Just about 3 hours remaining on the FREE promotion for my new ebook. Please check it out. Click on the image below to go to the Amazon book page. And thank you.
FREE Book, but time is running out
The ebook version of my new novel is still FREE on Amazon, but only about 8 hours more.
The free promotion ends at midnight tonight (Pacific Standard Time, USA).
Please get your free copy, while you can. And I hope you really enjoy it. Click on the image below to go to the Amazon book page.
By the way, if you’ve been reading the sample chapters I’ve posted, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. More reviews might help draw more people to the book, and therefore, more people might get their free copy. My goal is for as many people as possible to get the book for free. Thank you.
Last Day of FREE ebook Promotion
Today, Tuesday March 24th, is the last day to get the ebook version of We Called Him Yeshua for FREE.
The free promotion expires at midnight, Pacific Standard Time (USA), according to Amazon. So please take advantage of this and get your copy now. Clicking on the image below will take you to the Amazon book page. And for those of you who will look inside this book, thank you very much. My sincere hope is that in addition to entertaining you, that it helps you in some way.
Day 2 of FREE ebook Promotion
Only today and tomorrow left to get this ebook for FREE. If you want to take advantage of this, and I sincerely hope you do, you can get the FREE ebook on Amazon. Just click on the image below to go to the Amazon book page.
Get the book now, while it’s FREE
My new novel, We Called Him Yeshua, went live on Amazon earlier today. The ebook is currently FREE, yet only until midnight, March 24th. So please grab a copy while it’s free. I’ll be publishing the paperback within the upcoming week, and that will initially be priced at cost.
Click on the image below to go to the Amazon page. And I hope you really enjoy the book.
Stuck at Home?
Are you stuck at home, like me? Are you bored and looking for something to distract you from what’s going on outside your door? Here’s a book that just might help combat that shelter-in-place, walled-in feeling.
We Called Him Yeshua has just gone live on Amazon, and the ebook is currently FREE, but only until midnight, Tuesday March 24th. In addition to being a good distraction from the world, this novel just might give you some “tools” to help you cope with the tough times.
Go here to check out the book description on the Amazon page.
The paperback is scheduled to be available later this week, initially priced at cost. I’ll post something when that happens.
If by chance you’ve been reading some of the sample chapters I’ve posted leading up to publication, please consider going onto Amazon and leaving a review. I will greatly appreciate your opinion.
And if you’d like to help get the word out about the free ebook, please share this post.
Finally, I sincerely hope you’re healthy and have enough toilet paper.
All the best,
CJ Penn
Author and book web page: www.cjpenn.com
Almost There
The book cover for my novel, We Called Him Yeshua, is finished! And I’m very excited. If all goes as scheduled, the ebook will go live on Amazon starting tomorrow. As soon as Amazon will allow, I’m going to change the ebook price to FREE. The paperback will go live sometime within the next week, I hope. I’m currently waiting for Amazon to ship a proof copy to me.
If you’d like to have a peek before tomorrow, please go to my author website, and check it out. While there, you can also read some sample chapters I’ve posted.
And if you sign up, I’ll send you an email when I’ve confirmed the ebook is FREE on Amazon. I’ll do the same once the paperback is live.
Thanks,
CJ Penn
Escape
Fog oozed into the grove of trees, dripping off the leaves, filling the air with the pungent smell of eucalyptus. Dead skin-like bark littered the ground, making it hard to creep silently through the old cemetery. But creep I did, hiding behind a head stone, looking for my chance.
He lurked out in the open part of the hillside cluster of graves, looking behind each head stone, statue, and crypt, determined to find me, and the others. But, could any of us get away?
My only chance was with the granite statue in the middle of the cemetery, the tallest statue there. That’s where my freedom lay, waiting for me to grab it. I just had to get there without him seeing me. For if he spotted me, I was dead, just another resident of that fog shrouded cemetery.
He was getting closer. My heart raced. I tried not to breathe. Then, a noise, farther up the hill, one of the others most likely. A careless step, that’s all it took. Too bad for them, but it gave me the opening I needed.
