surface, the men helped pull them out of the well. The men begin to clap in applause that James was saved. I stood there clapping too as I watched father pick up James once again and hold him. “Joseph, take your son’s and go home. We will finish up here and make sure this well is sealed properly”, then men say.
Joseph, James, and I start the long walk back home. Father is carrying James in one arm and places his other arm around me. I was carrying a torch and as I looked, I could see blood on my shirt. I looked and saw that my father’s hand was bleeding. “Father, your hand is bleeding bad,” I say to him. I take his hand and look at it in the light. It is gashed open really bad. “Yes, It hurts really bad, but I am just happy my children are safe and we are on our way back home,” he says. “But won’t it leave a scar?” asks James. “Oh yes, and probably a nasty looking one” “Maybe one day, I’ll have a nasty scar on my hand too Father,” I say. “Well if one day, it’s to save your children, then nothing is too much of a sacrifice,” Joseph replies.
After a long walk, we finally made it home. Mother is worried sick about us but is happy that we all made it. She tends to James and cleans him up and bandages his leg. Then she gets James and me to bed and then tends to our father’s wounds. James falls fast asleep, no doubt tired from the long scary adventure. I lay there looking out the little window. The light will be breaking in a few hours but I can still see some stars in the distant sky. I have the feeling that everything will be alright as I finally drift off to sleep.
—
The next day father lets us all have a much-needed day of rest. Father needs his hand to heal so he can continue to make things at the shop. Mother says we can help her around the house today and we actually didn’t complain this time. I think we are all just glad to all be at home and safe.
After helping mother, she says she is tired and needs to sit down. She walks over to the table and sits down next to Joseph. We follow her and sit down as well. Father is holding our sister as she sits there looking around. “Why don’t you tell the children a story?” Mary asked. We both jump up and down. “Alright. Sit down boys,” our father says. We sit back down as He begins to tell us stories. I was always so fascinated by the stories he would tell. He taught us about “heroes of the faith” as he called them. Stories of adventure and defeat, of conquest and miracles, ones of faith and doubt. These were real stories. The stories of people that lived long ago. He always made them seem to come alive. It feels at times as if I was actually there seeing it all unfold.
I should take some time and write down some of the stories from our family as well. Maybe someday, someone will tell our story too…
—
Many Years later…
—
Well, It’s been many years now since Jesus ascended into heaven. I was going to write about his death and all that surrounded it. Talk about an incredible story. John said he, as well as others, were already writing things down so that there would be a record of the things that happened. Just unimaginable things, miraculous things that can scarcely be put to words. Our mother has now passed away a short while ago. My sister came with me, James, to go through some of these things in the house.
She lifted the lid on Mary’s chest, a hope chest of sorts. She said she wanted us all to just keep what we wanted. Our other siblings are coming over tomorrow. For right now we are just looking through things and seeing what is here. It’s hard to believe she is gone.
“What’s in that chest,?” I ask her, pointing to the corner of the room. “I don’t know,” she says with a puzzled look. I walk over to it, brush it off, and open the lid. “It’s a bunch of papers,” I tell her. I pull one out and open it up and begin to read…. “Joseph told us stories today. We always like it when he does that. We are all just grateful that things weren’t worse last night when James went missing. I just hope that Father’s hand heals soon…” “This one is from Jesus and about me, I exclaim! I set it down and grab another one… “And here is one about you written by Father!” I open another one “Here is one from Mother about Jesus” I keep digging…
Just then, my sister comes up to me “What is this?” she says, holding an old tattered scarf. “Who keeps an old tattered scarf? I don’t know if that is blood on there but the fabric looks almost Egyptian or something. Do you know what this is about?” she asks. “I have no idea,” I reply. “Who knows why she kept such things. This room is full of mystery,” she says as she shakes her head and laughs.
I come across a pile of papers bundled together. I pick them up and open them. “Sis, come look at this!” I exclaim. “Story after story that father used to tell us about the history of our people.” I keep looking… “And not just the ones he told, Jesus also wrote down things that Father would tell him. Stories about us and things that happened and how it was reflective of deeper truth. Things that he learned from father and how it shaped him and His later teaching… Talk about a treasure!” I said to her.
Story after story, too many to count. I had no idea that Jesus took the time to write these things down. I sit there with these papers in my hand thinking about how the teachings of Jesus were reflective of the stories that our Father used to tell us. I don’t know why I never made that connection before. I guess it was because I thought that His teaching came from God, which it absolutely did. But I never stopped to consider How much of an influence Joseph was in raising Jesus. The impact that Joseph had and how it helped shape him into the man and great teacher he would become. If there was ever a hero of the faith, Joseph should be counted among them. We spend the next hour just looking over things.
The sun is now starting to set, so we packed away the things and locked the door. The air is getting cool as a gentle breeze is blowing. As we walk down the road, I smile to myself. “He did it. Jesus did it. He got a scar on his hand too!” I exclaim. She smiles “I miss them, but I know we will see them again soon.”
She looks at me and says “We have so many more stories to tell, that people haven’t heard yet. And there are so many more people that don’t know the ones already told. I hope that people will reconsider the stories that they used to think of as fables.” I hope so too,” I reply, “There is so much work to do and so little time. The gospel must be told.”
We turn a corner when suddenly she stops. I walked ahead a couple of steps and then stopped and turned around. “What is it?” I said. “Can we go a different way?” she says. “It’s already getting dark and that alley is even darker. Who knows what will be down there?” she exclaims! I walk back to her and smile. “I learned a long time ago, that we don’t have to fear the darkness, no matter how deep the darkness goes. As long as we can hear our Father’s voice or feel His presence, we know we are safe. And Jesus said that even when we can’t, He is always just a wish away.” And with that, we head down the road, deeper into the darkness…
Happy Easter 2021
“I have come as a Light into the world, so that everyone who believes in Me will not remain in darkness”1 – Jesus
Dedication: To my Dad, A true “Hero of the Faith”
Notes
Matthew 2
1John 12:46 (NASB)
From Tree To Rugged Tree
Dedicated to my Mom:
Thank you for teaching me the lessons found within the pages of scripture, for showing me the insurmountable love of Christ, and for both of these things helping me to grasp the power of a story.
Merry Christmas.
December 25, 2020
From Tree To Rugged Tree
By: Steve Schrock
Mary’s Diary
4BC
I’m just trying to write it all down so that I remember. Jesus is sleeping peacefully, as is Joseph. I should be asleep but for some reason I’m wide awake. So I figured I would write some things down while I have a chance and everything is so fresh in my mind. Maybe someone will read this someday.
The day so long awaited is finally here. The hope of the Messiah is finally revealed. It’s been a difficult and trying time. Just nine months ago an angel appeared and told me that I would conceive and give birth to the Messiah. The one foretold, that would be king and bring about the salvation of my people. Who was I to find favor with the Most High? Except that His purpose be fulfilled, for I am but a servant.
It has brought much turmoil, that is for sure. That was so scary having to tell my parents that I was pregnant. Seeing the looks of disappointment on their faces and watching as my father hung His head in shame and anger. This would put a heavy strain on Him I know, as He would now be looked down upon by the community. And my Mother wouldn’t stop crying. She was worried about how we will eat, as many fellow Jews would not sell to her in the market now, or take anything in trade.
And how was I ever going to explain this to Joseph, my fiance’. His business as a carpenter would be ruined if He stayed with me. So He did the only thing he could do, which was to work out a quiet annulment with my father. I remember sitting in my room crying as I could hear them outside arguing.
Sometimes I wished this wouldn’t have happened to me. But as my mother told me, we can not change what has happened. We just have to make the best of it and look forward to brighter days ahead. I’m just too young for all of this. I just recently reached the age of betrothal. Yes, that is a fine age to be engaged, but not to have a baby yet. At least not until after the wedding, which wasn’t supposed to be for at least another year from now.
Luckily, an Angel visited Joseph and asked Him to still marry me and He agreed. He came back later and talked with my father and they worked things out. So we were to be married in secret, or relative secrecy. But at least that was a really great day.
I couldn’t go live with Joseph because of the stigma and turmoil that it would have caused for everyone. In fact, things had gotten so bad that I went and stayed with some other family for a while. Elizabeth was about to have a baby of her own, and her husband, a priest, was met with further scorn apart from his own by my arrival. But yet, they still said that I could come. At least this eased some tension back home for a while and I could help Elizabeth as she was getting further along. I still missed my family back home though, especially Joseph. I just hoped that we could settle down soon and be a family. I often wonder where we will live.
It was then time for Elizabeth to have her baby. She let me stay in the room to help the midwife. I hadn’t watched a birth before so I didn’t know what to expect. I was really nervous, as thoughts of what I would soon experience for myself come to mind. Well, I have to say it… that was gross. I wasn’t expecting all the blood and fluids. A nauseous feeling hit me at the thought, as if I hadn’t already had enough morning sickness by that point.
Everyone was talking and scurrying about. And then there is Zacharias, just out there in the other room not saying a word. I tease Him about that every chance I get. And now that He is speaking to me again, He calls me a silly girl.
The next day I sat there holding John. He is so tiny. Jesus starts to kick inside me as John moves some in my arms. I think that maybe they are talking to each other somehow. You might think it sounds silly, but I think they are already friends.
I finally made it back to Nazareth as Joseph agreed to come and get me. It was so good to see him. I’ve missed him. It won’t be too much longer before our son is born. I was just hoping my mother helps me, because I don’t think Joseph could handle it. This is probably why they make the men wait in the other room.
My mother was planning to help me with the birth until the stupid census they decided to do. I don’t like living under this Roman occupation. I wish they would just leave. So now I had to go with Joseph all the way to Bethlehem just to register, because we are married. I was dreading this trip. I was hoping it wouldn’t take too long so we could get back before the baby comes.
We finally got to Bethlehem and to His family where we planned to stay. But a big argument ensued. They were worried about how it will look if they let us stay with them. Joseph tells them we are married but they are not moved by this, as they know the story. So they tell us to leave as they can not risk further shame brought to their family if we were to stay with them.
Joseph assures me that he has other family and some old friends here. Hopefully we could stay with one of them for a few days. We got to his friends, but they don’t have any room for us to stay; The same with his other family on the other side of town. What is it with family turning us away just because I am pregnant? I didn’t ask for this. Maybe someday they will make lodging places where guests can stay and not have to worry about being turned away.
Joseph, now worried as to what we will do, began to knock on strangers’ doors, but one after another turned us away. It is getting cold out and I am exhausted. I can feel my back spasm as the first contraction hits. This is a new level of pain I was not expecting as I doubled over in pain. Finally after Joseph begs a man at the last house on the street to help us, He agrees. He said we couldn’t stay with them, but that he had an old stable out back where the animals were, and that we could go there.
He gave us some wood to build a fire and His wife gave us something to eat. I was already nauseous again from these contractions that were continuing, and didn’t feel like eating. Joseph eats quickly and then starts a fire and begins cleaning up the stable some. Like me, He is exhausted. I am worried about Him as I sit down to rest. But my worry of Him quickly fades as another contraction hits, and this time hard. I pat my stomach as I try to comfort the baby the only way I know how. “Go to sleep” I whisper to him, but this has no effect as He isn’t listening. His kicking is getting stronger and the contractions are getting more frequent.
Joseph notices my worried look and comes and sits beside me. I hope he knows what he is doing because this might be a long night. Why can’t we be back at home? Thankfully, the man’s wife just happens to come out to check on us. Joseph gets up as she kneels down in front of me. She brought us some water and cloth and towels. Just some strips of cloth really, some rags, but I am thankful she did.
Another big contraction hits. I can tell as I am suddenly soaked, that this was going to be the night. The woman says for me to lay down and that she will help me. “I’ve done this many times before,” she says. A wave of relief washes over me as I finally think that things might be alright. I know that Joseph is relieved for the help and that He is worried about me and the baby.
As I lay there and wait for the baby to come, Joseph is busy pacing back and forth. He keeps glancing over at me and asking if I am alright. There isn’t much else He can do right now anyways. I think he stoked that fire about a thousand times already. I laugh painfully as He does it again, walking around with a big stick in his hand. He always seems to have a piece of wood in his hands. I wonder if Jesus will want to be a carpenter as well…. boys and their sticks, I smile to myself.
Joseph looks like he is going to be sick as he tells me he can see the baby starting to come. I cry out as the contractions are almost one right after another. “You are doing fine” the woman says to me, “It is time to push”. So when the next contraction hits, I start to push.
Finally, He is coming out. The woman takes him and places him in my arms. He is crying and covered in blood and fluids. Joseph pulls a wooden trough over. That thing looks terrible, with jagged pieces of wood at the bottom as if it’s just a piece of a rugged tree. So He takes some strips of cloth and places them on the bottom. The woman then finishes cleaning me up.
Then I then got up on my knees and laid Jesus in the wooden manger. As He lay there shivering and crying, still covered in blood and fluids, I took the cloth and water and started to clean him up. Then I begin to wrap Him tightly in the strips of cloth until he is all bundled up. I smile at him and gently touch his cheek as I wipe away His tears. “Sleep now my son, things will be better soon.” I kiss Him on the cheek and He finally stops crying and gently drifts off to sleep.
Mary’s Diary
29AD
I’m sitting in a room with some of the disciples. We are in hiding, lest they find us and kill us too. And we are all still hurt as we remember what they did to John just for preaching in the wilderness. But I need to write something down while all this is so fresh, and raw, and buzzing in my head. I can’t stop crying.
I just watched them kill my son! And there was nothing I could do about it. My heart is broken. No one should have to witness their son being tortured and mocked like that. And of all the ways to die, this Roman crucifixion is just savage, and will probably go down in history as one of the worst forms of killing. I can’t think of anything else so cruel.
They brought Jesus out to the Roman Governor Pilate. But instead of freeing Him as I had hoped, another man was released, and Jesus was sentenced to be executed. They took him out to have Him flogged. That was like no flogging I had ever seen before. They had attached balls of clay, rocks, mud, and hooks to the straps of the whip. It didn’t just leave the mark of a whip’s lash, it literally stuck to him and ripped the flesh from his body as it was pulled away. I thought for sure they were killing him right then as He was screaming. Unfortunately they stopped just short of killing him, because what came next was even worse.
They took these long beams of wood carved from trees, and they would hang people on them until they were dead. They called it a cross. They took one of those crosses, which were big and heavy, and they made Jesus carry it all the way outside the city. He was already half dead at this point and didn’t have the strength to make it.
There were people everywhere lining the streets and watching as Jesus was carrying His cross down the road leading out of the City. One of the Roman soldiers made a man from the crowd named Simon help Jesus. So Simon helped pick up the cross after Jesus had fallen again and He carried that cross the rest of the way outside the city, and up the hill. They liked to do these crucifixions where it was visible to many people as they would pass by. It was a reminder to the Jewish people of what could happen if you rebelled against the Roman occupation.
But Jesus didn’t rebel against the Roman occupation. He was here for another purpose. This angered many of my fellow Jews. We have been waiting for the Messiah to deliver us. Some believed it would be a political and governmental deliverance. No longer would we be occupied again. We would have a new King and finally be one people who were free. We have King Herod Antipas, but His power is limited due to the current occupation. He really only keeps his power, so long as He works in cooperation with the Roman authorities.
But Jesus was not here to overthrow a kingdom of man, but show the way to the kingdom of Heaven. He was a carpenter like Joseph and He was a Rabbi, the great teacher sent from Heaven to show us the way. The Son of Man and the Son of God. Some of the people were leaving what was considered the only true form of worship in the temple to follow this Son of Man and his teachings. Those in religious authority were furious and wanted Jesus dead.
Simon makes it to the place where they do the executions. They called this place Golgotha, meaning the place of the skull. They named it this not just because the rock formation resembled a skull; But rather because there were literally human skulls all around in various forms of decay. Not everyone gets a proper burial, or even thrown into a potter’s field. Sometimes, they just throw the dead bodies nearby. I screamed as I tripped on one trying to make it up the hill. Luckily John, the Apostle, was there to help guide me as the skulls and bones lined the path to this barbaric execution.
Then they take Jesus, who can barely stand, and throw him down on top of the cross they had laid down. Then they flipped him over so he was laying with his back against the splintered wood as it dug into him. They tried to push me away as I ran up to him, but I resisted them. They were busy trying to hold him down so they could fasten him to this awful piece of wood.
The irony is not lost on me that this carpenter who spent his lifetime making things, would die himself on a piece of wood. But I can not contemplate that right now as He lets out a scream so loud that it pierces my soul. Instead, as I kneel beside him, I look down at my son who is laying on this wood, this cursed rugged tree. He is shivering and crying, covered in blood and fluids. And as my own tears fall, I smile to him and gently touch his cheek as I wipe away His tears. “Sleep now my son, things will be better soon.” I leaned over and kissed Him on his blood stained cheek as He screams out again; The last spike being nailed into place.
Then the Roman soldiers grabbed me and shoved me away. Then they hang Jesus up with the other two men. The ground shakes as His cross is set in place. His body is so broken at this point, that he is unrecognizable, but a mother knows. I listened for six long hours as he struggled to take every breath. The long pauses in his labored breathing made me think his pain was over, that is, until the next labored breath would start. And with every breath He took bringing both a mixture of joy and sadness. I did not want my baby boy to die, but I did not want Him to suffer any longer.
I had long ago tuned out the voices of the spectators. Some were crying, some were laughing. Others were throwing rocks and sticks at my son and the other two men, as the Roman soldiers gambled away the tattered rags that remained of their clothes.
Finally succumbing to the hypoxia and asphyxiation as his lungs were filling with blood, Jesus lifted his head for the last time and said “It is finished” with his final breath. I watched with tears as they broke the legs of the other two men so that they couldn’t push themselves up to breath. Then they got to my son and decided to use a spear instead. Jesus is already dead and yet they mock him further as the blood flows from his side.
I jumped and screamed as lightning suddenly cracked the sky so loud I swear it split the earth in two. Then rain started pouring down as if to cleanse this hallowed place of all the life blood spilt this day. I could see it dripping off the rocks on the ground and splattered on my clothes; Even my shoes were covered. Then a sudden rushing wind like I never felt before gushed all around. It was so powerful, as if to carry all this blood to the furthest reaches of this cold world.
Then as quickly as it came, it suddenly vanished. It was now so eerily quiet, as if the whole Earth just stopped for a moment. The silence then faded as I heard my name being called. John said that Joseph, a follower of Jesus, had come to bury His body. I nodded in agreement. So John and Joseph pulled the cross out of the hole and laid it on the ground.
One last time I kneel down next to my son. His lifeless body laying there on that rugged tree, this awful piece of wood. Joseph hands me the spices and rags and water. I look down at my son so broken. His body covered in blood and fluids and dirt. I take a rag and the water and begin to wipe his face. I gently moved His hair back which was stuck to his face with dried blood. His eyes looked so hollow and devoid of life as I wiped away bloody tears that had dried. The men get the spikes out and we turn him over, as the gash in His side starts to spill out.
We finish cleaning Him up as best as we can and apply the spices. We then begin to wrap him tightly with the strips of cloth. Just before we finish, I lean over one last time with tears streaming down my face, and I kiss Him on the cheek. “Sleep now my son, things will be better soon.”
John and Joseph placed His body on the cart and we walked to where the tomb was. I just stood back as they placed my son in the tomb and then sealed it up with a large stone. We invited Joseph to come with us, but he had somewhere else to go. So I went with John to where some of the disciples were hiding in the city.
I was met with hugs and condolences. The other women brought out food as we sat around the table. There wasn’t much conversation taking place though, as we were all sad and scared.
We just sat around for two days, not really knowing what to do. We didn’t want to leave for fear of being noticed, but just sitting here was bringing a heavy weight on everyone. I needed to do something. Then I remembered my diary. So I got up and walked over to this window, sat down here, and started to write.
I’m just trying to write it all down so that I remember. Jesus is sleeping peacefully, as is Joseph. I should be asleep but for some reason I’m wide awake. So I figured I would write some things down while I have a chance and everything is so fresh in my mind. Maybe someone will read this someday.
