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Have you ever wondered what is would be like to hang around Jesus back in the day?
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MyLordIsMyLife
Loving my Heavenly Family
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Thanks for reading but that's not what Yeshua means...later on in the story she finds out the full meaning of those words. I don't believe anyone can save Yeshua...He alone does the saving.I see your ishhaw is saving ishi
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Hurrah! You read it without me even telling you a new entry was on the board. That makes me feel just grrrrrreat!
Would you mind sharing what you liked about it? Authors always crave feed back.
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Glad you likey. ah...how to descrbe His majesty.oh what majesty...
ya all...since I have your attention I'll post part 3 tonight.
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L
Lyndie
Guest
I really enjoy how you can use words to set the emotions in your writing. Not many can do that. I like the last part the best. To actually sit and hear Jesus reading or teaching, I would have loved to been there.
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Thanks hun! I appreciate that! If you ever have any criticism please feel free to share that as well. Hey I would be right there sitting next to you!
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Here's part 3 of Entry 8 and the conclusion...
I forgot the disciples. I forgot about his mother. I forgot myself. Only Yeshua, he filled my vision. He must be saved! I clawed and beat my way through the crowd. Grabbing the robe of one man, I pleaded for the Master's life, but the man pried my fingers away and threw me to the ground. People rushed pass me as they drove Yeshua toward the cliff a short distance away from the synagogue. I struggled to run after the Master but I couldn't rise. My feet, my legs, my hands, my robe and my hair were covered with mud. Through the driving rain I watched in fear as the men brought Yeshua to the very edge of the cliff. I watched incredulously the utter helplessness of Yeshua. I had witnessed his power. I had seen him heal every kid of disease and deformity with a word. I saw demons tremble in his presence as my own demons had been cast from me. I thought, “He is the Messiah! This cannot be happening!” I had only known him less than a year’s time and he would be taken away from me so abruptly. Not my Yeshi!
"Stop! Stop!" I begged.
Still they pressed him, ready to force him over the cliff. The crowd covered him like vultures hungry for the prey. Visions of Yeshua's body mangled on the jagged rocks below haunted my mind. "Adonai, save him!" I shut my eyes, shaking with terror. I could not look. I could not breathe.
Suddenly, the chorus of hate filled voices ceased as though washed away by the summer rain. My heart was beyond feeling and no longer existed. I was certain the silence meant the deed had been accomplished and Yeshua was dead. I myself died a thousand deaths. My beloved was gone!
I dared one last look towards the place where Yeshua had been standing. Tears stood still in my eyes. To my amazement I found the crowd staring in hushed awe parted like the red sea. As Moses rod had opened the red sea so Yeshua appeared to be the instrument that had been used to divide this sea of humanity. Again he was the warrior, his jaw set with determination. The crowd had been overcome by the steadfast gaze of his innocence.
He walked through the midst of the crowd with a slight limp. No one raised a hand or uttered a word. Jochannan, Jacov and Mattijah followed behind him. His mother came to my side and gently assisted me to my feet. Many faces looked at us in dismay and wonder as we followed after Yeshua. Yeshua never looked back.
To be continued...
I turned around, and seeing Miriam standing between Leah and Sarah I smiled at her as with one voice everyone in the congregation responded, "Amen!"
My whole body had become tense until the moment Yeshua kissed the scroll again, rolled it up and handed it back to the rabbi. He had fulfilled his mission. He had come and read from the prophet's. At last he truly was home in his beloved Nazareth. Soon, we would be able to return to his mother's house and share another meal together. Friends and neighbors would stop by. On the following day Yeshua would give Miriam the loom he had been preparing.
I let go of the grid through which I had been watching the Master and sighed, convinced that all my worries about harm coming to him had been for naught.
"This day this scripture is fulfilled!" Yeshua spoke again, loud enough for all to hear. His voice came like a clap of thunder and a sword slicing through the peaceful air of our gathering. Eyes opened. Mouths hung agape. He had proclaimed the sacred words to be uttered only by the great Messiah!