He changed course and headed for the noise. I crept to another hiding spot, just a bit closer to the statue. He took a few more steps up the hill. Then, as he stepped behind a crypt, out of sight, I made my move. Running low, from one head stone to the next, I dashed for the statue, stealing glances toward the crypt. Closer. Closer. Then …
“Base!” I yelled, touching the statue and screaming out my freedom. Oh, I loved a good game of hide and seek.
I miss those days, so long ago. Though the Vietnam War was raging, we were oblivious. Our grammar school lives revolved around fun, and we had lots of it. I sometimes wish I could get that feeling back.
Many years later, maybe forty, I saw more meaning in our games of hide and seek. The cemetery was our favorite place, and that same statue was always the base. But then I remembered; it was a statue of Jesus Christ, holding out his hands in a very welcoming gesture. I now see Jesus as my “base,” my source of freedom—freedom from fear, from worry, from anxiety, from depression. And my source of escape from the world—whenever I need a break, he’s there, arms out, welcoming me.
And now a thought for anyone who feels they don’t know Jesus, but currently know too well feelings of anxiety, etc..
Look, there’s a lot of s#*t going on in the world right now. I don’t need to elaborate. But, without sounding like some Bible-thumping evangelist, I encourage you to look for help. And maybe the help you need can’t come from the world. After all, it’s the world and all the s#*t that’s the source of our worries. Please consider looking outside the world.
Maybe Jesus isn’t the kind of help you want. But if you think he might be, and you’d like to learn something about him, please check this out (link to cjpenn.com). Maybe it could be a good place to start.
A “Good” Book for These Times
Yesterday I posted something encouraging people stressed about the COVID-19 virus to check out the novel I will be publishing soon. I truly feel the story in the novel can help people not only escape reality for a bit, but also find some “tools” to help them cope with world-inducing stress. But I was hesitant, because I’m concerned that some might think I’m taking advantage of a worldwide scare to promote my novel.
Look, at times like these, I’m convinced that the absolute best book to help people cope is the Bible. The Bible points us to what we all need to deal with the toughest times of our lives. Yet for some, especially those where Christianity feels foreign, the Bible is more confusing than help. The authors of the Bible often wrote from a spiritual perspective, and the language can be difficult to understand.
The novel I mentioned is all about Jesus Christ, and is based heavily on events recorded in the Gospels. Yet it looks at him from a purely human perspective, a perspective we all can understand. The story focuses mainly on Jesus’ humanity, in addition to his divinity. For this reason, I think the story can help people more easily relate to Jesus, understand him, feel closer to him, and maybe even discover an intimate relationship with him. Also, I believe the story can help motivate those who have never opened a Bible, to take a look for themselves.
Strong Christians already have what they need to cope with stressful times: a solid knowledge of God’s word and an intimate relationship with the Holy Spirit. But what about “weak” Christians, and those who have no idea of who Jesus really is? I care about all of them.
If some want to accuse me of trying to take advantage of the Coronavirus crisis to promote my book … well, that’s the price I’m willingly pay for trying to help people find peace and freedom in their own relationship with Jesus Christ.
The Face of COVID-19
I got to the grocery store this morning a few minutes before they opened. A flock of people were already waiting outside the doors. Once inside, it seemed like a normal sized crowd of shoppers, for late afternoon that is, but not for 6 am. Yet what didn’t seem normal was the look on some people’s faces. I smiled and greeted everyone I passed in the aisles, but only a few responded. Most had that look that seems to be spreading, like the COVID-19 virus that’s spawning the look. People looked frightened as they passed by me, hugging their side of the aisle as if I had leprosy.
Back home, while unpacking groceries, I got to thinking about the novel I’ll be publishing within a week. I think for some people, a novel like this is just what they need. Not only will it distract them from the world around us and take them back to another place and time, but it will show them a side of Jesus Christ they may never have seen before. And that’s my biggest hope for this novel.