It’s now been three full days. The light is just starting to break over the horizon. Mary Magdalene keeps asking me to go with her to check on the tomb. She wants to bring the extra spices she collected. Although, I don’t know what she is going to do with them. It is not as if we can roll that large stone away without some help.
I know I haven’t written enough entries into this diary. I plan to eventually go back and fill in some of the gaps I missed over the years. In spite of my profound sadness, I remain hopeful. Jesus told me one time that a good story is never truly over. But with Jesus gone, I have no idea what is going to happen with all of us now.
Well I guess if for some reason I don’t get back to write down the other stories, hopefully someone else will take over and fill in the gaps of what I missed. And who knows, they may even write down what happens next. But for now, I’ve got to run. The sun is rising…
The Word of God
Steve Schrock
The Word of God (Bible) is nothing to a man without faith.
It is no more relevant than any other work of historical literature.
Left alone on a shelf, it has no power.
The truths contained, have no meaning.
The prophetic writings, of no value.
The history of the people, of no interest.
The poetry, of no rhyme or effect.
The disciples, just misguided followers.
Jesus, just another teacher and prophet.
The cross, just a poetic tragedy.
The resurrection, just a myth.
The spread of the church, just a conspiracy.
But if put to the test…
The spread of the church, just a family.
The resurrection, just rebirth.
The cross, just salvation.
Jesus, just the Messiah and Savior.
The disciples, just accepted followers.
The poetry, a cry of the soul.
The history of the people, of importance.
The prophetic writings, of great value.
The truths contained, have great meaning.
Proclaimed to all, it has life changing power.
It is more relevant than any other work of historical literature.
The Word of God (Bible) is everything to a man of faith.
The Grave Robber & The Thief
Steve Schrock
A Ragamuffin Story
I wrote a story a long time ago;
Forever etched into my mind.
But I knew a deeper telling must now be revealed,
for we’ve very little time.
It started many years ago
when I took a job for Rome.
A traitor I was then branded,
no longer welcome in my home.
I lost my job when they occupied the city.
They said the taxes were now for them.
But a Centurion then said that I could stay,
as long as to the emperor, I remained a friend.
Collect what is due to Rome He said,
and keep any surplus for yourself.
You can set the rate; make as much as you want.
You can prosper in this land.
The allure of the army’s protection
and the chance at wealth of my own.
Made it an easy choice for me to stay.
We all had to pay our tax anyway.
Nobody likes a tax man,
not in any place or time.
But to work for the occupying invasion
was seen by many as a crime.
So doubly hated there I was,
as I stood there in my booth.
Some spit at me when they walked by.
One man even knocked out my front tooth.
“Next” I’d say as another would approach;
There was often a long line.
I’d hear their complaints and murmurs,
as they’d come to pay their fine.
My own family won’t even speak to me.
They say a disgrace I’ve come to be.
My wife and children even fled from me.
The painful echo of a memory.
This haunting dream is stirring
as I awaken to this empty house.
It’s filled with lavish things,
which I’d sell all just to see my spouse.
I approach the market early,
hoping to buy some meat and bread.
But once again they close their tents to me.
How will I even get fed?
So I go to see the Centurion’s men,
and offer a little bride.
It’s a shame I have to do this,
but it’s the only way I can survive.
Now back to the booth for another day.
I hear someone say “He’s on His way”.
I inquire at who they are talking about,
“The Teacher” I hear them say.
I know who they are talking about now.
I’ve seen Him around before.
His famous sermon from the mountain,
and the ones he did along the shore.
I heard He even healed the sick;
The blind and lame made whole.
Even the demon possessed were freed,
At least that’s what somebody told me.
He seams like a compassionate man,
but I don’t think it’s really for me.
For I’m the outcast of the people.
Of my lot I will never be free.
For who could heal a broken heart?
And the isolation in a crowd?
The lonely haunting of my soul?
Of that, I will never be proud.
“Next”, I say as there is work to be done.
This reminiscing is no fun.
At least these numbers bring some content,
as I calculate how much will be spent.
The crowd starts getting bigger;
And the thought of more money, now appealing.
But then I hear that the Teacher is coming near.
Now my disposition filled with drear.
I really hope He doesn’t stay,
because He will take my customers away.
As they run off to feel inspired,
which means less money I can acquire.
And just as I thought, the crowd starts to leave.
And they head down the road to where He is.
Well I guess I’ll take a break, a reprieve.
Maybe a little dinner I can retrieve.
I start putting the money in a little safe,
in the corner of the booth.
Then put the ledgers and books away.
I guess this is all I’ll get done today.
“Are you still open?” I hear someone say,
and I turn around to respond.
It’s the Teacher, of all people standing there.
Maybe he is here to pay someone’s bond.
“I was just closing up” I say in reply.
“And you being here is the reason why.
Everyone left to go hear you teach,
and give another inspiring speech.”
“I actually came here to see you” He says.
What an odd way to reply.
“Follow me” he said with a smile.
“And your wealth will reach the sky”.
I’m not sure what He is talking about,
but His offer can’t be ignored.
Because He followed that by saying,
“I’ll show you where treasure is stored”.
I finished locking up my booth
as I was doing anyway.
His disciples gave Him a look of appeal,
when He said “Let’s all share a meal”.
They picked up some food along the way,
and we made it to the house.
He said He came to make amends,
and that I should invite some of my friends.
Maybe he was unaware of who my friends were;
We aren’t the most holy bunch.
We are the outcast, the loners, the beggars and thieves.
The ones that are forgot.
I’m ashamed to admit, I only have two friends.
But I guess that will have to do.
But luckily they both agreed to come eat,
and brought their friends for the teacher to meet.
The servants brought in the food now prepared,
It was time for us all to dine.
Then Peter made a joke to the Teacher,
when He asked Him to make us some wine.
We all sat around talking and eating.
The teacher told us of a place so grand.
Where even the gates were made of great pearls,
And of golden streets, unheard of in the land.
There grew quite a large number there,
as even some spectators had arrived.
We were all having fun and laughing,
and just letting the party thrive.
I guess someone told the witch hunters,
as they were standing out there in a group.
One of them asked the disciples
if the Teacher was just after some loot?
“Why else would He be there
with His sin on display?
To go to a thief and dine and stay?”
Their heads hung in utter dismay.
Then the Teacher got up from His seat,
and went to the Pharisees at the door.
He told them He didn’t come for the haughty and proud,
But for the beggars, and sinners, and poor.
You’ve had all this time to figure this out,
So please go learn what it means:
“I desire compassion and not sacrifice.”
The prophet Hosea made that clear.
The crowd started leaving as it was getting late.
We all left the next morning when we awoke.
On our way out of town a woman was healed
as she reached out to touch His cloak.
