The promised story. :)

     "The Sanhedrin was assembled, but there was no one to judge."  The man laughed.  "As you can imagine, that didn't make the men's tempers any better.  Finally, someone reported that they were in the temple courts again, teaching."
     Luke nodded, and the narrator proceeded.
     "When the guards brought them before us, Annas was the first to speak:
     "'We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, yet you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching, and are determined to make us guilty of this man's blood.'
     "His voice was high and haughty, but that was understandable.  After all, we thought that he was the only man who could intercede between us and God.
     "The men were not disturbed at the high priest's accusation.  They replied, 'We must obey God rather than men!  The God of our fathers raised Jesus from the dead- whom you killed by hanging him on a tree.  God exalted him to his own right hand as Prince and Savior that he might give repentance an forgiveness of sins to Israel.  We are witnesses of these things, and is is the Holy Spirit, whom God has given to those who obey him.'
     "With that, cries of 'Blasphemy!' rang out across the room and in my own heart."
     The storyteller paused here.  Even if Luke hadn't been one of his closest companions, the agony on the man's face would have been evident.  Several minutes passed before he began to speak again.
     "Of course we were angry.  Everyone's tempers had been on edge before the men got there, and the speech did nothing to calm us.  How dare these men tell us that what they had seen- if indeed they saw it, a fact which I highly doubted- was greater than our law.  A carpenter from Nazareth could not forgive sins.  No, we, God's chosen people, Abraham's descendants, we were the ones who obeyed God.  We brought sacrifices to the temple each year and took great care to follow the law.
     "As these thoughts raced through my head, waves of fury broke over me, and indeed, the entire room seemed to be vibrating with hatred, fear, and self-righteous anger.  There were whispers that the men deserbed to die immediately- a solution I found immensely to my liking.  Then, among the confusion, my teacher stood.
     "'Put the men outside.' he thundered.
     "His name was Gamaliel.  The people loved him and esteemed him highly.  I was fortunate to have such a rabbi, and I knew it.  Still, I wriggled uncomfortably in my seat as he stood there.
     "'Men of Israel,' he addressed us, 'Consider carefully what you intend to do with these men.'
     "Just as I had expected, Gamaliel had remained calm.  His voice was under control, and his wisdom, which had won him favor among the people, had not forsaken him.
     "He began his lecture.  'Some time ago Theudas appeared, claiming to be somebody, and about four hundred men rallied to him.  He was killed, all his followers were dispersed, and it all came to nothing.'
     "Some of the older heads were nodding.  He continued,
     "'After him Judas the Galilean appeared in the days of the census and led a band of people in revolt.  He, too, was killed, and all his followers were scattered.  Therefore, in the present case I advise you:  Leave these men alone!' his voice rose louder, 'Let them go!  For if their purpose or activity is of human origin, it will fail.'
     "No one could disagree with him.  By this time, it seemed that most of the men had been persuaded.  I was too, but, unlike them, I continued to listen.
     "'But if it is from God, you will not be able to stop these men.'
     "The message was simple:  Let's let Rome deal with the radicals.
     "Something inside me rebelled.  I refused to sit there and let out traditions and faith be blasphemed everywhere.  'Gamaliel might be content to sit back and wait for Rome to come to the rescue,' I thought, 'But I will fight for God.'"
     The old head sagged.  "I was so young, and so foolish."
     Luke looked into the kindly eyes of the man who had been his traveling companion and father in faith- the very faith that he had once persecuted.
     "Yes, but God has used that ugly story in powerful ways."
     Paul smiled.  "His grace to me was not without effect."

Epilogue
Gentiles everywhere praise God that Jesus is the only man who can intercede between us and God...  And for the testimony and encouragement of this godly man.

That's all I've got, folks.  If you want more of Paul's story, Read Acts 9, or any of his letters in the New Testament.  They're pretty awesome.  :)  
 

About that story...

This is Friday, and I don't have it up.

It is coming soon, I promise.

Sorry for the delay...

~Julianne

A long prologue for a short story

Prologue

     Imagine with me, for a moment, a sixth-grade girl.  Give her straight brown hair, a serious face, and height somewhat taller than you'd normally associate with someone her age.  I'll tell you from experience that her face is not always pensive, but it should be right now.  Why?  Because she's a Bible quizzer, and she's studying the book of Acts.  Contrary to the beliefs of some of her teammates, she does actually put effort into this.
     Okay, do you see her?  Good.  Now, let's peek over her shoulder at the little book she's reading.  It looks like she's working on Acts 5.
     There's a certain passage she's puzzling over.  She furrows her eyebrows.
     Let's look at it with her.

