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 season and out, His servants speak. Of living hope.
And hope breathes. The bright air of the Kingdom making its way in. Countering air heavy with lies of the enemy.
The spoken gospel speaks. Moves. Reveals the power of God to make alive what is dead.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…” (1 Peter 1:3).