A girl was raised to life again,
and two blind men regained their sight.
All with the power of His command and touch
And this was all just before lunch.
We continued on our journey.
So many places that we went.
He spoke with such authority.
This teacher must be Heaven sent.
He spoke about the kingdom,
and workers for the field.
And a comforter that would come,
when the time was revealed.
He sent us out to do His work,
and to go after the lost.
But warned us to be careful,
and also consider the cost.
He spoke about an easy burden;
A place of rest for our weary souls.
A Heart connected to a treasure,
but now with kingdom goals.
So many more things did happened.
I think I could write another book.
Some people haven’t read the first one.
I hope they will take a look.
He finally told us the time was here.
And that the end would be drawing near.
As He would be battered and torn,
and made to wear a crown of thorns.
But first He said, “let’s go eat”.
And I watched as Judas soon ran in retreat.
His words of a new covenant come to pass;
The forgiveness of sin offered at last.
We fell asleep in the garden,
while He went off to pray.
Some say it was our fault
for not hearing the soldiers come this way.
And Judas was actually with them,
much to my surprise.
I know it later broke his heart,
and led to his demise.
They hauled the teacher away
and the trials then ensued.
And at the protest of the people,
His fate was now subdued.
They marched him down the crowded street.
He was made to carry his cross.
I ran away in disbelief,
Unable to bear the loss.
I ran on down to the outskirts of town,
to an abandoned house near the road.
Luckily no one was inside,
so I entered the room to hide.
I fell asleep in the corner.
The tears now dried to my face.
Then awoke with such a startle.
It felt like an earthquake shook the place.
I quickly got up and stepped outside.
The sky was black as night.
I heard the crack of thunder,
and saw people running in fright.
“The graves are opened!” I heard a man say,
as He ran off the other way.
The chill in the air could be felt in my bones;
like the eerie feeling of not being alone.
I took off down the street
to where I saw some people gathered.
I asked them what was going on.
They said “the end has finally dawned”.
So I continued down the road
as trouble reached my thoughts.
I remembered what the Teacher said
as His words brought fear and haunt.
This must have something to do with Him.
because of what happed in the last few hours.
I still don’t know what’s going on,
but no one else has that much power.
If what they are saying is true,
and the dead are really back to life;
I now feel guilty for running away
and my heart is filled with strife.
I make it outside the city
and pass by the field of blood.
I see the wood splintered and the opened graves.
The rocks split and lying in the mud.
As I approach the crucifixion site,
nothing about this seams quite right.
The soldiers and spectators now all gone.
The stench of death still in the air.
The crosses now empty and lying on the ground.
The condemned now removed, nowhere to be found.
With blood and entrails still splattered all around,
I gasp to myself at this haunted ground.
I quickly leave there and head back into the city.
My heart still filled with shame and pity
for not being there and for running away.
I fear my fate sealed like those in the grave.
I finally meet up with the other disciples
in a house where they were all staying.
Unable to eat anyway at the thought of events,
we just began fasting and praying.
I finally asked where the woman were at
and John said they stayed at the grave.
They finally showed up a little while later
and said they buried Him in a cave.
We sat and waited for the Sabbath to end,
with apprehension filling in the room.
Finally Mary said that they were going to get up,
and go down to check on the tomb.
A little while later they came bursting in the door
As Mary, the Teacher’s mother, fell to the floor.
“I’ve seen Jesus” she said, her heart filled with glee.
“We are all to go meet Him down by the sea.”
We all hurried in amazement as we ran down the road,
not sure of what we would find.
We came to the hill where He had first spoke
His famous sermon to all of mankind.
We finally saw Him as we approached
and one by one we fell at His feet.
Most of us gazed in amazement,
while some doubted in retreat.
Then the Teacher spoke to us one last time,
and told us all that we would be fine;
With power given by the Spirit above,
as we go out and share His love.
He told us He would be back again,
and to wait until that day.
When the clouds would open up,
and He’d rob the rest of the graves.
We rejoiced and we cried
as we said our goodbyes.
And then we watched with awe
as He was lifted to the sky.
The vivid details coming back to my mind
of that time so long ago.
How from a tax collecting thief
into a disciple I would grow.
And people thought my friend Judas was bad.
But I’m a hundred times the traitor He was.
For He only betrayed our teacher, one man.
While for years I betrayed our entire land.
But then Christ taught us a better way.
How to steal men’s hearts from sin and decay.
And how for the outcast, the beggar, the thief;
The ones that He came for, and those we still seek.
The women and children.
The young and the old.
Whoever will listen
to the stories we’ve told.
To the beggar, the lonely,
the broken, the poor,
the rich and the wealthy,
the addict, the whore.
The table’s been set.
The call’s been sent out.
To trust in the Savior
before time runs out.
Everyone’s welcome to come to the table.
It just takes a little faith and belief.
I know this story was rather long.
But of such importance, it couldn’t be brief.
But it must now be proclaimed till the end of time,
Of a heart changed from doubt to belief.
So please hear this story’s call
from Jesus, the grave robber, and me, Matthew, the thief.
References:
Matthew 6:21, 9:9-38, 10:1-23, 11:28-30, 26:2,25,28, 27:1-66, 28:1-20 (NASB)
Hosea 6:6 (NASB)
2 ropes & 2 trees
By: Steve Schrock
A Ragamuffin Story
The silver coin he offered me
was worth the task at hand.
I’ve never known what it’s like to thrive.
I’m just out here trying to survive.
So I grab my shovel and start to dig.
I better make sure this hole is big.
There are three bodies to bury this time.
Just like the others. All in a line.
The bodies and death never bothered me.
After all, in this world, I’ve never really been free.
The voices that haunt me both day and night;
Awake in the darkness; Asleep in the light.
With the coin in my hand and the task now complete,
I walk down the road to find something to eat.
Maybe with more work, whatever it is;
I’ll get some sandals for my sore blistered feet.
A little food in my hand as I sit by a tree,
looking down at the waves move across the sea.
I see a man waving frantically from the shore.
To the men in a boat, he will not be ignored.
One jumps out of the small wooden boat.
In a hurry it seam, He’s still wearing his coat.
He gets to the land and lays on the sand.
All this at the gesture of another’s command?
Another arrives and gets out the boat.
Then sending the others back out to float.
The two men take off with the waving man too.
Whatever they’re doing? I haven’t a clue.
I finish my food and get up from the ground.
As I start to head back toward the little town.
I don’t have my own home or a place to sleep.
The life of a drifter, where my worry runs deep.
As I walk all alone down the road once again;
The sun starting to set before the new day begins.
Suddenly I here some noises behind me.
So I turn to look. How did they even find me?
It’s the waving man quickly aproaching I see.
The two men behind him just trying to keep pace.
I dart into a field, just trying to flee.
