Little one. Growing in the dark confines of the womb.
Moving, turning, kicking, squirming.
And, one day, fighting the push through the birth canal.
Born into a bright new world.
Little one. Growing in the dark confines of the womb.
Moving, turning, kicking, squirming.
And, one day, fighting the push through the birth canal.
Born into a bright new world.
Resurrection Day 2011. In Delhi, India. We gathered with a body of believers from different nations and people groups.
We came to Christ out of a variety of religions and cultural traditions and family backgrounds. Some repented and believed as children. Others turned and followed Him in adulthood.
Each one’s testimony detailing a unique journey to salvation.
On that Resurrection Day we worshiped together as one, in Spirit and in truth. Brothers and sisters in the Lord.
“Christ the Lord is risen!”
“He is risen indeed!”
The next morning I retrieved and dusted off The Times of India newspaper that landed everyday on the balcony of our second-floor flat. I opened it to the front page. And a striking headline.
In 2018 we travel across the Atlantic to spend a week with our daughter in Dakar, Senegal. Conversations and laughter mark our visit. Along with bright sun. Cool ocean breezes. Blue sky.
And a Door of No Return.