the small things

Today, after several meetings and several hours working at the computer, I walked out into the bold, Southern sun. What a joy to see Spring leap so decidedly and quickly. There is no hesitation about it.

Tonight I sat with eight of the most wonderful sixth grade girls in all of Austin. We read the account of Jesus' death, burial, and resurrection. My, what minds they have! I danced inside, as David did, as I listened to their wisdom and insight. Prince Myshkin (from Dostoevsky's "The Idiot") is deeply convinced that much is lost when children are not invited into the conversation and I wholeheartedly agree!

"Why did the people choose the killer Barabbas instead of Jesus who was perfect," they asked. The group pondered and decided that the crowd was jealous, suspicious, and misunderstanding of who Jesus was.

Hmm. It's foolish to not see the similarities today. Those who are positively convinced that Jesus is a farce, Christianity a crutch. We have missed the message; we have misunderstood what is salvation. At exactly no cost we are offered grace, provision, and LIFE.

What a story to tell!

And the small things, like the hope in these 11-year-old eyes, are more than amazing.