Susan LaffertyDesert city sojourn.
And I wade in the book of Isaiah. Meditating on the prophet’s words. For months.
Soaking in these passages that sound familiar. Close to home.
Scripture speaks true. Pointing out rebellion.
And revealing His compassion.
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.
We cross Bourbon Street to the beat. Jazz filters out of various establishments down the lane and around the corners.
Colorful lights and tunes draw us into the restaurant. Our party of six is ushered up narrow wooden steps to one of several dining rooms on the second floor.
Derrick the waiter greets us. And proceeds to describe the night’s special offerings in smooth, rapid New Orleans speech. We catch some of what he says, guessing at the rest. And look at the extensive menu of Cajun and Creole dishes.
After unhurried perusal, we order.