As anxiety swells. I hope they quickly pass me.
I sit in the brush to watch them go by.
When the man that was swimming catches my eye.
My heart starts to pound as they all quickly turn.
I should of ran further. Will I ever learn?
Then the man that was waving earlier by the sea,
approaches and calls out my name.
Reaching down with his hand to help me out of the brush;
He says I’m the reason he came.
Then the one that rowed the boat to the shore
says that I should come with them and stay.
I shuffle a second, looking down to the ground.
As I’m not really sure what to say.
So I follow behind as we walk further down;
As the waving man talks to us all.
He says he was a carpenter just like his old man.
But now he follows his Father’s call.
We finally stop walking as it’s almost dark.
At a little village around the sea.
Capernaum they said was the name of this place.
And He said there was room here for me.
I lay there perplexed, looking up at the stars.
Feeling lonely while surrounded by people.
My uncertainty sets in, about another day.
But it’s not like I have to stay.
The next day we walked to a nearby town.
And He told them the kingdom was near.
The people pressed closer just wanting to see,
as He healed a little boy’s ear.
I’ve never seen anything like this before;
Or heard anyone speak this way.
He must be a teacher or prophet somehow;
That’s what I’ve heard the others say.
I can hardly believe what I see with my eyes,
or what I hear, to understand.
As a demon just fled from an old woman in rags,
with nothing but a command.
I stuck around for a while,
not sure if I would stay.
But I was captivated by the things
that He would do and say.
I’ve always been a prodigal,
never really fit in anywhere.
I wasn’t close with my family;
No one ever seamed to care.
At just that time, He comes to me.
as I’m sitting on a fallen tree.
And He hands me a bag of money,
and says I’m family.
He must not know my story,
or have seen where I came from.
Cause I’ll wait till there’re not looking,
and take that money on the run.
It’s not cause I’m a thief.
I’m just trying to survive.
All alone in this world,
at least I feel that way inside.
From the angry depressing thoughts
that race inside through me.
To the things that no one knows about.
And the pain that no one sees.
The dark voices that flood my mind,
like I’m just here biding time.
Or the swelling bouts of anxiety;
The feeling that I just can’t breathe.
The nightmares that follow throughout the day,
and not just in the night.
Or the reckless behavior that brings regret;
I feel so far from the light.
Early the next day as the sun is rising,
The teacher sends us all out.
But I have to leave the money behind.
I’m not sure what that is about?
I guess we’ll just have to do without?
I’m used to it. It’s ok.
I’m gonna try to figure something out,
to get a big bag of my own one day.
We went all around the countryside
as the teacher put on quite a show.
But He wasn’t just pretending.
He really loved them so.
I can’t believe I’ve stayed this long.
Now it’s been about three years.
Just to watch the miracles performed;
Brings smiles and sometimes tears.
The two fish and some bread;
Or bringing his friend back from the dead;
Or watching the pigs take their big fall;
I was there and saw it all.
The confrontations with the religious elite;
And of the man who got beat near Jericho’s street.
To the woman who reached out for his robe,
just trying to find a little hope.
But I also knew a bunch of people were mad.
Saying the teacher was a fake and was bad.
That he didn’t follow the way of Moses’ teaching.
And that civil unrest and riot status was reaching.
I heard they were plotting and scheming
to bring an end to this teaching man.
I knew I couldn’t stop this progression.
And that’s when I came up with my plan.
They are gonna arrest him anyway,
They are saying He spreads holy lies.
So I thought maybe I could profit from this.
Not knowing it would lead to demise.
I approached the temple in the cover of night.
Doing my best to stay out of sight.
I asked the chief priest the worth to get rid of this man?
And they placed thirty pieces of silver in my hand.
I had never seen that much money before.
This could be a new start for me.
So I told them I’d do it and gave them the sign.
And after that, I would just flee.
The festival was aproaching,
it was now time to prepare.
So I got things set in motion
as we gathered in a room upstairs.
The food was passed with laughter,
As we feasted and drank some wine.
Stories were told, some new and some old.
And I acted like I was just fine.
Suddenly the teacher brought a hush to the room,
when he said that one of us would betray.
I laughed to cover my discomfort.
Thinking he often spoke in riddles this way.
But then he looked right at me.
This time peering into my soul.
I now looked down in shame,
as wine dripped from the upturned bowl
And the warning that he spoke of
about not ever being born.
It haunted me so deeply.
Part of my heart was torn.
By this point they’re all looking at me;
My stomach turning as I’m feeling sick.
My panic attack in full swing now.
When he says “go do it quick”.
I jump up and make it down the stairs.
Then outside for some air.
I cover my head as I make my way to the temple.
As racing thoughts begin to flair.
I meet with the chief priest again
and they send out notice to assemble.
Other priest arrive as well as some town leaders.
A small mob this is beginning to resemble.
A few hours later everyone has arrived.
And now the chief priest walks up to me.
He’s says they are ready and they’ll go where I lead.
Now by this point it’s too late for me to plead.
In my haze of confusion I forgot to ask,
And find out where he would be.
But I remembered the olive mount.
And when he said prayer was the key.
With torches, and clubs, and swords in hand;
We make our way out of the city.
A quiet capture it was supposed to be.
I shake my head as my eyes fill with pity.
We get to the garden in the cool of night.
The other disciples are there.
I can hear the master wake them.
As in the prayer time they would not share.
I quickly walk up to my master and say
“Teacher” with a gentle kiss on his cheek
He then turns with a look of disappointment
“You take me like a criminal you seek?”
At that point I fled away from the scene.
Then I heard a young man scream.
Then a naked man wearing only a sheet
was running in full retreat.
I stay in the shadows the rest of the night.
Unlike my friend Peter, I stayed out of sight.
I sit on some steps and wait for news of his release.
But I’m starting to worry by the early breaking of light.
I finally hear the news, that aren’t done with Him.
An official arrest? And to the governor they send?
This makes no sense to me; I run to see what I can do.
But a guard laughs as I approach, saying this will be his end.
I run back to the priest to plead my case.
This was not what we had agreed.
They said a temple arrest and a warning given,
And then he would be freed.
I told the priest as much.
But they said “What concern of that is ours?”
I told them this was a sin as I threw the money down.
They laughed at me and mocked “go kill yourself, you clown”.
I quickly ran out of there;
the tears streaming down my face.
The anger and the guilt,
shadowed only by my disgrace.
Now stuck in a crowd of people,
I see the teacher being led by.
He stops as we exchange a glance.
Not knowing that soon we both would die.
I watch as they lead him away.
To the governor’s palace he goes.
I turn and run the other way.
Tears again, they start to flow.
The thoughts and voices haunting me
like they never have before.
I scream from the pounding confusion.
Then see a tree, a sycamore.
I run on past the tree,
to a house on the other side.
