Drawn to the Flame: A Soul’s Encounter with the Master

Journal Entry 5-24-25

From the moment I saw him, I was drawn. I could not resist him. I stepped over his disciples already at his feet. I needed to be in the front, as close to the Master as I could be.

Who was this Jesus?

He was a lamp's flame, I a moth. We were meant to be.

I scuttled closer, grateful not to be relegated to a women's section. I am not allowed this close to a regular rabbi in the synagogue.

His words, though quiet and gentle, went through me like thunder in a storm.

Food I received from other rabbis had never been this good, this juicy. His teaching fed my soul and quenched my thirst.

In my mind, he was mine and I was his, for eternity.

"Tell her to help me," my sister, Martha, insisted to Jesus.

I snapped out of my spiritual daze, overwhelmed with guilt and shame for not serving and cooking in the kitchen. I turned towards Lazarus and we looked at each other with surprise.

But Jesus took care of my guilt and shame.

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken from her."

I released a breath I did not know I held. Jesus gave me words from eternity, and I intended to hold on to them.

(Tomorrow: Service, stilllness or can it be both?)