Saturday, March 26
The Life and Challenges of a Long-Ago Christian, Part 4
For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. —Romans 14:7
Markos
An Island 62-63 AD
I woke up with my face in the sand. Dazed, I sat up and looked around. I was on a beach, the sea stretching in front of me, a grassy hillside with a few trees behind me. “Where am I?” I wondered. “How did I get here?” Then I remembered the storm, the ship tossed on the waves like a cork, being thrown into the water, grabbing at a floating barrel. I said a long prayer of thanks for the miracle that had saved my life. I stood up and began to examine my surroundings. There were a few pieces of wreckage from the ship on the beach and the unbroken barrel. It was full of the hardtack we ate on shipboard. “At least I won’t starve,” I thought. And I dragged it up past the tide line for a quick meal. I spent the next few days exploring. I was on an island. There was no trace of people living there and few signs of wildlife. I found fresh water to drink and berries to eat with the bread. I settled in for a lonely life.
At first, I was happy enough. I had plenty to think about. I remembered Brother Andrew and how much I had learned from him. I thought of how much more I needed to learn. But I wanted to work with people, too. I wanted someone to talk to. As time went by, my spirits sank. I became more and more depressed. I wondered, “Is this life worth living?”
One morning I woke up feeling sick. I didn’t have the strength to get up. I grew weaker by the day until at last I could do no more than whisper softly to myself, “My faith is my shield.”
When the cares of life seem too much to bear, Lord, and we feel too weak to go on, your words and your presence give me hope and lift my spirits. Amen.
Guy Johnson