I see some rope just inside the door
and wedge my way inside.
I grab the rope hanging on the wall,
and a knife off of the table.
Then out the door and around the side,
to a little nearby stable.
I take a look around;
kicking the hay that’s on the ground.
I can’t even do this right.
I laugh and cry in fright.
I then see a little wood stool
just sitting on the floor.
So I pick it up with my one free hand
and turn around once more.
I head back to that cursed sycamore.
It won’t be too much longer now.
I toss the things with a crash to the ground
Now just to figure out how.
So I tie the rope into a knot.
And throw one end over the tree.
Then after cutting the rope for length,
I tie that end around me.
Then standing on the stool,
after placing it under the branch I picked;
Things began to turn to all black
as my legs did one last kick.
Now for the rest of the story that they didn’t tell;
And in my confusion and the chaos that fell;
I never would of guessed that the teacher died.
Let alone have been crucified.
And with a rope and a tree?
Sounds a lot like me.
Both dying that day.
In a horrific way.
But my story wasn’t over.
Cause he rescued me that day.
When he stole the keys from hell.
And we both got away.
I finally asked the teacher why?
Why do some stay sick and others are healed?
Or about the ones with scars not revealed?
Or those forgotten in a potter’s field?
That was the second time I think
I ever saw him cry.
As he dropped to the ground just weeping.
He said it’s not from asking why.
But because it’s only been asked by so few.
And because you think that someone is you.
The forgotten drifter, the outcast that never belonged.
The tormented musician not finding their song.
The writer without a story to tell.
And the ones who think they are destined for hell.
The beggar who cries at the pearly gate.
And the ragamuffin who thinks they sealed their fate.
You see I know all about you, every single detail.
From your hopes to your fears, I know everything well.
The daemons the haunt, as you lay there at night.
To the joy and laughter as you reach for the light.
You were never alone as you hung from that tree.
As I was hanging right there with you, you see.
Everything that you feel, I feel it too.
And just know that I’ll always love you.
There is nothing that you could ever do.
That grace can not erase.
You will forever be my precious creation.
And that’s why I took your place.
So now I think I understand
that he knew me, Judas, most of all.
The rope that hung from a tree,
Reminiscent of us all.
Can we find comfort for ourselves
In the midst of such pain and loss?
The answer lies with a rope and a tree
and the teacher on the center cross.
Matt 9:13 (NASB)
“But go and learn what this means: ‘I DESIRE COMPASSION, AND NOT SACRIFICE,’ for I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
Dedicated to: my ragamuffin family… You are always loved.
Author’s note: While this story is based on real events as told in the Bible, additional fictional elements were added for creative purposes. Mental Illness is a very real issue with suicide a tragic and final ending. The idea of reward for such an act is not to be inferred. If you are suffering from mental illness or suicidal thoughts, please seek assistance from a mental health professional.
3 & a tree + me
By: Steve Schrock
A Ragamuffin Story
We took something that wasn’t ours.
We’ve done it many times before.
Thought we’d always get away,
But this time couldn’t be ignored.
And that’s just one of the things I’ve done.
Too many things for me to list here.
Some call them crimes; Some say they are sins.
Is this really how it ends?
Shackled in a cell with two other criminals,
But I’m the most famous of them all.
Some call me an animal.
But now my pride seems small.
I hear a gate unlock as they bring another in.
They drag him past my cell in a hurry.
I see His hands and feet are bound;
But He doesn’t see me as he stares at the ground.
But I see who it is. I’m not sure why He is here.
I’ve seen Him around many times before.
I thought he was some kind of religious man,
Like his cousin Johnny boy.
And they didn’t like that man either.
His words just brought them fear and dread.
Until that woman plotted and schemed
for the king to take his head.
Surely that’s not what’s happening here,
I heard he healed the sick and His disposition sunny.
But my friend told me about the temple riot,
I thought that was kinda funny.
They finally brought us a little food to eat,
Some water and some bread.
It’s been three days since we had anything,
Figured they just wanted us dead.
It’s hard to sleep on this cold hard ground.
My thoughts keep going ’round and ’round.
The new guy finally speaks something crazy,
Saying we are lost but can be found.
I think He is delirious,
But maybe He’s just being kind.
Oh wait! I know what’s going on.
He turned His water into wine!.
The talking wakes me from my sleep.
I see the others are awake.
He’s telling them about a rebuilt temple.
Nothing about that to me seams simple.
But then he turns and looks a me,
And says He will fix my heart of stone.
It’s like He can see into my soul
as I say “I do feel all alone”.
He continues teaching us; Waiting for dawn to break.
But the last thing that he said, confirmation of a basket case.
Telling the other two He would die with them,
But also that He’d take my place.
The sudden opening of the gate
startles me from my thought.
As they quickly drag Him out;
Like someone they just caught.
I hear some noise outside,
But don’t know what the ruckus is.
My name is chanted to my surprise,
or will it be to my demise.
The gate opens once again,
but this time, it’s for me.
I think they got it wrong
when they said I’m now free.
But I’m not sticking around,
In case they change their mind.
I hurry quickly out the door,
And to the first road I can find.
As I try to make my way out of the city;
This place is really full and crowded.
I see one of his followers pass with a woman;
She’s dressed in black and her face is shrouded.
As I finally stop to take a breath,
And steal some fruit from a little stand;
A mob starts heading right at me,
As the air is filled with stirring sand.
I stay ahead of the approaching crowd,
But their voices, they are getting loud.
What I hear them yell makes my blood run cold.
Like a nightmare that you don’t want told.
All over some fruit? This town is crazy.
They just had me released.
But the looks on their face, while some in disgrace,
Seams like they want ole’ Barabbas deceased.
I finally stop at a crossway.
As others are blocking the road.
I probably won’t get through this for a while,
So might as well rest and take off a load.
I look around me and breathe a sigh of relief.
As this seams to not be my loss.
Because this road as everyone knows,
Is also called the way of the cross.
The street is now cleared as some soldiers approach.
They walk by starring straight ahead.
But I sink my head in shame and despair,
As my two friends with their trees, follow where they are led.
I turn around to leave. Hope to find an open way or door.
A little girl looks up at me and says “Don’t leave! There’s still one more!”.
I turn back around as I see them approach, But this one is wearing a crown.
I wince out of pity as He yells out in pain, while falling down to the ground.
He lays there motionless for what seams like a hour.
He is covered in blood and sand.
All of a sudden I fall to the ground, as I see now who it is.
While a soldier makes a man come give a hand.
I didn’t recognize him till now.
What I don’t understand is how?
What did they do to this beaten teacher?
And they think I’m an animal? Some creature?
Just a few days ago it was praise and palm branches,
Now it’s yelling, and shouting, and evil glances.
