I love driving into town. No sooner do I pull out of 2837 onto the highway, when the dialogue starts.
I usually pray out loud in the car, and while He never answers out loud, yet He speaks...
* * * * * * *
This morning I opened my Bible to Psalm 5. And my mind went back to yesterday, halfway home.
“Your Grace, disobedience of the slightest sort is high treason against the Crown.
And we are traitors. Deserving of death.
I do not remotely understand You.
I mean, I get it... But I cannot fathom.
I just can’t.
Normally, if mercy is strong enough to commute the death sentence for treason, it certainly does not restore the traitor to trust.
But time and time again, You pick your little ones up from the dirt, and trust...
Risk.
Again.
Multitude of mercies...
How long can You keep trusting traitors?”
The last question was rhetorical. But after a moment of silence, He saw fit to answer in a still, small voice with the distinct tones of a smile--
Until My blood runs out. And that, my boy, won’t happen any time soon.
“But as for me, I will come into thy house in the
multitude of thy mercy, and in thy fear
will I worship toward thy holy temple.” Psalm 5:7
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