Those I met along The Way

I didn’t set out to create a Divine narrative.
I was just trying to survive.

But Scripture kept showing up.
Not as verses to memorize
as people to meet.

They met me on the road like old friends who’d been watching from the trees.
Here are just some of the teachers I met on the way back to myself:

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Samson — The Sacred Secret

He came when I was talking too much.
I thought I was being open – transparent.

Samson didn’t say much, just looked at me and said,
“Stop choosing the gully ones. Keep your strength sacred. And take this donkey’s jawbone…just in case. I got a fresh one especially for you.”

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Gideon — The Remnant

Gideon caught me when I was trying to rally everyone.
“Too many,” he said. “You only need the ones who don’t kneel for their water.”

I started watching for posture.
Not performance.
Not platforms.

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Lazarus — The Delay

This one took years.

I sought the rebirth.
Buried in my tomb.
Prayed for the life to come back to me.

But He waited.

Four days (years in my case).

Long enough for me to learn what death was.
Long enough for everyone to think it was over.
Long enough for me to appreciate the life returned.

And then, He came.
He Wept
And called me out by name.

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David — The Deliverance

David was a warrior, yes, and he taught me
the meaning of Courage of Conviction.
But when I met him, he was humming.

He showed me how to play psalms in caves.
He told me, “If you don’t have a sword, bring a song.”

I did.
And even the demons backed off.

David also taught me to carry five smooth stones and not to fear giants. Not because I was mighty, but because the Lord is.

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Solomon — The Wisdom

Solomon asked for wisdom.
Like Solomon, I too asked for wisdom.
But when I met Solomon, he didn’t tell me it was – “Meaningless! Meaningless!”.
He handed me a poem.

It was the Song of Songs and it kept me present.
When I didn’t feel like shining, he held up a mirror,
“Dark am I, yet lovely,
    daughters of Jerusalem,
dark like the tents of Kedar,
    like the tent curtains of Solomon.
Do not stare at me because I am dark,
    because I am darkened by the sun.
My mother’s sons were angry with me
    and made me take care of the vineyards;
    my own vineyard I had to neglect.“

-Song of Songs Chapter One Verses 5-6

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Nicodemus – The Seed

Nicodemus came quietly.
Because my earliest memories of the name didn’t come from the Bible,
It was Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, the book I learned to read from.
The seed of everything I’ve learned since.

So Nicodemus didn’t thunder from the mountaintop,
but in the quiet whisper of a friend:
“To be born again means to return to the seed, the core, the kernel.”

You don’t rebuild on top of the ruins.
You return to the womb.
To the root.
To what you were before you became…you.

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Paul — The Road

Now, Paul is complex.
He taught me the humanity of the Bible.
Paul wasn’t always a Jesus fan.
He was transformed.
Even got a new name.

He was a Roman Pharisee and I am a mathematician educated by Jesuits
I understand the tendency to blur
the line between educating and indoctrinating.

Paul didn’t come to me as a pastor.
He came as a fellow traveler.

When we met he asked me, “Where did you see Him?
Damascus? Jerusalem? Macedonia?”

I said,
“Macedonia?… no, but close.
I was in Cleveland.”

Paul said, “I heard that nothing good comes from Cleveland.”

I simply replied, “Come and see.”

He smiled.

And in that moment,
I knew that the road of Acts didn’t end in the Bible –
it continues in us.

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So yes, I know the Word.
Because the Word walked beside me.

Not as delusions or illusions, but as allusions.
Allusions to a pattern that can only be felt by the living.
And every story became a stepping stone on the road back to Life.

If you’re reading this and wondering whether these stories are still alive,
they are. Because I met them. And they met me.

You don’t need credentials.
Just eyes that see and ears that hear.

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