Do you feel a need for distraction? Are you interested in getting to know Jesus on a much more intimate level? If so, please follow this link and check out my book. And when it’s published, you’ll be able to get the ebook for FREE.
Finding Help in These Crisis Times
CoronaVirus spreading, stock market crashing—these are just a couple of the headline-grabbers that can make our life feel hellish.
Though most Christians believe that when they die they will go to heaven—none of us is there yet. We’re still inhabitants of earth, though sometimes we may feel more like prisoners. And at times like these, heaven can feel so very far away.
But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. What if we could escape to heaven while still stuck on earth? You can, you always could, and you don’t need to look far. Just look inside yourself, for Jesus promised that’s where we would find his Holy Spirit.
But this can be intimidating, and even scary, simply because you may not really know who you’re looking for. Or, even if you know Jesus, maybe you know him only by his divinity. You know him as the Son of God. That alone can be rather intimidating.
But what if you could know Jesus by his humanity, as the son of man, as he liked to call himself? What might happen to your relationship with Jesus if you really knew his human side? Maybe in seeing more of Jesus’ humanity, you’d be able to feel closer to him. For as someone has said, “It may be hard to feel close to God, but it’s easy to feel close to a person.”
Who said that? It was Anna, one of the characters in my soon-to-be-published novel, We Called Him Yeshua. I wrote this novel because I wanted to know Jesus more intimately. I wanted to feel closer to him. And I felt that a good way to do that would be to ask those who lived with him while he walked the dusty roads of ancient Israel.
We Called Him Yeshua is their story, and the story of their relationships with Jesus. Sure, it’s all just fiction, from my imagination and I hope a lot of inspiration. Yet it’s all based on stories from the Gospels. And maybe it would be worth a minute or two of your time to check it out.
Leading up to the launch of this novel on Amazon, I’ve been posting chapters on my author website. The first third of the book is now there for everyone to read. And it might not take too many of those chapters for you to start to feel Jesus more intimately than you ever have before.
While on my website, please consider signing up to get a FREE Kindle version when the book is published. I’ll also notify you when the paperback will be on sale at cost. I’m currently shooting to publish the Kindle version on March 25th. The paperback will follow about a week later.
And please remember: Jesus sent his Spirit to bring us heaven on earth. But more than that, to live with us, to share our lives, and guide us through the morass of what goes on in this world of crisis.
(Click here to access more information and the sample chapters.)
“We Called Him Yeshua,” Chapter 8
In the weeks leading up to the launch of my novel, We Called Him Yeshua, I’ve been posting the first several chapters. Today I give you chapter 8, and from there you can navigate to earlier chapters if you like. Chapter 8 will get you about a third of the way through the book, and it’s the final chapter I’ll be posting on my website, as the book will soon be released on Amazon.
Amos
– Neri –
“Down, down,” Ben said, tugging on my hair.
“Okay you little dust dervish, here you go.”
As I dropped Ben onto the sandy road, he scurried back to Ruth and Anna, a tiny dust cloud in his wake. He collided into Anna’s legs, wrapped his pudgy arms around them, and squeezed. Anna, nearly falling, grabbed Ruth’s arm and steadied herself. Ben let go and headed for Ruth. But she was too quick for him. She bent down, shot her hands under his arms, and began tickling. Ben fell squirming to the ground, giggling wildly and kicking up even more dust. Ruth dropped to her knees and kept tickling.
I lost my thoughts on the silver star necklace resting within the soft recess at the base of Ruth’s neck. Her neck looked soft as camel cheese and white as goats milk.
A light blue sky hung high above the valley. Trees, bushes, and flowers thrived along the river’s edge. As far downriver as I could see there were red poppies, little yellow flower I didn’t know, date palm trees, and tall grasses—all in radiant color. The lush banks gave way to low grass bordering the road that followed the river. And on the other side of the road, soft meadows gently sloped toward the hills to the west.
The road felt good—it felt like freedom and adventure. I’d missed the feel of the road under my bare feet. Since sandals were for impressing people, and my tough feet didn’t need protecting, I’d tucked my sandals in my tool sack. I took in a slow, deep breath as I scanned the valley around me, and smiled.