How suddenly he had changed! Straight and tall he stood more a warrior than the Prince of peace. His fiery gaze swept the congregation.
“Doubtless you will quote me the proverb, 'physician heal yourself'" He told the stunned congregants.
"No Yeshua! Please don’t!" I wanted to cry, "Say no more! These people will not understand you!"
And as quickly as his appearance had changed, just as suddenly a profound grief captured his face. "A prophet is without honor in his own land." He added sadly.
Then the whispers started.
"Who does he think he is?"
"Only the Messiah can say such a thing."
"I've heard about the miracles he performed in Capernaum..."
"What? Are we not good enough for him? No miracles for us?"
"He'll do no miracles here. They are all tricks!"
"We know him!"
"We know better, He can't fool us.
The whisper's quickly turned to shouts.
"We know you Yeshua! You're just a carpenter!"
'Blasphemy!"
'Why do you stand by? He should be stoned to death!"
Everywhere men leapt out of their seats and rushed toward the platform where Yeshua stood alone and defenseless. Their talith's disguarded on seats, on the floor, arms flailing, a multitude of dark heads and beards, flashing teeth surrounded Yeshi. Together the men lay hold of him and dragged him down the steps while the elder rabbi of the synagogue tried to stop them.
"No! No!" I shouted horrified. I wanted to run after Yeshua but the women also were trying to escape our room. They crushed me against the grid so that I could not move. I watched helplessly as the men pushed the Master down the aisle.
'Hurry! Hurry!" Other women around me urged. "Let us see what is happening!"
"Surely they are going to stone him!"
At last I was able to escape and push may way towards Yeshua's mother. She grabbed hold of me. Her eyes were large with fear. "Miriam!" she pleaded. "Help me to get to my son. This must not happen! My poor Yeshi!"
Leah and Sarah had forsaken her, and it was I who helped to make our way through the crowd. My body was weak and in pain from being pushed so long against the grid and Miriam was overwhelmed with grief.
'He does not deserve to live!" I recognized the voice. It was Jacov, Yeshua's brother. I could not believe he could be so heartless as to call for his own brother's death!
Suddenly, Yeshua was in sight. My heart broke. The men held him fast, several of them, much taller and larger than he, stood pressing him from behind. He robe soaked through by the rain, was torn. His face bruised. Blood trickled from his mouth. His hair hung dripping wet clinging to his forehead and cheeks. Water ran from his beard. I knew my Master could have struck them down with one word of his power but he looked at his tormentors with pity as a wise rabbi would pity his ignorant disciples. He winced in pain when one of the men twisted his arm behind his back and asked with glaring hatred, "What shall we do with this blasphemer?"
"Stop this!"
Jochannan along with Jacov and Mattitjah had made their way through the crowd.
"Leave him alone!"
"Have you not pity." Mattitjah shouted. "His mother stands among you."
"Why do you want to protect a blasphemer?" pressed Judah, another one of Yeshua's brother's. "You are no son of Israel and neither is Yeshua. Have you no knowledge of the Torah and what the holy writ states concerning blasphemy?”
Soon a great chant rose up from the crowd, "Stone him! Stone him!" Even some of the women joined in the calls for Yeshua's death. Among them were his sisters. I watched and heard everything as though I were in a dream. How could this be happening to my beloved Master?
Someone screamed, "Throw him over the cliff!" Again they rushed on Yeshua.
