I’ve always liked the number 13. I guess that began with my being born on January 13th, but there have been lots of other conspicuous examples of times where the 13th of something, whether it be a date or number 13 in a series, has brought me luck. I know for many people the number 13 is bad luck, however. And for some Christians 13 is considered bad because Judas was the 13th guest at the last supper. I see that as a good thing, though.
For the Salvation plan to work out, someone had to betray Jesus so that he could die for us. All things and people work for and according to God’s bigger plan and vision… even death. In the Corona Age people are too preoccupied with death. I don’t understand Christians being afraid to die. We say we believe in God and know that eternal paradise is waiting for us when we die, so why are we avoiding death like the plague?(weird word play intended) So, I’ll leave you with a passage from my first book, Night and Day in Alabama, to further illustrate my confusion about the world’s fear of the inevitable.
“I saw a news story once about a little girl who had survived a tornado. He mother, her father, her brothers and her sisters were all killed, and her home was destroyed. She had several broken bones and a ruptured spleen and she was in extreme pain. At the end of the story one of the news anchors sighed and said, and this still gets me today, ‘at least she’s alive.’ ‘At least she’s alive!’ Everything she knew and loved is gone, and that’s the silver lining – ‘at least she’s alive.’ ‘Sorry about your extreme pain and unbelievable loss little girl, but hey, look on the bright side – it could have been worse. You could have died!'”
Thank you for reading my 13th blog.