Farther down river, as it bent west, buildings slid into view. Clusters of houses huddled between the river and the hills, with a few on the eastern shore. This side of the wall-less village, vegetables and grains sprouted in the fields on both sides of the road. A vineyard nestled on the slopes of the hills, with buds freshly breaking.
I glanced again at Ruth and Anna. Behind them marched a growing band of followers. Some I recognized as those I’d helped in the meadow. I walked faster to catch up to Yeshua.
“You know, Yeshua,” I said as fell into pace beside him, “seeing you heal people is like eating a whole camel—milk, cheese, and all. It’s so filling, so overwhelming, so irresistible. But then I’m empty again, and hungry for more, like I can’t ever get enough.” I looked over my shoulder at the trailing newcomers, “I think they might feel the same way.” Yeshua just smiled, and gazed up into the sky. “How does it feel to have so many people following you?”
“Neri, I welcome everyone, no matter why they come to me. I will never turn them away. But I wish they would follow because of who I am, not because of what I can do for them.” He took in a slow breath. “You know. True friends are those that don’t expect anything from you, those that stay your friend no matter what. But for now, their love for me is conditional—they will love and they will follow as long as I have something to give them.”
Was that why I followed him? For the promise of something more? I felt shame seep into my gut. But I had always strived to be different. And I was determined not to be just another follower.
“Neri, for those following me—if they follow far enough—they will see with their eyes what true love really is.”
“True love?”
Yeshua put his hand on my shoulder and firmly squeezed. “No conditions.”
Looking up, the jackals were at the gate. Where the road entered the village, a pack of brightly colored Pharisees prowled, all staring our way, arms crossed as if trying to bar entry. Like jackals, I felt they were hungry for fresh meat. But there would be no meat for them, not while I was around.
“We Called Him Yeshua,” Chapter 7
In the weeks leading up to the launch of my novel, We Called Him Yeshua, I’ve been posting the first several chapters. Last week I posted chapter 6. Today I give you the seventh chapter, and from there you can navigate to earlier chapters if you like.
Nathan
– Nathan –
Samuel burst through the door, “Nathan, get up!”
“What?” I rubbed my eyes and stretched as the other three shouldered their way in, tripping over each other and crashing in a jumbled heap onto the floor of my bedroom. “Ssshhh. You’ll wake em up,” I whispered, motioning toward my parents’ room. Outside, sunrise was still about an hour away. The rest of the town was sure to be sleeping. Perfect.
Throwing off my blanket, I looked to Jacob, “Got the ropes?”
“Don’t be foolish,” he shot back. “Let’s get going. We don’t have much time.”
Soon we were running up the road toward the center of town. Well, I wasn’t running. My twisted, crippled legs saw to that. I clung to my woven mat, with each of my friends holding a corner as they ran. Zachery and Josiah led the way. Samuel and Jacob, being taller, held the back corners high, allowing me to sit up.
Soft grey light began seeping into the sky. Two tall stone houses flanked the south road where it entered the square—we headed there. Off narrow alleys intersecting the road, outside stairs led to the upper floors and the rooftop terraces.
Samuel quietly climbed the stairs up one house, Jacob the other. Tying the rope to a pillar on the terrace, Samuel then threw it to Jacob, impatiently waiting on top of the other house. With both ends secure, the middle of the rope sagged down between the two houses.
The sky was growing a light blue as Samuel and Jacob came bounding down the stairs, no longer trying to be quiet. Zachery and Josiah sat me on the rope and made sure I held tight. Soon I was swinging as high as the middle of the second floor, my stomach lurching back and forth. As the sun flashed over the horizon, the townspeople woke to crowing. It wasn’t a rooster.
(read the rest of Chapter 7 on my cjpenn.com website)
Copyright CJ Penn, 2020
“We Called Him Yeshua,” Chapter 6
In the weeks leading up to the launch of my novel, We Called Him Yeshua, I’ve been posting the first several chapters. Last week I posted chapter 5. Today I give you the sixth chapter, and from there you can navigate to earlier chapters if you like.