I forgot the disciples. I forgot about his mother. I forgot myself. Only Yeshua, he filled my vision. He must be saved! I clawed and beat my way through the crowd. Grabbing the robe of one man, I pleaded for the Master's life, but the man pried my fingers away and threw me to the ground. People rushed pass me as they drove Yeshua toward the cliff a short distance away from the synagogue. I struggled to run after the Master but I couldn't rise. My feet, my legs, my hands, my robe and my hair were covered with mud. Through the driving rain I watched in fear as the men brought Yeshua to the very edge of the cliff. I watched incredulously the utter helplessness of Yeshua. I had witnessed his power. I had seen him heal every kid of disease and deformity with a word. I saw demons tremble in his presence as my own demons had been cast from me. I thought, “He is the Messiah! This cannot be happening!” I had only known him less than a year’s time and he would be taken away from me so abruptly. Not my Yeshi!
"Stop! Stop!" I begged.
Still they pressed him, ready to force him over the cliff. The crowd covered him like vultures hungry for the prey. Visions of Yeshua's body mangled on the jagged rocks below haunted my mind. "Adonai, save him!" I shut my eyes, shaking with terror. I could not look. I could not breathe.
Suddenly, the chorus of hate filled voices ceased as though washed away by the summer rain. My heart was beyond feeling and no longer existed. I was certain the silence meant the deed had been accomplished and Yeshua was dead. I myself died a thousand deaths. My beloved was gone!
I dared one last look towards the place where Yeshua had been standing. Tears stood still in my eyes. To my amazement I found the crowd staring in hushed awe parted like the red sea. As Moses rod had opened the red sea so Yeshua appeared to be the instrument that had been used to divide this sea of humanity. Again he was the warrior, his jaw set with determination. The crowd had been overcome by the steadfast gaze of his innocence.
He walked through the midst of the crowd with a slight limp. No one raised a hand or uttered a word. Jochannan, Jacov and Mattijah followed behind him. His mother came to my side and gently assisted me to my feet. Many faces looked at us in dismay and wonder as we followed after Yeshua. Yeshua never looked back.
To be continued...
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MyLordIsMyLife
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thinking of all that our Beautiful One suffered for us...and still He is not recognized as LORD...oh Yeshua, oh Jesus, help us and forgive us. Make us all Your lovers.
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stormdancer0
Do not be so open-minded that your brain falls out
Every time I get discouraged, I hear Jesus whisper, "I know. I understand. I've been there."
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Amylisa
Yeshua's love is my life
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Yesterday I was upset about a bunch of things...didn't know what to pray even....
He showed me to go sit with Him. Once I got myself quiet, I heard Him say, almost in a whisper,
"I Am."
Just those 2 words cleared up everything for me and took away my anxiety. I could tell He smiled as He said it.
He showed me to go sit with Him. Once I got myself quiet, I heard Him say, almost in a whisper,
"I Am."
Just those 2 words cleared up everything for me and took away my anxiety. I could tell He smiled as He said it.
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Stormie and AmyLisa,
This is why I love to dwell on the humanity of Christ, write stories about what it was like to "be Jesus" as a Man, paint Him etc. because it helps to think about what you shared. He does understand! I have always been moved by the scripture, "He learned obedience through the things He suffered."
I think that some Christians believe that Jesus' life (except for the Passion,) was sort of a cake walk, like He walked ten feet off the ground. I have even heard some say that when He was tempted it wasn't as hard on Him because "He was the Son of God." like God had this special protection on Him. When He was in the Garden of Gethsemane and His sorrow was almost enough to kill Him and He sweat blood where was that "special protection."
Don't get me started!
This is why I love to dwell on the humanity of Christ, write stories about what it was like to "be Jesus" as a Man, paint Him etc. because it helps to think about what you shared. He does understand! I have always been moved by the scripture, "He learned obedience through the things He suffered."
I think that some Christians believe that Jesus' life (except for the Passion,) was sort of a cake walk, like He walked ten feet off the ground. I have even heard some say that when He was tempted it wasn't as hard on Him because "He was the Son of God." like God had this special protection on Him. When He was in the Garden of Gethsemane and His sorrow was almost enough to kill Him and He sweat blood where was that "special protection."
Don't get me started!
