Last weekend, Kerry asked me to help her carry a chair
outside. This was not an unusual
request. People ask me why I have a
truck, and I quickly tell them it’s because my wife loves chairs. The particular chair we were moving was
upstairs, so I waited beside it for a few minutes. Kerry didn’t come, so my stubborn impatience
led me to pick it up and bring it downstairs by myself. Bad idea.
I got it down, but by the hardest.
And I asked myself, “What is wrong with me? Why can’t I ask for help and be willing to
wait and receive it?”
With that
in mind, I sought counsel from the Scriptures.
I remembered this story of the centurion, so I spent the week studying
it. Why did the centurion reach out to
Jesus for help? How long did he wait to
receive it? Why didn’t he just take the
slave to Jesus?
May the Lord be with you!
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