Philip Yancey tells the story of early missionary to Burma, Adoniram Judson:
Judson was force-marched barefoot for eight miles to prison, where each night the guards
passed a bamboo pole between his heavily shackled legs and hoisted the lower part of his
body high off the ground. Blood rushed to his head, preventing sleep and causing fierce
cramps in his shoulders and back. Clouds of mosquitoes feasted on the raw flesh of his
feet and legs. Treatment like this went on for almost two years, and Judson managed to
“And immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.” (v. 52b)
Good morning whoever is out there.
I hope you boys and girls are here this morning. Since I can't see you, let me know if you are actually present. (have the children touch and/or speak and/or sing) (Humor works, like have the children repeat something silly like, “Good morning fantastic, awesome, most highest lord pastor/teacher”)
I remember going to a Lent group years ago, where the priest gave all us lay folk a piece of paper and a pen and asked us to write down what we knew about Jesus. He didn't want us to write down what we'd been told about Jesus or read about Jesus, but simply what we knew for ourselves from our own experience.
I ended up with a blank sheet of paper, but one person wrote, "I know that Jesus saves me." That led onto an interesting discussion along the lines of: saves you from something? Or for something?