As I walked into the Apartment Building yesterday, carrying my mail, two ladies standing in front of the wall of mailboxes met me; we all seemed to want to be in the same spot.
They are knocking on the door of the lady who lives directly across from the mailboxes, in fact when I am delivering mail, no one can get by.
So, the two ladies flank the door and my back is to the door as it opens answering their knock. The woman says, “oh it is you,” to me, and then she sees the other ladies.
As I delivered mail, they delivered Jehovah’s message.
It had occurred to me earlier that morning that people can get lost behind the words, that words can become a mask or face to hide behind, that you then become the words.
Words.
I wondered if these ladies could separate themselves from Jehovah’s words.
If you dropped the words of Jehovah where would they go?
Who are they behind this whitewall of words?
Would they not just be two nice ladies visiting?
I left so grateful that I have no message to deliver, no one to save and no one I had to convince to follow me. And I can just be a kind smiling lady delivering, but not expecting anything in return.
