Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts

Tuesday 27 January 2015

Help! Where Have I Been?

 Help! Where have I been?? I've been feeling like my tires were

spinning in a mud hole while  the tools I needed were in my trunk all along.  So what tools you ask? 

Saturday 13 December 2014

Saturday 19 April 2014

Grieving Mary

Excerpt from my book: Mary's Diary, the Life of Jesus through His Mother's Eyes
Dear Diary;


I am so distressed! There is something in the air! I can feel it! The


animosity towards Yeshua is as thick as an ominous cloud. I know the


religious rulers are planning evil against Him. I know He is not safe


here. Oh, Yeshua, Yeshua, I wish You hadn’t come. I wish You would

flee like a bird to the mountains! I wish that HaShem, God would somehow


hide You like He did when they wanted to cast you off the embankment



in Nazareth! I fear for You! I’m so afraid the Great I AM will not save


you, this time.

Oh, El’Elohim, have mercy, please, please have mercy on my Son.



231



Eventide


Of the same day


Dear Diary;

Yeshua and His talmidim, disciples went to a friend’s place to celebrate the


Passover. I would have given all that I have to have been there with Him.



I spend much time on the rooftop gazing at the darkening sky, my


hands clasped in prayer. I think I saw Him leave John Mark’s house


and head for the Olive Orchard. Oh I wish He would stay where it is


safe . . . a little safer, at least.


Later, much later; I saw soldiers with torches heading that way.


It can mean no good. Oh, that my eyes could see in the dark and


penetrate through trees, so I could know what was going on. Someone


tell me, please, what is that hubbub in the streets all about? At this


hour. Oh, what is going on? Tell me, please, tell me what is going on?


Oh, Yeshua, Yeshua! Are you safe? Is it well with You?


Dear Diary;


A man is running down the street! Would He be coming to this


house? He runs like Yochanam (John)

! He sees me! He is calling my name! He


wants me to come! It must be because of Yeshua!


I must go!


20th Nissan


April 12th


Dear Diary;


They crucified my Son, today. I can hardly bear to sit down and


write, yet if I do, perchance there will be healing for my spirit. Nay


there cannot be healing. Nothing can heal my torn, bleeding, broken

spirit. There is no grief as insufferable as losing a tinoki in such a cruel,


heartless way. I can not go on.



The agony is too great.

232


20th Nissan


April 12th


Dear Diary;


Sleep has fled, and my head is pounding terribly so I might as well


try to put my thoughts on paper. It has always helped in the past. I shall


never be able to get those horrible scenes out of my mind. No one can


describe my suffering as I stood on the dark, wind-swept hill watching


my Son, my beautiful, dear, precious Son writhe in pain while the


lightning flashed around Him. The lightning seemed to be trying, but


never quite succeeding, to strike Him like vicious serpents! Oh, why


did they do this to Him? He was always so good, and kind, and loving.

Why did HaShem allow it?


There is one thin shaft of light that has pierced my agony. Even



while dear Yeshua hung there on the cross, He remembered how much


I would be suffering, and weakly called out to me; “Madam, behold


Thy Son!” My eyes were drawn to His eyes, and although I saw so


much concern for me in them, I also saw so much pain that I could


hardly handle it! They seemed to be saying, “I am doing this for you,

Imma, and all of the rest of God’s children, besides.”


Then his eyes turned toward John, and He said to him, “Behold



your mother.” I think He was asking His beloved disciple John to


care for me because His own brothers were still irritated or confused by


the kind of Man He had been. John has a tender heart much like


Yeshua’s own. In some way, in a soothing way, it will seem like having


Yeshua back home with me, because John will not be gone all the


time doing miracles, and drawing crowds like Yeshua did.


Oh, how could I forget . . . even for a moment! He won’t be gone . . .


gone . . . like . . . ohhhh . . .


Much later; I sank to my knees, sobbing my heart out.
John knelt beside me. He let me bury my head on his shoulder,

just like a beloved son would.