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stormdancer0
Do not be so open-minded that your brain falls out
Just think of the temptations He faced.
The temptation to:
Marry, love a woman, have children
Give His beloved mother beautiful clothes and a nice home
Raise His earthly father back from the grave
Rescue John the Baptist
Just once, let His glory shine and scare the *@$&# out of the arrogant Pharisees (Okay, that one would be me!!)
To "teleport" to where He needed to go instead of walking
To never go hungry
To reveal to the crowd the sins of the men who dragged Mary Magdeline out to stone her.
So many things He would have been tempted to do. But He heard and obeyed the Father.
What else do you thing He would have been tempted with?
The temptation to:
Marry, love a woman, have children
Give His beloved mother beautiful clothes and a nice home
Raise His earthly father back from the grave
Rescue John the Baptist
Just once, let His glory shine and scare the *@$&# out of the arrogant Pharisees (Okay, that one would be me!!)
To "teleport" to where He needed to go instead of walking
To never go hungry
To reveal to the crowd the sins of the men who dragged Mary Magdeline out to stone her.
So many things He would have been tempted to do. But He heard and obeyed the Father.
What else do you thing He would have been tempted with?
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That's a very good list Stormie.
He probably wanted to start healing people and doing miracles much earlier than He did, maybe by curing His friends and neighbors.
Tempted by Peter's "friendly advice" to forsake the cross and His mission.
Tempted on cold nights to make a creative miracle, extra blankets and a comfy bed.
Tempted to blunt the edge of the whip studded with glass and bone,
The thorns on His crown,
The spikes by which He was nailed to the cross.
Tempted to end Roman oppression, especially when the Romans burned the city of Sephoris when He was in His early twenties.
I'm thinking...
He probably wanted to start healing people and doing miracles much earlier than He did, maybe by curing His friends and neighbors.
Tempted by Peter's "friendly advice" to forsake the cross and His mission.
Tempted on cold nights to make a creative miracle, extra blankets and a comfy bed.
Tempted to blunt the edge of the whip studded with glass and bone,
The thorns on His crown,
The spikes by which He was nailed to the cross.
Tempted to end Roman oppression, especially when the Romans burned the city of Sephoris when He was in His early twenties.
I'm thinking...
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MyLordIsMyLife
Loving my Heavenly Family
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Thanks Jon for being there with me!
Always, dear sis.
Hail to Jesus, forever our Beautiful One!
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You are good friend Jon. Love your praise of Jesus! Will post some more story later tonight.
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MyLordIsMyLife
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Entry 9
Part 1
The Magdalene Journal
After the Sabbath
Evening
We had all fallen asleep early that evening. Having left Nazareth without provisions, no food, drink, blankets, extra clothing, we were chilled to the bone, tired, pained in both body and spirit. The Zebedee sons found wood and dried leaves on the floor of the cave that sheltered us and Mattijah made a fire. Each one kept to themselves. Yeshua was silent, absorbed in his own thoughts. He sat crossed legged, near the fire, holding his hands toward the flame. The bruises and cuts on his face shown vividly in the fire light as well as the patches of mud on his torn robe.
Lying on the floor of the cave I was uncertain as to what Yeshua needed right then and there. Was it the comfort of being alone with his thoughts that would soothe his wounded heart? I wept into the crook of my arm helplessly imploring Adonai on his behalf. In my weariness I heard the breathing of the others and Miriam too breathed deeply. I heard another sound, the sound of weeping, soft and gentle, like a child forsaken. Yeshua was weeping. Whether it was Adonai who inspired me or my own natural love for him that caused me to seek him out in the darkness of the cave, I do not know. These two loves seem inseparable at times. I saw Yeshua, still sitting by the fire. The dying flames bore witness to the silent tears flowing down his cheeks. I knelt before him.
"Master" I whispered.
Yeshua looked at me and shook his head sadly. His eyes were two stars shining in the night.
