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Jesus wept

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I'm sharing this journal entry from one of our sheep / shepherds for your encouragement and invite you to share your stories to keep us connected David

Thursday April 2, 2020: A journal entry:

JESUS WEPT.

A Morning mist of low cloud wrapped soft around the hills.

I read John 6 and tried to ponder on Jesus the living bread. But the mist beckoned and drew me outside, quickly enfolding me in its clammy embrace.

There was no pausing to choose direction. I headed straight up the hill blanketed in the foggy stillness, only birdcall echoing the inner certainty – she’s coming to pray.

Pray up the hill. I haven’t prayed up there for a while. I’ve prayed. But not there on God’s hill, my place of retreat.

At the summit, as cloud drifted and lifted, it was my heart that rained out its anguished plea, the cry for help with COVID19: LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER. Help us Jesus.

That was it. No wordy waffle. I perched on the rim of the damp bench, poised in grief and need; heart, mind and spirit turned to God, “Yet still do I praise you Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Living God.”

A lull then settled over me, like a mute button had been pressed to hush the turmoil of my distressed thoughts and wretched emotions concerning the plight of the world’s people.                   Wait. Be quiet!

Jesus wept. The words from last Sunday’s reading came to mind loud and clear.

33 When Jesus saw her crying, and the Judaeans who had come with her crying, he was deeply stirred in his spirit, and very troubled. 34 ‘Where have you laid him?’ he asked. ‘Master,’ they said, ‘come and see.’ 35 Jesus burst into tears. (John 11:33-35 NTE)

I too burst into tears, and as I wept, there at the top of the hill, I knew he was weeping with me. Weeping with all the world. Weeping for us all.

Turn to me. And I, turning, vision all awash, could see clearly, he was there.                                                                                                                Feed my sheep. To this I shook my head, and thought, I’m no pastor.                                            You are a minister of my word. Therefore, speak my word to others. Speak my word to one another. And suddenly understanding dawned. “You aren’t just saying this to me, are you? It’s your call to all of us: Feed your sheep. The responsibility is ours collectively.” And I pictured the scattered sheep, isolated from one another but belonging together and needing creative new ways of being church and speaking grace and hope to one another and others.

I plunged, then, down the hill, not following the worn paths but winding down the steeper slope, weaving through knee high weeds, around rocky mounds and patches of slippery flattened grass, to emerge at the wider base track.

Now is the time to forge new paths. Jesus is still the Way, the “base track” of my faith remains the same. It’s the network of familiar paths that represent how we have lived out our faith, that have fallen away, not God’s word or his kingdom, or his love.

I am thankful for this love that comes to us where we are: scattered sheep weeping in the mist of uncertainty. I’m thankful that Jesus wept and that his way isn’t set in stone. That he comes and calls us to discover a new and living way, today and tomorrow and the next day. Hallelujah! This is a new day! And the Jesus who weeps with us in our distress will renew us and lead us on beyond COVID19.

JESUS WEPT.

The autumn sun filtered a pale ray through the drifting grey.  A reminder that the God who weeps, also sheds light as well as tears.

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Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

Please, my lord, give her the living baby! Don’t kill him! (1 Kings 3:26b)

Read 1 Kings 3:16–28

I vividly remember this story in my Sunday school book, which featured a picture of King Solomon poised to cut a sleeping baby in half with a sword. I was horrified by the risk he took: ‘What if the wrong woman won the day, and the baby was cut in two?’

It’s true that Solomon takes a risk, but it is a calculated one – and it shows that the wisdom he’d asked God for is indeed surging through his veins. This wisdom is more than intellectual; it also demonstrates deep discernment of the human heart.

By ordering that the baby be divided between the two women, he exposes the true mother’s love. Her willingness to surrender her claim – the most precious relationship she could have – to save her child’s life shows the self-sacrificing nature of real love. The real mother would rather lose her son to another than see him harmed. The imposter mother, on the other hand, agrees to the division, caring more for justice as she claims, than for the child’s wellbeing.

This story points to the remarkable wisdom Solomon received from God: wisdom to see beyond appearances and recognise the heart’s true motives. But it also reveals something profound about the nature of love. True love is not possessive, nor does it seek its own way at any cost. Genuine love puts the wellbeing of the other first, even when it means great personal loss.

If we need an example of what that sort of love looks like, we need only gaze a little while at the cross.

Heavenly Father, thank you for all you gave up in exchange for my life. Help me to reflect that sort of selfless love today in my interactions with everyone I meet. Help me to put the needs of others before my own, not counting the cost. Amen.

Linda Macqueen retired in September 2025, having served 26 years as editor of The Lutheran and Communications Manager for the LCANZ. She has rapidly adapted to retirement, happily and energetically bringing her long-neglected home and garden back to life. She lives in the beautiful Adelaide Hills with her husband, Mark, and with their household’s lord and master, Nelson the rescued galah.

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Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

So give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong … (1 Kings 3:9).

Read 1 Kings 3:1–15

Imagine for a moment that God appears before you and says, ‘Ask me to give you whatever you want.’ What springs immediately to mind? Would you ask for your problems at work or in your family to go away, or healing for a loved one, or financial security, or perhaps peace in the world?

In today’s reading, God invites Solomon, a young and inexperienced king, to ask for anything he wants. First, let’s look at what Solomon does not ask for. He does not ask for the death or demise of his enemies (‘Give me a safe and stress-free life’). He does not ask God to cover Adonijah head to toe in agonising boils that never heal (‘Give me justice’). He does not ask for wealth and prestige (‘Give me power and security’).

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We often come to God with our lists of wants and needs. There’s nothing wrong with asking God for help in all areas of life; however, Solomon’s story invites us to examine our motivations. Are we asking for things that serve only ourselves, or are we seeking what will enable us to grow our spiritual muscles and to love God and our neighbour more fully?

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Linda Macqueen retired in September 2025, having served 26 years as editor of The Lutheran and Communications Manager for the LCANZ. She has rapidly adapted to retirement, happily and energetically bringing her long-neglected home and garden back to life. She lives in the beautiful Adelaide Hills with her husband, Mark, and with their household’s lord and master, Nelson the rescued galah.

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Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

So be strong, act like a man, and observe what the Lord your God requires (1 Kings 2:2b,3a).

Read 1 Kings 1:32–2:4

Authority gets bad reviews these days. That’s probably because we so often see people using their authority for selfish – even evil – purposes. But authority, used the way God intended, is a blessing. Properly exercised, authority creates order and security, promotes justice and frees people to thrive.

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With Solomon, we are called to stand firm and trust in the One who holds ultimate authority. When we recognise Christ’s authority in our lives, our courage is kindled, and fear is sent packing. May we walk confidently, knowing that he is for us, his word is final, and his kingdom will stand forever.

Dear Jesus, forgive me for forgetting that you have authority over everything in heaven and on earth, over powers and dominions, even death. I bring to you my fears and anxieties and lay them at your feet. Just say the word and banish them from my heart and mind today. Amen.

Linda Macqueen retired in September 2025, having served 26 years as editor of The Lutheran and Communications Manager for the LCANZ. She has rapidly adapted to retirement, happily and energetically bringing her long-neglected home and garden back to life. She lives in the beautiful Adelaide Hills with her husband, Mark, and with their household’s lord and master, Nelson the rescued galah.

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