James Rush Manley – Writer

Voices? Peter, mostly asleep, weighed the value of looking. Only the four of them climbed up here. So, who were these new voices, these different voices? Curiosity defeated slumber, one lid lifted a slit. Blinding light pierced. He snapped fully awake, up on feet, then down to knees. Intense radiance—painful yet enthralling—drew him to … to … Jesus? Yes! Unmistakably him, but Someone else, too. Who was this Being, shining and glorious, known but terrifying and unimaginable even though seen? The man proclaiming Jesus as the Christ eight days earlier truly saw His Lord for the first time. read more ...

The crowd swelled, clamoring to glimpse the lame man dance. A thousand eyes followed every exuberant leap—arms thrown high, hands splayed wide. Whooping shameless joy, the beggar skipped circles around Peter and John. Peter asked the gawkers, “Men of Israel, why does this surprise you? Why do you stare at us as if by our own power or godliness, we had made this man walk?”

So, what surprises us about God’s power? That it exists? That it works? No, we admitted some time ago that His power exceeds ours. We preach about it moving in our lives. We talk about it working on Earth. We tell its stories to kids. More adventurous souls even pray to receive a generous glop to energize a calling. read more ...

We North Americans stand, single file, patiently waiting our turn. No service for number two until the cashier finishes number one. Makes sense to us, but others call such passive delay stupid. Why wait when pushing gets faster service? We point out, correctly, that God set up an orderly creation. Effects require causes, consequences need actions, future grows only from past. No cutting in line; nothing may come before Him. We know that if we seek Him first, He’ll add everything like vine feeding branch. read more ...

At first the breeze over the stern refreshed, so without command they all raised and stowed oars. The sail snapped once and filled as Peter tightened the line, shaping the canvas belly. The water swished a quiet song to accompany the evening’s last sun. Each man settled back into his favorite place, glad for respite from labor and heat. Jesus curled up on the aft bench and quickly fell asleep.

Later that night, the wave leapt from the dark, smashed into the starboard bow, and spun the boat halfway around to the left. Wind howled in concert, ripping away one corner of the sail; the rest flapped useless in sudden gale. Shouts punctuated awakened hands grasping for oar, rope, and tiller. Control almost regained, the wind shifted, and the boat lurched over onto its left side. Even larger waves converged from fore and aft, lifted the drenched craft high between them, then dropped it down a nearly vertical face. The bow plunged deep, barely surfacing just as another wave hit from the left. read more ...

“Maybe, I picked a bad time to start a fight, after all.” Jonathan peered through a gap between boulders at the Philistine outpost atop the cliff high above. After his attack days ago, the enemy retaliated with vengeance. His father’s army fled. Thousands deserted. The remnant army trembled in caves and crags. “I really thought this would go differently.”

“What can we do?” his armor-bearer asked. “No one in our army has a single spear or sword except you and the King.” read more ...