"Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us." Hebrews 12:1
A few weeks ago, I re-read Pastor Wurmbrand's "Christ on the Jewish Road", a collection of his prison meditations. Pastor Wurmbrand was a Lutheran pastor of Jewish origin who spent fourteen years in Communist prisons in Romania before coming to the West after his freedom was purchased for $10,000 by Christians in Norway in 1964. He had not been here long when I met him. I was thinking about him today because Ricoel posted a link to his website, Voice of the Martyrs, on his forum, along with a free offer for "Tortured for Christ". I have all of Pastor Wurmbrand's books, and I re-read them every year or so. He was truly a witness to the faithfulness of God. I can remember hearing him speak at a church in Birmingham, then riding with him and his wife Sabina back to Uncle Joyner and Aunt Nell's, where they were staying the night. We always went to hear these "witnesses" testify--any time we were close enough to go. We heard Pastor Wurmbrand, Corrie ten Boom, Billy Graham. A few times, I've heard people quote that verse in Hebrews as if they thought the writer was saying that there's this cloud of witnesses looking down on us, witnessing our acts. But that's just plain silly and wrong-headed. Those people, with their very lives, have testified to the faithfulness of God. We are compassed about with a great cloud of them.
Speaking of clouds, we have quite a few coming this way, accompanying Hurricane Dennis. Looks like it'll be pretty rough. It was a beautiful day here today, though. We spent most of it outside, knowing it would be the last sunshine we'd have for a while.
Angela called and told me Morgan is at Camp Wesley Pines. (Surely they'll go and get her before Dennis hits?) That brought back a whole bunch of memories that I thought about while I was cutting grass today. I can't remember how many years we went to camp there when we were little, but I do remember the heat, the sunburn, the mosquitoes, the bad cafeteria food. I'd get homesick as soon as we got there, yet I kept going back every single year. Every minute was planned for us: hiking, swimming, volleyball, music, bible study, vespers. One year when Mama had just started letting me shave my legs, I cut myself in the shower. There was blood everywhere and a plug of skin in the razor and I just wanted to go home. The cut hurt the rest of the week and bled every time we played volleyball, stung in the pool, ached at night in that hot mosquito-infested cabin. At music that year, some man played the guitar every night and he liked to sing I Believe in Jesus to the tune of Mac Davis' I Believe in Music: I believe in Jesus, I believe in love. I believe my leg hurt.
One thing Pastor Wurmbrand wrote in Christ on the Jewish Road is that everyone needs to read the Bible and Shakespeare---the bible to understand God and Shakespeare to understand man. I've been reading Shakespeare this week. The comedies are my favorites. My high school English teacher made us read a lot of Dickens and Shakespeare, and very little else. She only let us read one comedy--The Taming of the Shrew.
I didn't take an IQ test yesterday or today. I think maybe the Mensa encounter frightened me a little. It started out as a lark, a summer pastime, a brain-sharpening exercise. But now I think it's become more than that. Now, I have "a good chance" of passing the Mensa test. Should I stop while I have "a good chance" or should I take the test and, well. . . What if it turns out I'm an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing? Out, out, brief candle.