Chapter 6: Ruth
-Ruth-
The morning fog had crept from the lake, slithered through the streets, poured into my hut, and seeped into my bones like poison. Dampness always made the pain worse. I groaned through clenched teeth as I pushed myself out of bed and stood shivering on frozen feet.
“Come on Ruth, unlock the door!” my sister called again, fear rising in her voice. By now, her imagination was probably painting her a picture of my withered corpse. A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. Me dead—if only.
“What?” I yelled, yanking the door open. The effort left me wheezing. I swayed on wobbly legs, nausea creeping up my chest, sweat chilling the back of my neck.
“Finally! Listen Ruth, you remember the man I told you about? The healer? Well he’s on his way to our town and I heard he healed a man of leprosy in the village up north and now he’s on his way here and I’m sure he can heal you so you can finally be healthy again and you won’t feel any more pain and you can leave your house when you want, isn’t that great!”
“Yes. Great.” I marveled less about her words, and more about how my squirrel of a sister could say so much in one breath. “Now. Let me go back to bed.” I tried to close the door.
“No!” She wedged her leg against the door jam, knowing I didn’t have the strength to resist. “You need to go to him, so he can heal you.”
“Okay, I will. After he gets here. Now leave me alone.”
(read the rest of Chapter 6 on my cjpenn.com website)
Copyright CJ Penn, 2020
An Unexpected Power of Prayer
Be prepared for what answered prayer might do to you.
The text came in with bad news that caught us unprepared and threw my wife and me into shock. Later, more texts—the details that dribbled in just made us feel worse. Someone we know. Yet, there did seem to be room for hope. So I prayed. And what felt like a constricting snake in my stomach spent the day slowly rolling. That night, I fell asleep praying.
Next morning, on my knees, pouring my heart out to Jesus, begging, I mean intensely BEGGING him to step into the situation and do something that only He can do. Anything! All morning my heart was trembling. The snake rolled.
Noon, another text. NO! The outcome was certain, no more room for hope. The door had been slammed shut. The wave of shock returned and crashed over us.
We talked. “Just accept it. Stop hoping. It will be a bit easier that way.” Okay. So I let go of hope and started to try to accept the new reality. But no acceptance came. Just despair, and the feeling of the ever-present snake squirming in my stomach.
Later that evening, I puttered in the kitchen, struggling to get my mind to attach itself to something else … and trying to prepare dinner without cutting anything off an unwitting finger. And then another text. Oh crap. What now?
What!? The door was again open? There WAS still room for hope, much hope! The roller coaster started heading back up. But I wasn’t prepared for what came next.
The tremors began in my stomach as I rushed to my wife and we hugged. I quickly went back to turn off the stove so I wouldn’t burn dinner, for I sensed what was coming.
The tremors flowed up my esophagus, through my throat, and into my quivering chin. And then this internal volcanic wave of pure emotion exploded into a stream of tears and blubbering. I had no control. My nose sent a stream into my mustache. My eyes steamed hot with tears. Every muscle within seemed to tremble, every nerve seemed to fire. I felt wrapped in a soft blanket of joy. I clasped my hands over my face and leaned against the wall. I felt like a quivering mass of jelly.
And then the second wave hit—God DID answer the prayers! Jesus loves the people involved so much, that He stepped into the middle of the situation, wrap his arms around them, and did what only He can do! And the tears flowed stronger, and the blubbering grew louder. And my sense of being out of control of my emotions grew more intense. Good, I wanted to give control to God anyway.
To the heavens and any being that was listening, my heart screamed my love and praises for God and Jesus. Yet there was a layer of frustration on top of my joy, for the words of praise just didn’t feel like enough, not coming close to expressing my gratitude.
Since that day, the news has gotten better and the hope has grown more certain. But for someone who’s trying to put my faith into action with words, well, adequate words still won’t come to me. I don’t think there are words to express the magnitude of my gratitude and love for God and Jesus. Oh, how I wish I could.
