Susan LaffertyLight falls. Through the archway. Across timeworn stones.
We sit in cool shade. Island breeze, soft. The old city, silent.
Footsteps echo in narrow passageways. Against ancient walls. In Malta.
Climbing uneven steps, we look out across a valley. Small villages scattered here and there. White houses. Flat roofs.
These stretch out to a defined edge. On the Mediterranean Sea.
“Everything you have commanded us we will do, and everywhere you send us we will go” (Joshua 1:16).
No half-hearted maybes. Balking at the unknowns. Questions about personal safety.
No calculating anticipated losses.
Everything and everywhere.
No turning back.
Everyday conversations. On the road. In the store. Are my words seasoned with salt?
Flavored with the gospel? Purified with truth?
Salt caught my attention when we were living in a dry and thirsty land. On the way to the beach, we passed white fields of sea salt.
Harvested from the Arabian Sea.