"Oh Miriam!" He cried softly, "My poor Miriam!"
A thin smile trembled on his lips and a glistening tear dropped into the darkness. "Look at you."
He reached out his hand and touched my hair. "What has become of your beautiful hair? And your robe."
He had forgotten himself and was thinking only of me. "You are so cold." His shoulders shook with emotion and his lips tightened as new tears dripped from his eyes. He took hold of my hand rubbing it between his own trying to create warmth.
"Come close to the fire."
I tried to keep from trembling but my robe was damp and clinging.
"It is no good." Yeshua said with a disappointed sigh. "And I have no cloak with which to cover you." The master glanced around at the others sleeping. "There is only one thing to do Miriam." He laid down near the fire. "You need to rest." He held out his arms. "Come." He whispered.
I stood rubbing my arms. "Let me go to your mother." I offered. Truthfully I marveled that he would shield me in such a manner.
Yeshua shook his head, "But she is sleeping. She is exhausted. You'll waken her. She needs rest."
Again he held out his arms. "Come. It is alright. Don't be afraid." His eyes held a sympathetic plea, compassionate and inviting in the fire light.
I came to him, kneeling at his feet, trusting myself to his innocence. "I will sleep at you feet Master, the same as Ruth slept at the feet of Boaz until it was morning." I prepared myself to lie at his feet.
Yeshua sat up. "Miriam, I have no cloak that I may extend the boarder over you." He observed. "You shall not be at my feet but on my bosom."
Trembling, daring to believe I could come so close to the Messiah, the Holy one, I placed myself in Yeshua's embrace. He lay down behind me and enfolded me in his arms. I have been held by many men but never so tenderly.
"There now," I heard him whisper. "You are safe now Isha."
Feeling him so close to me, his breath on my cheek, his dark ringlets gracing my face, I wanted nothing more then to turn and face him and cover him with kisses. How simple it would be for me to give myself in the dark of the cave to this sweet dream of loving! Even as I suffered in my love for him Yeshua said softly, "Remember my mission, my beloved."
I nodded through my tears and kissed his hand. He understood my longings. I knew his love was the purest of all. Again my selfish love died, impaled on the spear of self abandonment. I speak the truth. My spirit felt peaceful and even more loving with this new death.
That night in the cave was the first experience of being so close to my Master. To him I was a costly treasure and he held me like that, gently as one would hold a precious jewel. No man honored me as Yeshua did. I knew I would be protected and never violated by him. I felt beautiful but in a new and lovely way, like stepping out a refreshing bath and putting on a clean linen robe. Such an embrace I will never forget and the sweetness of his presence.
"Yeshi?" I asked.
"What is it my Mari?" Yeshi answered.
"Are you sad because of what happened in Nazareth today?"
"Yes."
My Master's tears washed over my cheek and his body heaved with emotion.
"I love my brothers and sisters and the people of Nazareth.' Yeshi wept. "I grew up with many of them. I went to synagogue with them, played with them."
"I am so sorry Yeshi." I said gently.
Yeshua stroked my hair and kissed my head. "I am sorry too, for them."
"And you poor Ema..."
"My Ema..."
Yeshua buried his face in the back of my shoulder trying to hush his sobs.
"Will she ever return to Nazareth? And that beautiful loom you made for her, will you give it to her?" I asked.
'Only if it is the will of Adonai." He said brokenly.
I caressed his hand. "Did you know the people of Nazareth would reject you?" I questioned.
"Yes. I did."
I shook my head. "You must love your people very much then Yeshua."
"I love them very much. My Abba told me to return to Nazareth." Yeahua whispered, pressing his lips against my ear.
"Adonai?"
"Yes, of course!"
I smiled. "And you obeyed him?"
"How could I not?" said Yeshua. "He is my heart."
