Though I write with the voice of an angel, and have not love, I am become as a forgotten word in a dying language.
And though I have the gift of enchanting language, and can unravel all mysteries, and absorb all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could change the world by sharing my ideas, and have not love, I am nothing.
And though I give a portion of my royalties to feed the poor, and though I put my reputation on the line for the Truth, and have not love, it profits me nothing.
Love suffers rejection, and is faithful. Love doesn’t envy the success of others. Love isn’t prideful about accomplishments. Love isn’t puffed up.
Love isn’t self-focused, doesn’t seek favor, is not oversensitive to criticism, is not easily threatened.
Love rejoices at the success of others. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails: but where there be prophetic writings, they will fail; Where there be inspired messages, they will cease; where there be magnificent stories, they will vanish away.
For we understand in part, and we write in part. But when perfection arrives, then my scraps of writing will be washed away.
When I was a child, I wrote as a child, I understood as a child, I reasoned as a child; but when I became an adult, I put away childish things.
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I am known in part, but then I will be known fully.
And now I must write faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Saturday, November 2, 2019
I Corinthians 13 for Writers
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Sunday, May 28, 2017
A Conversation with Jesus

Do you ever wonder what it was like to talk to Jesus one-on-one? In John 4 we have details of
His conversation with a Samaritan woman. He asked her for a drink, and her
response was to put up the guard of the cultural barrier between them. “Jews have no
dealings with me.” Most likely she said this while looking at the ground
between them.
He said, “If you knew who you
were talking to, you’d ask me for a drink, and I would have offered you living
water.”
She was skeptical. She asked,
“Are you greater than my ancestor Jacob who built this well?”
He said, “Whoever drinks from
this well will get thirsty again. I can give you everlasting life.”
He asked for her husband, knowing
she didn’t have one, deliberately treating her with a dignity some would say
she didn’t deserve. That led to discussing her marriage status. She lived with
a man who wasn’t her husband, and she had had five husbands before that.
Jesus acknowledged the entirety
of her past, but He didn’t berate her for it.
He saw the grief of a broken
heart.
He saw her wounded spirit.
He saw self-esteem in
shambles.
He told her, “If you knew who
I was, and what I could give you, you
would ask me for water.”
He talked to her in monumental
terms of the ancient promises and world-changing prophesies about to be
fulfilled.
She resonated with those words
because she believed the Messiah was coming to reveal these things. She was
perceptive enough to know that Jesus was important, but she couldn’t fathom
that the Messiah was already close enough to touch.
Can you imagine her shock when
He said, “That’s me.”
HE was the Messiah.
He didn’t elaborate on the gravity of her sins.
He simply offered her
everlasting life.
In few words, He offered freedom
from emotional bondage
He offered healing for her
brokenness.
He offered fulfilment for her
all her needs.
He made her a promise.
He gave her hope.
The next thing we know, this outcast
sinner woman was running around town telling everyone, “Come see a man who told
me all the things I ever did.”
Was she excited to tell
everyone about her heartbreak? Her brokenness? Her sin?
No. She was excited because someone
offered her unconditional love and eternal life. After just one conversation
with Jesus, she was no longer ashamed of who she was. She wanted everyone to
know about this gift of hope.

I can only speculate, but I would
like to think that this lady in return gave her life as an offering to Jesus.
I’m sure she was devastated at His crucifixion, and elated at His resurrection.
I hope she was in the upper room for the first outpouring of the Spirit. Or
maybe she was in the crowd when they asked Peter, “What should we do to be
saved?” Either way, she had a story unlike any other. Her life changed on an
ordinary day, in an ordinary place, after just one conversation with
Jesus.
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