Until All Hear, "Follow ye me"

I like to think that I'd like to see
A man, a man, a man who is me,
that does some work, so valiantly.
But I'm afraid that I cannot see
Any kind of fruit bore by my tree.
"No fruit at all," I think despairingly.

But here's the truth, I hope you agree
Things are happening that I cannot see.
Mountains are moving, and so are the seas
The earth is shaking and wobbly
Bonds are loosed and captives set free
Because of the work that is done by me.

Call me vain, it won't hurt my glee.
Call me blind, but I know I can see
That the Mover, the Shaker, the Worshipee,
The Looser, the Maker, the King of Kings
Is doing the work behind the scenes-
Not us who are likened to naught but a flea
But Him who eternally loves thou and thee

Hunting down the one

Most of us has heard the story of the Prodigal Son. A young man takes his inheritance BEFORE his father is dead, runs off to the city and blows all his money, living recklessly. Poor and homeless, and longing to eat what the pigs were eating, he mustered up the courage and withdrew his pride enough to return home to his father. When he does, of course, the father is stricken with glee, rejoices, and puts on a feast for his son who once was lost but now is found. Likewise, our Father in heaven rejoices over any person who was dead but now is alive, who was lost and now is found.

Before this story lay two related stories. The lost sheep, where Jesus explains that if you have a hundred sheep and one goes astray, you leave the 99 to find the lost one; and the lost coin, where Jesus explains that if a woman who only has ten coins loses one of them, she searches and searches until she finds the lost coin. Each of these stories conclude with rejoicing.

My additional thought is this: maybe Jesus isn't only saying that each individual person is allowed to choose, as I've always thought, but that 99 coins isn't a whole number. 100 is. 99 sheep isn't a whole number. 100 is. The people of God aren't a whole people without you, or you, or you. Each story ends in rejoicing. Each person's coming into the arms of God is grounds for reckless celebration!

Peace to all of you who read this, all three of you,
James Lowell

PS: Don't forget about the real, everlasting celebration that is nigh on the horizon! 

If you haven't seen me in a while, this is more or less what I look like. (The tissue box is there because I had a cold, not because I'm because I'm a hyper-emotional person)