Susan LaffertyTennis. I took lessons once upon a time. During my elementary school years. Early morning lessons to avoid the tropical midday heat of Surabaya.
I learned how to hold the racket. Practiced forehand and backhand. And remember this advice, “Keep your eyes on the ball.”
Somehow watching the ball instead of the court and other players and my racket meant I had a chance of hitting it across the net.
Read through the Bible in a year. I take the challenge years ago. And eventually it becomes a regular practice. Using various plans. McCheyne’s. Or our church’s outline for the congregation.
Sometimes I take a year. Other times, two.
The daily plunge covers a lot of ground through the Old and New Testaments. A big-picture look at Scripture.
The breadth and depth of His Word challenges and captivates me.
The wilderness soundtrack sounds like desert thirst. Barren field. Little fruit.
We sit in a conference with workers from some of those fields. Where the gospel has been sung. Refrain after refrain.
To no response.
Their voices strain at the chords. Lament in the place of veiled hearts. Where darkness is palpable.
I remember. The struggle to keep singing in the land where captives remained captive. Hearts closed to the One and Only.