Long moments passed between us. My thoughts drifted. I knew his Abba was surely Yeshua’s heart and this was a beautiful way to describe his love for Adonia but I found myself wondering what my own place was with my Master. Was I in his heart? I reasoned that I was yet I wished I could hear him say the words and what I meant to him but I dared not ask.
I waited with heart pounding.
Yeshua laughed softly. "Yes Isha. You are in my heart. Am I in yours?"
He surprised me with his response to my silent questioning. I squeezed his arms surrounding me and cried in a hushed voice, "Yes! Yes! Yes!” Then the words just tumbled out of my mouth. “Oh that you were my brother! I would kiss you and no one would despise me!" I quoted the verse from the song of Solomon.
He didn’t scorn me or rebuke me. He received my words as worship. "Isha." Yeshua cooed in a low voice. "My own..."
Weary, helpless and longing, I leaned my head back against his breast, snuggling into the cradle of Yeshua's body and closed my eyes while he stoked my hair. "Sleep my sister."
Yeshua's breath became slow and peaceful. He was sleeping. He was comforted at last.
During the night he stirred. I awakened with him.
"I am thirsty." He said with a yawn and a stretch of his arms. "You must be thirsty also Miriam. Let's see if we can find a way to drink some rain water." He offered his hand and we crept past the sleeping disciples and the mother, toward the entrance of the cave.
To be continued...
Part 1
The Magdalene Journal
After the Sabbath
Evening
We had all fallen asleep early that evening. Having left Nazareth without provisions, no food, drink, blankets, extra clothing, we were chilled to the bone, tired, pained in both body and spirit. The Zebedee sons found wood and dried leaves on the floor of the cave that sheltered us and Mattijah made a fire. Each one kept to themselves. Yeshua was silent, absorbed in his own thoughts. He sat crossed legged, near the fire, holding his hands toward the flame. The bruises and cuts on his face shown vividly in the fire light as well as the patches of mud on his torn robe.
Lying on the floor of the cave I was uncertain as to what Yeshua needed right then and there. Was it the comfort of being alone with his thoughts that would soothe his wounded heart? I wept into the crook of my arm helplessly imploring Adonai on his behalf. In my weariness I heard the breathing of the others and Miriam too breathed deeply. I heard another sound, the sound of weeping, soft and gentle, like a child forsaken. Yeshua was weeping. Whether it was Adonai who inspired me or my own natural love for him that caused me to seek him out in the darkness of the cave, I do not know. These two loves seem inseparable at times. I saw Yeshua, still sitting by the fire. The dying flames bore witness to the silent tears flowing down his cheeks. I knelt before him.
"Master" I whispered.
Yeshua looked at me and shook his head sadly. His eyes were two stars shining in the night.
"Oh Miriam!" He cried softly, "My poor Miriam!"
A thin smile trembled on his lips and a glistening tear dropped into the darkness. "Look at you."
He reached out his hand and touched my hair. "What has become of your beautiful hair? And your robe."
He had forgotten himself and was thinking only of me. "You are so cold." His shoulders shook with emotion and his lips tightened as new tears dripped from his eyes. He took hold of my hand rubbing it between his own trying to create warmth.
"Come close to the fire."
I tried to keep from trembling but my robe was damp and clinging.
"It is no good." Yeshua said with a disappointed sigh. "And I have no cloak with which to cover you." The master glanced around at the others sleeping. "There is only one thing to do Miriam." He laid down near the fire. "You need to rest." He held out his arms. "Come." He whispered.
I stood rubbing my arms. "Let me go to your mother." I offered. Truthfully I marveled that he would shield me in such a manner.
Yeshua shook his head, "But she is sleeping. She is exhausted. You'll waken her. She needs rest."
Again he held out his arms. "Come. It is alright. Don't be afraid." His eyes held a sympathetic plea, compassionate and inviting in the fire light.
I came to him, kneeling at his feet, trusting myself to his innocence. "I will sleep at you feet Master, the same as Ruth slept at the feet of Boaz until it was morning." I prepared myself to lie at his feet.
