“Some Jew,” I answered. “Man, am I tired of these guys with their strange laws and their goofy ideas. This one says he’s the king of the Jews!” My head tilted back in laughter at this ludicrous thought. How could the Jews have a King? After all, weren’t they our prisoners? Captives in their own land, that could never happen to us Romans. King indeed. Ha! Continue reading The Roman Soldier
Children ran screaming, looking for a safe place.
I knew what was next. Soon we would be bombarded from above. I covered my tuna sandwich, and gathered up my chips. No room to hold the milk, it was on its own. Continue reading The Mark Twain Bombers
Muttering under my breath, my feet scurrying across cobblestones as fast as my stubby, aged legs will allow, I hurried to a disaster scene. “How could this have happened? We took all the necessary precautions. I’m telling you, heads will roll for this!”
I climbed the last hill, huffing and puffing, begging for air to breathe. As I crested the hill I saw the scene of my worst nightmare. Soldiers were lying on the ground, looking like dead men. Continue reading The Chief Priest
I hate these guys. They have their fancy armor and swords and all their pomp. They can all kiss my… Who’s this guy? Man, he is torn up! He can barely walk into the holding cell where they have kept us locked up like animals. “If I get out of here, I’m going to hunt down you and your family!” I scream at the guard at the door.
“Good thing for me the only way you’ll get out of there is strapped to a cross,” he laughs. I’m going to find a way to hurt him before I get out of here. He’s right, though. There is no getting out, no legal recourse. I’m going to die. Continue reading The Unrepentant Thief
My palm fronds from last week are still lying on the floor of my house. I can’t believe I was such a fool. I spent all last Sunday shouting about this Jesus guy and welcoming him as the Messiah. Continue reading The Onlooker In The Crowd
My Lord is gone, arrested by soldiers, and I watched it happen.
Jesus warned us that this was coming. He asked us to watch and pray in the garden with him. Why didn’t I? Why couldn’t I do this one thing for the Man who has given me everything?
I tried to help Him. When that pig Malchus put his hand on Jesus, I drew my sword and cut off his ear. His ear! I wanted to kill him, and instead all I did was maim him. Big deal. Continue reading Peter’s Story
A rope, a gun, a sharp object, prescription meds. These are only some of the ways I have seen people end their lives. In my job as a crime scene investigator I have been to these tragic scenes more often than I wish. The methods they choose are different, but they all have one thing in common: hopelessness.
They have different reasons. Some are in physical pain and can’t go on anymore. Some fear that they will be a burden to family. Some have decided that their life problems are insurmountable. Others do it out of anger, wishing to make those who have hurt them pay. No matter what the motive, they all leave behind pain and suffering. Their pain is over, but for the survivors the pain is just beginning. Continue reading Suicide
So let me get this straight. We’re surrounded by three armies. They all want to kill us. They’re on the other side of the hill we’re walking toward, and I am in front?
I’m a singer! I don’t have a sword. I have a songbook. A songbook! What good is that going to do me in the battle? Nothing, zip, zilch, bupkis. Except I know something the Ammonites, Moabites and Meunites… is that even a country? Who ever heard of Meunites? Anyway, I know something they don’t. I know that God has promised to give us the victory. Hey, He even said we wouldn’t have to lift a finger in this battle. Just stand still and watch what God does. Continue reading Battle Choir
Every day my family drags me down to the Sheep Gate and plops me down on the sides of the pool of Bethesda. I’m not just laying around, though. I am waiting for the waters to stir. You see, every time they stir, the first one in the pool gets healed. Of course, I’m never the first one in. Problem is, I can’t move so good, and somebody beats me to the water every time. Maybe one of these days I will be first in the water. Someday. Of course, it hasn’t happened yet, and I have been lying here for thirty-eight years. Maybe tomorrow. Probably not, though… Continue reading No Hairspray, No Cameras, Just Help
The woman walked to her cupboard and pulled out the alabaster box. The box had been in her family for years. It cost a year’s salary, but the precious spikenard fragrance inside was worth every penny. She carefully pulled the bottle from its safe place and held it close to her chest. It may have cost a lot of money, but to her it was priceless.
What she was about to do was so wasteful, so unnecessary, so impractical. It wouldn’t make any sense to anyone who was there, or even heard about it later. She never hesitated, didn’t think twice. She was so consumed with love that no sacrifice would be too high or cost too much. Continue reading The Alabaster Box