From jubilee songs and the blast of a horn;
Now it’s sticks and whips and a crown of thorns?
He has lost so much blood, He is barely alive.
I don’t know how anyone could to this point survive.
Even children are throwing rocks at the behest of their elders.
His ripped open flesh not repairable by any medicine welder.
They move on past as the crowd presses on,
I get stepped on as I try to get up.
I want to go the other way,
But the crowd’s not having that today.
At least I’ll be out of the city soon,
Then I can be on my way.
But having to follow His trail of blood,
Makes me weep and want to stay.
We finally make it outside the city gate,
To a place they call Golgotha.
I can hear the screams of my two friends.
Already hanging, awaiting their end.
Then a piercing scream louder than the others,
I swear it almost shook the ground.
As I see a soldier hold up another spike,
And hear the hammer’s pound.
They raise him up on his tree in the air,
Then drop it harshly in the ground.
I hear His joints and the wood splinters cracking,
It was a very eerie sound.
They placed him in the middle
right where I was supposed to be.
Between my two friends in rags,
I can’t believe he did that for me.
They placed a sign above his head,
That said “THE KING OF THE JEWS”.
The people were still mocking him.
How much more can this man loose?
He is still talking to my friends,
While they are hanging there.
One just mocked and criticized,
The other was given paradise.
Tears stream down my face,
As for mercy my friends beg.
Soldiers then approach their cross,
And broken are their legs.
Now my friends are gone,
Unable to stand to breathe.
I just hope they found some peace,
Or in the next life some reprieve.
The man in the middle is only one left,
And He is just talking to they sky.
I couldn’t hear everything he said,
But I heard him asking “Why?”
I shake my head in disbelief,
As the solders gamble for his rags.
While that man is above them dying,
Just so one of them can brag.
Then the clouds come fast approaching,
As the sky turns black as night.
Wind howling all around,
As the spectators run from sight.
Even the soldiers start to leave,
But one picks up a spear,
And stabs it deep in the teacher’s side.
While I was close enough to hear.
With entrails and organs splattered on the ground,
My head starts spinning like I’m upside down.
I just added to it when my fruit turned around.
There is no way anymore, I could keep that down.
As I turn back around once more to look.
The follower and the woman in black were near.
The teacher’s mother is who this is,
As I hear her weeping “my son so dear”.
I take a step back as they take him down,
His broken body laying on the ground,
In his mothers arms for one last time,
As a place to put him was quickly found.
They carried him off to be placed in a grave,
That’s when I took off the other way.
Away from the trauma of what I just saw,
And look for a new place to live and to stay.
Now it’s been a long time since all that occurred.
It was many years ago.
But I thought it was time to write it all down.
My story that no one knows.
About the kindness of a teacher,
With opposing actions of a thief.
To give of himself and not to take,
Just to transform my unbelief.
Now you might not remember about ole’ me,
Or my small part in this story.
But the one who should get all the fame,
The Nazarene; Jesus is his name.
You never knew that I was there.
It’s not written in a book.
But I was the first one that he freed that day.
Just take a closer look.
For He didn’t just save one thief that day
For He also saved me too
And when He took my place on calvary
He also died for you
John 8:36 (NIV)
So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.
Panic Picnic
By: Steve Schrock
08-20-19
The panic starts to set.
The Fear of the unknown.
The screaming voices in my head
Even before I was grown
Who is it talking again to me?
Who is it looking that I can’t see?
I don’t know who I have become.
Or is this just a part of me?
Which part of me is me?
Where do I find myself?
My mind in constant overdrive.
Do I know that I need help?
Who is it I can trust to know?
I don’t know how this one will go.
This claustrophobic atmosphere.
Anxiety just won’t let me slow.
Can’t catch a breath;
Can’t settle down;
Screaming silence all around;
Dragging me down to the ground.
Blurry vision spinning around,
In this psychedelic merry go round.
Just let it stop. Let me get off.
As my head begins to pound.
Sit on a blanket in the sun.
Maybe today will be some fun.
Open my basket; Pull out a gun.
Now I just want to drop and run.
I had to bring my basket along,
Filled with what I fear the most.
Why couldn’t it be a simple song?
or maybe some tea and toast?
What else is it I will find
In this basket of my own design?
Candy trail mix in a bag;
Bitter, sweet, and sometimes sad.
An empty plate that’s still too full;
not sure what to do today.
In every direction they do pull;
My mind in disarray.
Wide open space of isolation.
The upright side of upside down.
Shattered bits of formed creation.
The screaming echo of no sound.
The darkened clouds surrounding me.
The empty filling of this lunch.
Sticks and stones lay all around.
Chicken sandwich for my brunch.
Scratch and claw to take a breath.
Wipe my face; Napkin of regret.
Pounding heartbeat is what’s left.
Just waiting for the sun to set.
It’s time to pack it all away
and try again another day.
Exhaustion of this restful sleep.
Maybe hope my heart will keep.
To have this panic is not weak.
To feel it all but still to seek.
Nor’ dark and light within me fake;
As I wait for the morning sun to break.
Redefine
By: Steve Schrock
09-28-19
Crouched down in the corner,
as I’m sinking to the floor.
My head still spinning faster;
please today, no more.
A thought, a flash, a memory
is all it really takes.
A sound, a taste, a smell,
drag me back into my hell.
I can feel blood dripping down
off of my head onto my feet.
But I don’t see it on my hands
As I sit in my retreat.
Not every cut is from a blade;
Not every scar is shown.
But every cut is very real,
and every scar was sewn.
I wipe my tears and stand back up,
And I’ll tell you I’m ok.
After all that’s what I’m supposed to do;
A fake smile for today.
I thought that’s what it was?
How love is supposed to be?
Doesn’t the good book say to love,
Regardless of what you show me?
I think it’s time to take a closer look.
‘Cause that’s not in the pages of the book.
Where I get another jewel upon my crown;
For remaining in harm when I get beat down.
But let your light shine in the dark?
‘Cause it only takes a spark?
But my candle’s flame snuffed out in smoke
by the mind games that you spoke.
Where I struggle to breathe and sit in fear
In this narcissistic atmosphere.
Where at will, you tighten or loosen the noose.
This is not love. This is abuse.
Our words got twisted in our mind.
Now is the time to redefine.
Abuse is Abuse and love is love.
One from below and one from above.
Or do you think that maybe, just maybe,
You were made for something greater?
A true understanding of love by design
authored by the great Creator.
Rediscover the you inside;
You’ve been gone for far too long.
It’s ok to set some boundaries,
and find where you belong.
We only have one life to live.
And we’re all called to show love.
But you are also worthy of love;
By others too and not just above.
So protect yourself and stand your ground.
And remember you aren’t alone.
And then one day when you look back
you’ll see how much you’ve grown.
Proverbs 4:23 (HCSB)
Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life.
3ministry 