Isaiah 43:4

“Because you are precious in my eyes, 

and honored, and I love you..."

Redemption

Rahab

saved all of Israel because she believed. 

"...I know that the Lord has given you this land..." 

Joshua 2:9

"By faith the prostitute Rahab..."

Hebrews 11:31

She became the wife of Salmon

and the mother of Boaz.

Boaz,

who rescued Ruth.

Ruth, 

who rescued Naomi.

"Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab,

Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth..." 

Matthew 1:5

What other rescuers are in the line of Rahab?

Rahab is in the line of Christ.

Christ who rescued me. And you.

We can't get to the Messiah without redemption. 

"...and Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary, 

and Mary was the mother of Jesus who is called the Messiah." 

Matthew 1:16

Life

The desert was a deep prison. A blanket of darkness covered it in ways night could not. There was no light and no memory of it.

Her eyes shone a piercing shade of green, but they were covered by a thick fold of cloth. It meant to blind her, but could not. She saw with her spirit. A voice whispered to her. A presence led her. Now. This way. Go. Stand. Wait. She heard every word clearly. 

She stepped confidently and missed every landmine buried in the sand. Some by miles, others by an inch or less. It made no difference how close they were, she avoided them all. If she'd walked by sight she never would have made it. Only by faith could she navigate what was hidden right beneath her feet. 

Following the still small voice had taken her to the River of Life, a great roaring tumble of every ocean known to man, every creek and tear and sweat of the brow. It gathered like a storm and swept through the desert when its time came. The sand moved quickly. The water reshaped, pushed, and transformed it.

She watched as the landmines she'd slipped past were pulled to the surface by the rush of waves and piled up at the base of the river. They were pummeled relentlessly until each went off, one by one, and thousands all at once. They lit the night like the brightest day. Then every eye could see where they had been and what had taken place under the shroud of darkness. 

The desert swept away and life bloomed there. She thought it was beautiful and pulled the blindfold from her eyes.

Storm

Quiet

Psalm 122:6-9

Pray for peace in Jerusalem:

"May those who love her be safe.

May there be peace within her walls

and safety within her strong towers."

To help my relatives and friends, 

I say, "Let Jerusalem have peace."

For the sake of the 

Temple of the Lord Our God,

I wish good for her. 

Church

Isn't it amazing that people made this?

Tomorrow

In those days, the sky was purple. In the evenings it became gold, glittering and vibrant, as though the sun shone on it in the dark. 

She was 80 that day, nearly 81, and walked the narrow way with ease. These old streets were tight and originally made for carriages. It was amazing they were still in use, like history leading the way to tomorrow. 

Her destination was the church, as tall as the purple sky and as old as the stone street beneath her feet. Its spires reached only up, but seemed to extend all around and into every home in the building's shadow. Three men of her family worked there: two as priests, one as a worshiper.

She passed familiar places on her way. So many nations had come to join with this one in those days. The signs on the shop doors were in many languages, some in the words of this land, others in Sanskrit and Gaelic and symbols she could not identify, but understood clearly because she'd been in each of these places many times. 

Some sold pastries, others artwork and musical instruments, kites. One took in many items and gave them all away. It stayed in business for reasons that were hard to explain, but the more they gave away, the more they had.

She was a stone's throw from the cathedral when she began to think about her life. She'd lived many years so far, and had the sensation recently of being carried through them all. Her knees did not give out. Her steps were strong. She'd lived eight decades but had eyes like a child, filled with wonder. Each day was a new beginning. Each turn around a corner brought a new adventure. She looked forward to the coming day.

She was old. The church was older. In its lifetime it had changed more than she had. The faith at one time divided up into clusters, tiny groups of parishioners who believed one small thing over another small thing another group believed. But in these days the church was one united body. There was no place for discord, only worship, and no division, only reasons to sit together and pray. 

She entered the building at the far end, as always overwhelmed by the amount of gold there. It sang like the sky and glimmered with its own light.

"Welcome," said a priest. 

She smiled.