By the way, I know God doesn’t answer all prayers as we hope He will. That’s not for me to understand right now. And I don’t want to think about unanswered prayers right now. I just want to tell you of one small example of how God’s love for us came alive, and showed itself in action.
I still want to shout out praises to God and Jesus … to the heavens and anyone who will hear me. That’s why I’m writing this now, in my feeble attempt to use written words to try to convey to you the magnitude of my gratitude and love for Jesus, and His love for us. As Paul said:
“And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge.” (Ephesians 3:17-19)
Jesus’ love is so big, we can’t comprehend it. But we can feel it. I have.
Oh, and if you like, please check out my other website, my book website, where you can see something about my soon-to-be-published novel, We Called Him Yeshua. Yes, this novel is mainly about the love of Jesus, as expressed through his humanity while he walked the roads of first century Israel. Now there’s a great example of His love in action.
“We Called Him Yeshua,” Chapter 5
In the weeks leading up to the launch of my novel, We Called Him Yeshua, I’ve been posting the first several chapters. Last week I posted chapter 4. Today I give you the fifth chapter, and from there you can navigate to earlier chapters if you like.
Jairus
-Anna-
“Neri, over here, I’m thirsty,” I tugged on his sleeve and pulled him toward an inn on the edge of the square. Several hours after leaving the village where I found Neri, we arrived at another town … a larger town.
“Good, I’m hungry,” Neri replied.
“Hungry? Again?”
We climbed a few steps to a collection of low tables scattered over a raised terrace. A canopy of different colored fabric provided shade, casting a faded rainbow shadow all around us. We selected a table near the edge of the terrace.
“Hungry Scamper?” Neri said, lifting Ben off his shoulders and dropping him on a cushion.
As I sat down, Ben crawled into my lap and fell asleep. I smiled as I caressed Ben’s soft brown hair, comforted by the idea I’d made the right decision bringing him with me. The town, on the south shore of the lake, was the farthest from home I’d ever been. The distance helped me feel safer.
The innkeeper walked over, knelt on a cushion, rested both hands on our table, and said, “Well?”
“Tea please,” I replied, as Neri gazed at the menu painted on the wall. He had the look of love in his eyes.
“Let’s see … I’ll have a large plate of fried locusts, the fish stew, goat milk cheese, some of the lentil with curry, barley bread, charoset, and Egyptian beer.”
“No charoset,” the innkeeper said, as he stood and left.
“A bit hungry Neri?”
“A little. But, no charoset!”
The crowd below us grew, all straining to see Yeshua as he worked his way toward the center of the square. There must have been hundreds of them. Yeshua was more popular than I’d thought. A strange feeling stirred my stomach and rose in my chest—I think I knew, but refused to admit what it was.
(read the rest of Chapter 5 on my cjpenn.com website–here)
Copyright CJ Penn, 2020
“We Called Him Yeshua,” Chapter 4
In the weeks leading up to the launch of my novel, We Called Him Yeshua, I’ve been posting the first several chapters. Last week I posted chapter 3. Today I give you the fourth chapter, and from there you can navigate to earlier chapters if you like.
Neri
Neri
“Neri, you stink.”
“Oh, you like my perfume? I call it Essence of Pus. A subtle fragrance, yet I see you have a perceptive nose.”
Caleb and I sat at the mouth of the canyon, the walls behind us lined with caves, dug long ago in the limestone. The broad valley spread out below us. There, at the border of the leper colony, we stared at the outside world, off limits to us. Shepherds tended their sheep across the valley, on the other side of the stream weaving down its center.
“Hey Neri, where’s that sister of yours? Anna, right? I bet she smells good.”
I glared at Caleb, uglier than most with that hole in the middle of his face where his nose had once been. Well, at least leprosy had cured him of his nose-picking habit.
“Stay away from her Noseless,” I growled. “Hey, have you thought of an easy way for me to kill myself?”