Yeshua sat up. "Miriam, I have no cloak that I may extend the boarder over you." He observed. "You shall not be at my feet but on my bosom."
Trembling, daring to believe I could come so close to the Messiah, the Holy one, I placed myself in Yeshua's embrace. He lay down behind me and enfolded me in his arms. I have been held by many men but never so tenderly.
"There now," I heard him whisper. "You are safe now Isha."
Feeling him so close to me, his breath on my cheek, his dark ringlets gracing my face, I wanted nothing more then to turn and face him and cover him with kisses. How simple it would be for me to give myself in the dark of the cave to this sweet dream of loving! Even as I suffered in my love for him Yeshua said softly, "Remember my mission, my beloved."
I nodded through my tears and kissed his hand. He understood my longings. I knew his love was the purest of all. Again my selfish love died, impaled on the spear of self abandonment. I speak the truth. My spirit felt peaceful and even more loving with this new death.
That night in the cave was the first experience of being so close to my Master. To him I was a costly treasure and he held me like that, gently as one would hold a precious jewel. No man honored me as Yeshua did. I knew I would be protected and never violated by him. I felt beautiful but in a new and lovely way, like stepping out a refreshing bath and putting on a clean linen robe. Such an embrace I will never forget and the sweetness of his presence.
"Yeshi?" I asked.
"What is it my Mari?" Yeshi answered.
"Are you sad because of what happened in Nazareth today?"
"Yes."
My Master's tears washed over my cheek and his body heaved with emotion.
"I love my brothers and sisters and the people of Nazareth.' Yeshi wept. "I grew up with many of them. I went to synagogue with them, played with them."
"I am so sorry Yeshi." I said gently.
Yeshua stroked my hair and kissed my head. "I am sorry too, for them."
"And you poor Ema..."
"My Ema..."
Yeshua buried his face in the back of my shoulder trying to hush his sobs.
"Will she ever return to Nazareth? And that beautiful loom you made for her, will you give it to her?" I asked.
'Only if it is the will of Adonai." He said brokenly.
I caressed his hand. "Did you know the people of Nazareth would reject you?" I questioned.
"Yes. I did."
I shook my head. "You must love your people very much then Yeshua."
"I love them very much. My Abba told me to return to Nazareth." Yeahua whispered, pressing his lips against my ear.
"Adonai?"
"Yes, of course!"
I smiled. "And you obeyed him?"
"How could I not?" said Yeshua. "He is my heart."
Long moments passed between us. My thoughts drifted. I knew his Abba was surely Yeshua’s heart and this was a beautiful way to describe his love for Adonia but I found myself wondering what my own place was with my Master. Was I in his heart? I reasoned that I was yet I wished I could hear him say the words and what I meant to him but I dared not ask.
I waited with heart pounding.
Yeshua laughed softly. "Yes Isha. You are in my heart. Am I in yours?"
He surprised me with his response to my silent questioning. I squeezed his arms surrounding me and cried in a hushed voice, "Yes! Yes! Yes!” Then the words just tumbled out of my mouth. “Oh that you were my brother! I would kiss you and no one would despise me!" I quoted the verse from the song of Solomon.
He didn’t scorn me or rebuke me. He received my words as worship. "Isha." Yeshua cooed in a low voice. "My own..."
Weary, helpless and longing, I leaned my head back against his breast, snuggling into the cradle of Yeshua's body and closed my eyes while he stoked my hair. "Sleep my sister."
Yeshua's breath became slow and peaceful. He was sleeping. He was comforted at last.
During the night he stirred. I awakened with him.
"I am thirsty." He said with a yawn and a stretch of his arms. "You must be thirsty also Miriam. Let's see if we can find a way to drink some rain water." He offered his hand and we crept past the sleeping disciples and the mother, toward the entrance of the cave.
To be continued...
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