"When they heard this, they were furious and wanted to put them to death.  But a Pharisee named Gamaliel, a teacher of the law, who was honored by all the people, stood up in the Sanhedrin and ordered that the men be put outside for a little while.  Then he addressed them:  'Men of Israel, consider carefully what you intend to do to these men.  Some time ago Theudas appeared, claiming to be somebody, and about four hundred men rallied to him.  He was killed, all his followers were dispersed, and it all came to nothing.  After him, Judas the Galilean appeared in the days of the census and led a band of people in revolt.  He too was killed, and all his followers were scattered.  Therefore, in the present case I advise you:  Leave these me alone!  Let them go!  For if their purpose or activity is of human origin, it will fail.  But if it is from God, you will not be able to stop these men; you will only find yourselves fighting against God."

~Acts 5:33-39

     She likes the speech.  It is logical, organized, and her side of the argument wins.  Unconsciously, she wishes her life was like that.

     The problem isn't the speech.

     No, despite what her actions often imply, she does think about this stuff once in a while.  She's puzzling over verse 34:

   

"But a Pharisee named Gamaliel, a teacher of the law, who was honored by all the people, stood up in the Sanhedrin and ordered that the men be put outside for a little while."

~Acts 5:34

     "That's funny." she thinks.  "Luke definitely wasn't a part of the Sanhedrin, and they just sent the Christians out of the room.  So how does he know what Gamaliel said?"

     All right, now fast forward in time.  The sixth-grade girl looks like the one on the sidebar.  She's sitting in church, and the pastor is reading from Acts.  Her facial expression is serious, but she's smiling inside.  As someone who loves re-reading books, she's finding this to her liking.  In fact, since she spent so much time with it in sixth grade, it feels much like meeting up with an old friend.

     The pastor comes to the passage discussed above, and somehow she reaches back and answers a question she'd forgotten she'd even asked.

     Her head starts buzzing with ideas for a story. 

     On Thursday, she's gonna share it with you.

At the beach- part three

One of my favorite things to do is stand where the waves are lapping against the shore.  I close my eyes, and with each new stream of water, I feel my heels digging into the sand.  Often, the same hymn come to my mind:

"On Christ the Solid Rock I stand.

All other ground is sinking sand.

All other ground is sinking sand."

~Edward Mote, "The Solid Rock"

 

It seems that one of the constant struggles in my life is trusting God.  I find myself worrying, making demands, or getting angry way more often than I kneel at the feet of my Creator, trusting that He has a plan and asking for His peace.

 

 

The other day, I knew that I was standing by a lake.  I knew, not because there was a visible difference between that beach and the ones I've visited near the ocean, but because I've seen a map.  There are no oceans anywhere near the city we were visiting.  Still, if I hadn't seen the bigger picture, I would not have known the difference.

 

Unfortunately, I haven't discovered a map for life.  I just like to pretend that I know what I'm doing.  But you know what?  God sees all of space.  He sees all of time, both present and past.  The seemingly endless horizon at the beach makes me feel small, but somewhere the water does meet land again.  I must be almost invisible in the perspective from which God views me, yet He cares enough about me to never leave me or forsake me.  The thought awes me.

Maybe that's why I usually walk away from the beach feeling refreshed.  By the great expanse of water and sky, with my feet sinking under me, I'm reminded of God's majesty and my own inadequacy. 

My sister's awesome map (At the beach -part two)

In case you've forgotten my last post, I was talking about a recent trip to the beach with my friends.  It was so cold that my feet wished that they were in Tampa Bay.

Thankfully, my sister had a solution.

Actually, she, too, was cold, and did not see any point in freezing herself further by wading in the water.  Instead, she drew this amazing map in the sand: 

 See her up there in the corner?  She's drawing Alaska.  This is Hawaii, which was off to the left and much closer to the waves.

 Alaska, complete.

 Once upon a time, I also knew how to do this.  I'm afraid that my map falls apart at Kentucky and/or Wisconsin whenever I attempt.  I was impressed by her memory, and also the look of it in the sand.

Good work, Allison!

At the Beach- part 1

It was a beautiful, sunny day.  The first we'd seen since we left home.  Seventy-four degrees felt warm, so we headed to the beach.  We forgot one thing.

Following stormy days of sixty degrees, huge lakes are cold.

I suppose that blaming our memories is a bit unfair.  We hadn't forgotten.  Last year, the water was cold, but we'd waded out to where we could body surf.  Our chaperones told us not to go out that far this year, since rip tides were a concern.

"That's okay."  Some of my friends said.  "Julianne is a lifeguard."

Except that Julianne is a lifeguard who does not deal with rip tides or rescuing people without her floatation device.  "If you get caught, swim parallel to the shoreline."  I told them.  "Then I'll call the coast guard."

I also found out that I don't do well with cold water on windy days.  Behold:

The water is up to my ankles.  That's as far as I ventured.  Still, I was glad we went.  There's something about the beach that makes me happy.  What's your favorite beach memory?

To my blog

Hey there.

It's been a while.

I just want you to know that I haven't forgotten you.

I'll be back soon.


Sincerely,
Your Rather Negligent Author