From the Lips of Lazarus . . .
It’s been more than thirty years since I met Him. The day He first entered our home is etched in my mind forever. I shall never forswear those memories.
My sisters, Mary and Martha, are no longer with us. Neither is my father, Simon, whom Jesus healed of leprosy.
Most of the Teacher’s close disciples, all of whom I had the privilege of knowing, have rendered their lives for His Name’s sake.
A number of them committed to the written page their own encounters with Him. Words that I’ve read and consider to be God-breathed. Since I am not sure how much longer I have left on this earth, I wish to leave behind the story of the times Jesus came to my hometown, Bethany, and of all the people He forever changed while He was here.
The One who lived before the earth existed spent only thirty three years on the planet. And God gave me the unique honor of sharing some of those years with Him.
I did not know it at the time, but the Galilean prophet was rejected everywhere He went. When I discovered this, the irony dawned on me.[Continue Reading…]