“How is it possible to hold such anger against something you don't believe in?”
“Jesus has given me eternal life in Him. Let them take my life here, but God holds me in the palm of His hand and no one can take Him from me.”
“Tell me everything about this woman you once knew. Tell me everything she ever told you about Jesus of Nazareth."
Marcus saw the fever in his eyes. "Why?" he said, frowning. "Why does it matter?"
"Just tell me, Marcus Lucianus Valerian. Tell me everything. From the beginning. Let me decide for myself what matters."
And so Marcus did as he was asked. He gave in to his deep need to speak of Hadassah. And all the while he talked of her, he failed to see the irony in what he was doing. For as he told the story of a simple Judean slave girl, Marcus Lucianus Valerian, a Roman who didn't believe in anything, proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ.”
“We all wanted what we wanted, and when the Lord fulfilled HIS purpose rather than ours, we struck out against him. In anger. In disappointment. Yet, it is God's will that prevails.”
“For as he told the story of a simple Judean slave girl. Marcus Lucianus Valerian, a Roman who didn't believe in anything, proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ.”
“Were you there?”
She shook her head. “No. I was here in Nain having a
child.”
“Then why do you weep as though you had part in his
crucifixion? You had no part in it.”
“I’d like nothing better than to think I would have
remained faithful. But if those closest to him—his
disciples, his own brothers—turned away, who am I to
think I’m better than they and would have done
differently? No, Marcus. We all wanted what we
wanted, and when the Lord fulfilled his purpose rather
than ours, we struck out against him. Like you. In anger.
Like you. In disappointment. Yet, it is God’s will that
prevails.”
He looked away. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“I know you don’t. I see it in your face, Marcus. You
don’t want to see. You’ve hardened your heart against
him.” She started to walk again.
“As should all who value their lives,” he said, thinking of
Hadassah’s death.
“It is God who has driven you here.”
He gave a derisive laugh. “I came here of my own
accord and for my own purposes.”
“Did you?” Marcus’ face became stony.
Deborah pressed on. “We were all created incomplete
and will find no rest until we satisfy the deepest hunger
and thirst within us. You’ve tried to satisfy it in your own
way. I see that in your eyes, too, as I’ve seen it in so
many others. And yet, though you deny it with your last
breath, your soul yearns for God, Marcus Lucianus
Valerian.”
Her words angered him. “Gods aside, Rome shows
the world that life is what man makes of it.”
“If that’s so, what are you making of yours?”
“I own a fleet of ships, as well as emporiums and
houses. I have wealth.” Yet, even as he told her, he
knew it all meant nothing. His father had come to that
realization just before he died. Vanity. It was all vanity.
Meaningless. Empty.
Old Deborah paused on the pathway. “Rome points the
way to wealth and pleasure, power and knowledge. But
Rome remains hungry. Just as you are hungry now.
Search all you will for retribution or meaning to your life,
but until you find God, you live in vain.”
“Only later during her prayers had it come to her how cunning Satan could be. Her love for Marcus could become a tool against her, for when her heart and mind were on Marcus, Julia lay forgotten.
Nothing must distract her from her mission here. And no one.”
“Leaving the group, he reclined on a couch, drank morosely, and watched people. He noticed the games they played with one another. They put on masks of civility, all while spewing their venom.”
“What does the body matter if the soul is dead?”
“Regret drives us to repentance, and repentance leads us to God.”
“Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty that depends on fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should be known for the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God. 1 PETER 3:3-4”
“I'd rather see your honest pain than a brave front.”
“Past and future were out of her hands. One was finished and couldn't be undone. The other was beyond imagining.”
“Search all you will for retribution or meaning to your life, but until you find God, you live in vain.”
“She only had this moment, and she must fulfill it worthily. Of what use was it to allow herself regret and grief, to ponder endlessly what she might have done differently?”
“Dwelling on the past only defeated her chances for changing the future.”
“Life is like a pond, and every decision and act we commit, good or bad, is a pebble flung into it. The ripples spread in widening circles.”
“The appeal was so often the same: Make me comfortable so I can go on doing whatever I want to do. They wanted sin without consequences.”
“None of them, not even he, seemed to realize they weren't just physical beings, that God had left a mark upon them by the simple fact of his creation. They preferred their idols, tangible, possessing, capricious characteristics like themselves, easily understood. They wanted something they could manipulate. God was inconceivable, intangible, incomprehensible, unexploitable.”
“Who are you to say whether she is of use? She is alive! That is statement enough.”
“Better to have trouble with man than trouble with God.”
“She has not one particle of vanity in her. She covers her scars because they disturb others. No other reason than that. People see the mark of the lion on her. They fail to see what it means.”
“Julia was blind and deaf to to the truth. She was ignorant. Did one reprove a blind woman for inability to see? Did one become angry with the deaf for not hearing?”
“something about giving himself over to a woman was worse than having lunch with the devil...”
“The brain is an organ of aggression, and there are many roads to this Rome of imagined conquests — so many that mental disorders, regardless of their particulars, often result in a derangement of our aggressive drive. Schizophrenics stand on the streetcorner screaming obscenely at passersby; depressives lie in their beds screaming mutely at themselves. Our gentle aggressions, the drive to be, prods us out of bed in the morning and draws us toward each other. And in each other we find what our aggressive brain desires: love. As we are wired for aggression, so we are wired to love. We are a lavishly loving species, aggressively sentimental. We are tirelessly in pursuit of fresh targets for our love. We love our children so long that they come to despise us for it. We love friends, books... We love answers. We love yesterday and next year. We love gods, for a god is there when all else fails, and God can keep all conduits of love alive — erotic, maternal, paternal, euphoric, infantile.”
“To kiss and to kill are similar words to eyes that focus with difficulty.”
“Say that we’re moving at the speed of light.… Impossible, of course, if you believe physicists. Which I don’t, by the way. Physicists don’t believe in wizards—a fact that I, being a wizard, find highly insulting. I have taken my revenge, therefore, by refusing to believe in physicists. What was the question?”
“The longing for order is at the same time a longing for death, because life is an incessant disruption of order.”
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