By the Power the Holy Spirit
“Every minister of the gospel is called to rest content with nothing less than the indwelling life and power of the Holy Spirit. This is to be his only preparation for preaching the gospel in power. Nothing less than having Christ speaking through us in the power of His omnipotence will make us able ministers of the New Testament, bringing salvation to all who hear us.” Andrew Murray
Andrew Murray, an 18th century minister in South Africa, is one of my favorite authors of Christian nonfiction. Over the years, I’ve read lots of his books, along with other similar books by equally great authors, such as A.W. Tozer, William Law, Brother Lawrence, and many more. For some reason, most of my favorite Christian authors are long dead—something they share with the authors of my ultimate favorite book, the Bible.
Anyway, if I were to pursue a theology education with the goal of becoming an ordained minister, I would be sure to include my favorite authors in my studies. But all that reading and effort, though valuable and helpful for me, would not adequately equip me to help others, for I would lack the most important trait for being an effective minister. I think Andrew Murray expressed it far better than I ever could.
Death to the Little Devil Within Me
Often, I feel like my personality is split in two—the good me, and the bad me. I’m like a character in a Saturday morning cartoon, with a little angel on one shoulder encouraging me to do the right thing, and a little devil on the opposite shoulder tempting me to do the wrong thing. Sometimes my little devil screams so loudly I can’t hear anything else.
But this morning I realized something. The little devil part of me is actually dead, having died when all sins died, with Jesus on the cross. When Jesus died, he took with him the sins of the world—those sins died with him. Those sins were the collection of the sinful side of everyone who chooses to believe, the collective of our little devils.
So, the devil that seems to exert power over my words and actions is not actually real, but a phantom, or maybe more like a lingering shadow of the sinful me that once thrived. And that shadow fades the more I let the light of the Spirit of Jesus shine within me.
This morning, for the first time, I see and believe in the image of my little devil as dead, sent to the abyss where Jesus took all our sins. It feels so freeing to say that. I’ve prayed for the death of my sinful self for a long time.
I suspect I’ll backslide, and the phantom shadow will con me into believing it has real power over me. But now I feel armed with the reminder that the little sh*t-disturber is powerless and dead.
Here’s what Jesus and the apostle Paul had to say:
“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.” (Matthew 16:24-25)
“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)
“Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires.” (Galatians 5:24)
“For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin. … In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 6:6, 11)
What do you think about all this?
Oh, and if you’re interested, please check out my soon-to-be-published book, We Called Him Yeshua.
“We Called Him Yeshua,” Chapter 3
In the weeks leading up to the launch of my novel, We Called Him Yeshua, I’ll be posting the first several chapters. Last week I posted chapter 2. Today I give you the third chapter, and from there you can navigate to earlier chapters if you like.
Jared
Jared
“Jared, something must be done about her,” Simon whispered to me as he glared down the table at Anna collapsed at the prophet’s feet.
“What? Who?” Oh, yes … Anna. Something should have been done, though not what Simon had in mind. Poor Anna—I wanted to help her, always had, partly because I knew more about Anna and her past than even her brother knew. But it wouldn’t do for a royal official to show sympathy for a prostitute—yes, I admit, a weak and cruel excuse.
Then there was the prophet, Yeshua. He intrigued me and confused me. As Anna wept at his feet, Yeshua didn’t treat her with lofty disdain, as most religious men would have. Instead, he showed nothing but gentle kindness, and a compassion that seemed to strengthen and empower her. The compassion Yeshua gave Anna made her look nobler to me than any priest.
Leaving Simon’s house before anyone else, I rushed home and to my son’s bed. His breathing had eased a bit, but he still looked as pale as bleached parchment, and the fever remained. My poor Jonathan, my little boy … was dying. I’d seen the symptoms before, in my wife, and I feared there was no way to stop it. Before going to Simon’s dinner, I’d sent my servant Jacob to summon the doctor. But he still hadn’t arrived. My chest tightened, my stomach quaked, and I almost forgot to breathe as I stared helplessly down at my son.
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