Souls

I have been among the masses lately. Easy to imagine Jesus walking among those He longed to save. Just wondering as I stroll through them, finding my way, do they know Him? Any of them? Would they like to? There is a truth inside of me that I am required to share ... outwardly ... actions and words matching well through me revealing and representing the Lord. Sometimes that happens. I wish for more than sometimes.

I am bumping shoulders and elbows and at times I feel their breath on my shoulder as we struggle toward our destinations. And I wonder, do they know Him?

Have they ever been introduced, drawn, heard?

Would they want to?

Knowing that He lives and choosing one's own way ... scary.

Not knowing Him ... scary ... terrifying even ... keeps one continuously searching for peace. Longing even. Remaining empty.

Keep thinking, my eye on each one as if there were just one ... do they know?

And I think of some ... not yet.

Not, no they don't know Him, but they don't know Him yet. There is time to pray for their souls to be saved, rescued, delivered from a disastrous eternal fate.

I wonder, am I the only in this crowd of people thinking about eternal things? No, the Spirit is here and working.

Praying for wayward ones that I know, family, friends, neighbors who don't know Him ... yet ... and hope rises up in my heart encouraging faith and prayers for them.

A Chapter

Memories surround me today

little barefoot boys running through the yard

with bouquets in hand freshly gathered from the blooming meadow.

Squishy mud between little toes from crossing creeks and catching tadpoles.

Squeals of joy as splashes of water escape the horse tank where they swim.

I feel lonely for those days.

Sometimes I want to momentarily borrow them back,days where memories were born.

To hear little voices say big things, delivering news that made me laugh ... and sometimes cry.

Innocent prayers from tiny lips that brought about answers ... God proving Himself real so that they would know Him ... forever.

"Looking back all the time will age you," they say, "look ahead now".

My looking forward seems more meaningful when I glimpse back on what we built here.

Yesterday a little maid handed me a wildflower from the blooming meadow and I pushed it behind my ear and memories were stirred from the mantle of my heart.

They linger with the new of morning.

I sit and ponder them awhile.

I enjoy.

Then I move on.