A wonderful fellow blogger wrote me a note the other day after my Super Bowl post. Evidently I am not the only one imagining Jesus showing up for halftime. Her words were: I have often arranged moments in my mind that I wished Jesus would appear – like at the State of the Union Address right after the President came in…or what about just coming into a classroom on Sunday morning?
Please enlighten yourself by visiting her blog at: http://anutsnotes.wordpress.com.
YES, I can see it now. The yelling of the crowd only to be silenced by a huge white horse bursting through the side doors of the stadium. The horse, glistening, carrying the Savior on his back, runs like the wind leaving many a mouth wide opened in shock….
In the halls of Congress, all are gathered to hear his voice. His beginning words are shattered as the doors fly open. Everyone turns around and the gavel falls as Jesus steps into the room. And you are frozen; you can’t move wondering if he knows what you did last night…
The entourage arrives in Charlotte. Streets are shut down. Businesses have closed. Police and Secret Service Agents line the area like bees on a honeycomb. Inside, delegates, admirers and people of all walks of life jumping up and down in excitement. All of a sudden there is a loud boom! It breaks the sound barrier. His white horse appears on stage. It is not what anyone expected. And they all fall down in repentance….
Candidates, one by one enter through the side door. The in-fighting is over. Tampa Bay in Florida has never had so many visitors. Finally, a nominee steps out from behind the curtain but it is not Mitt Romney. The white horse rears back on his hind legs as the Rider’s sword shows forth his strength. And you could hear a pin drop….as the droves of onlookers slowly fall….
The Red Carpet lines the street. Camera flashes blind your eyes. Million dollar dresses, suits and jewels stroll inside to find seats splashed with their names on them. Host Ellen DeGeneres speaks and the crowd roars with laughter. Then, she is held speechless. The light was so bright at the back door she couldn’t see. Humbly he shares a smile. Movie directors, TV stars, Bill Maher, Jon Stewart and Michael Moore are the first to fall.
The country of Ethiopia is one of the poorest nations in the world. 82 million inhabitants of this country are located in this area of the Horn of Africa and is one of 3 of the world’s major Abrahamic religions.
In a small church with dirt floors, the heat is unbearable. No windows or fans, the congregation ignores the sweat rolling down their rugged faces as they sing and praise God. Their shoeless feet and torn clothing resemble the poverty they endure and yet they thank God for all they have. Waking each day to a world of hopelessness, their hearts are warmed by the embrace of God’s love.
Smiles and laughter fill the room while the Pastor stands behind a make-believe pulpit. There is no piano, organ or drums. Just a choir of angelic beings singing A cappella to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
Frazzled Bibles are held as if holding a block of gold. The few in existence are ripped and lacking pages, but treated with nothing but respect. Educated congregants read to those who aren’t. Flowing words of wisdom and knowledge add to music revealing their connected souls.
Stopping to pray, the chapel is filled with the wind of the Holy Spirit, blowing as if bringing a much-needed visitor.
Quietly, and humbly, a man in a white cloak, sandals on his feet, long hair and beard, appears out of no where at the only door to the church.
He says nothing. But the followers immediately know his presence; they have felt it so many times before. Without looking back, they know he has arrived.
Before he even makes a move to the front, the congregation is on their knees thanking God he has finally sent the King. As he strolls by the broken pews, and run down chairs, he spreads his hands amongst the crowd and says, “It is finished.”
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