But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. -Luke 24:29, NIV
And, in the process, we’d withdraw into that little box we prepared for ourselves in that little corner of our hearts. We’d leave the market and we had no other choice but to cry on the inside, where nobody but God would see us.
See us, He did.
He could’ve used our help. We deserted Him when we saw the lashes. We ran when He carried that hate-mongered Lebanese cider cross around town. That old widow asked us, “Did you know that guy?”. And what did we respond? Say it… Say it… I’m waiting for you… “Hell, NO!”
We deserve to be burn alone in the fiery annals of the pits of Hell.
But then, this man was walking. He asked what happened. We explained. He looked at us with shock and awe—shock and awe. We didn’t spare details- you tried to, I couldn’t. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. We were quite. He stared at us, his eyes burning red with the purest of fires. He asked, “Is everything all right?”
I didn’t say a word.
But as I saw him go farther and farther, I realized the sun behind him was starting to die. He couldn’t walk alone at night! There are wolves, spiders, snakes, scorpions in the desert that silently wait for the first fool to cross them! I couldn’t leave him alone, not with the horrible chain of events that happened all throughout this week! I’m sorry, but I couldn’t be so cold-hearted!
I ran. I ran for my life. I ran for his life! The sun raced against me, so I ran even harder. But I couldn’t let him go!
And when I finally caught along the fringe of his robe, it burst from the inside: