I am a Christian, a retired teacher, a mother and a grandmother. I love to read and I love the Lord Jesus Christ! Unless otherwise specified ,all visual illustrations are from the YOU VERSION APP of the Bible.
When I was a young bride and married less than six months, my husband’s ship moved from Virginia to South Carolina. I was under contract to teach in Virginia, so I had to stay there while my new husband moved to South Carolina. About a month after he moved, I got the welcome but unexpected surprise that I was pregnant. So, I was living alone, pregnant for the first time and feeling somewhat lonely. We had a church home in Virginia and the people there were great, encouraging me and helping me when I needed it. The Scripture verse for today is what helped me get through eight months of being separated from Harry.
When I read it in my devotional this morning, I recalled all of the times that Harry was gone and I said this verse, knowing that although I could not see him, Jesus was right there with me, keeping me company and offering comfort when I needed it. The USN could and did separate me from my husband, but nothing could separate me from Jesus! There were many more separations between Harry and me after that because the USN has a tendency to send sailors to sea. I would move to a new place and he would go to sea. I was left alone, with small children, to find friends and a new place in that new world. But I always knew that Jesus was with me and would help me get through another move and more changes. I don’t know what I would have done without knowing that the Lord was right by my side because I am very shy and introverted, so making friends was difficult, but Jesus led me to the right places and the right people, always letting me know that I was accepted already by Him.
Now that I am older, the first part of the verse has deep significance for me. Death cannot separate me from Jesus either! He has been with me for the last fifty plus years and when I die, I get to go be where He went before me, to prepare a place for me. Just as Harry went to South Carolina first and had a home ready for me when I moved (I was nine months pregnant then), Jesus has gone before me to Heaven and has prepared a place for me. He is just waiting for me to join Him when the time is right.
May you have a blessed day, always knowing that Jesus is right there with you and nothing can separate you from Him!
Every day should be a day to enter into the presence of God. But how do we go in? My devotional this morning gave me clear insight and instruction.
It’s very clear that the first thing we should do when entering God’s presence is to be thankful, truly and from the heart. We need to spend time in awareness of who God is, not just all that He has done for us, although that is important, too.
This is the same verse from “The Message” version of the Bible. I don’t usually use that version because it is such a loose translation, but I like this verse because it is so appropriate for the 21st Century. I don’t know about you but I have what seems like hundreds of passwords for different online sites, so many in fact that I have a locked password manager on my device so that if I forget a password, I can look it up again. Or, if I’m using my usual device, the computer itself completes the password for me so that I can enter the site. Isn’t it wonderful that the password for entering into God’s presence is always the same? “Thank you.” Just “thank you.”
May you have a blessed day, filled with thanks and standing firmly in the presence of the Lord.
I have hummingbird feeders just outside my window that I watch daily from my recliner as I read my Bible, pray and then spend time in meditation. They are fiercely devoted to filling themselves with that sweet nectar. May we be equally devoted to God’s Word.
We used to sing this song in one of the churches that we attended. The words have stayed with me through the years. Good to remember how sweet God’s Words should be to our ears, as we crave insight into His character by reading His Word.
The story of Tabitha Steele and Chris Hobbs touched my heart in all of the right places. Tabitha was abandoned by her mother and raised by her foster mom, whom she calls Auntie El. She has never felt wanted or completely accepted or loved and her brief stint in the military where she was sexually harassed did not help matters. Now suffering from PTSD, she has a support dog named Trinity. She is working hard at becoming a survivor. She joins a gym called Semper Fit and meets Hobbs, one of the trainers. The story of their starting and building a relationship is well written, incorporating both of their pasts and the trauma that they both went through. I enjoyed the fast pace and getting to know the characters, all of whom became like friends to me by the end of the book. What I did not enjoy about the book was the description of all of the exercises at the gym which were too detailed and boring for me because I’m not a gym enthusiast. In fact, for some of them, I had no idea what the exercise entailed, but I wasn’t interested enough to look it up online. This is a good romance, with triggers including assault, abuse and alcoholism. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Rated PG due to sensitive topics and triggers in the content. Elysia Whisler is the author of RESCUE YOU and other coming titles in the Dogwood County series. She was raised in Texas, Italy, Alaska, Mississippi, Nebraska, Hawai’i and Virginia, in true military fashion. Her nomadic life made storytelling a compulsion from a young age. Her work as a massage therapist and a CrossFit trainer informs her stories. She lives in Virginia with her family, including her large brood of cat and dog rescues, who vastly outnumber the humans. Author Website:https://www.elysiawhisler.com/Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/ElysiaWhisler/ Twitter:https://twitter.com/ElysiaWhisler Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/elysiawhisler/ Goodreads:https://tinyurl.com/rpukw53
Tabitha’s radar was lit before the woman even entered the store. The way she whipped into the parking space, killed the engine at a crooked angle and jangled the bell over the shop door like it was being throttled. Tabitha had just taken a bite of the Really Big Cookie—a birthday indulgence bought at the community college cafeteria—when the woman marched right up to the front counter and, without so much as hello, slapped down some pictures. “My father’s old Harley has been sitting in the barn for decades,” she declared, out of breath. “And I’m determined to get it going.”
Tabitha closed up her Journal of Invincibility—I am not afraid; I was born to do this. ~Joan of Arc—and tucked it behind the counter, like a mother protecting her young. The woman went on for a bit, while Tabitha tried to chew and swallow her treat. When she was done ranting, she stood there in silence. Eventually, she shook her head. “Don’t you know anything about motorcycles?” Big-breasted, big-hipped, big personality, big, brassy red hair, the customer rested her elbow on the counter and leaned against it, settling in.
“Not much, no.” A hunk of cookie fell from Tabitha’s lips and landed on the front of her Triple M Classics employee T-shirt. She hastily brushed it away and gestured to the shelves that lined the rear of the shop. “I just ring up the merchandise. Keep tabs on the floor when the mechanics are in the back.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, but that just prompted images from school this morning, which she didn’t want in her head. Still, with her eyes closed, Tabitha sensed that this wasn’t really about the motorcycle. The woman was upset, possibly grieving. The motorcycle meant something to her and she wanted quick answers because she was searching for a way to ease her pain. Tabitha opened her eyes again, looked past the woman and settled her gaze on Trinity, the little black rescue pit bull who always made her feel better.
“Then get the mechanic. Or, better yet, get the owner. Where’s Delaney Monroe?”
“She’s on an errand.” Tabitha kept her gaze on Trinity, who lay near the stairs that led to Delaney’s apartment. She was catching some zees in the dog bed intended for Delaney’s dog, Wyatt. For about the third time that day Tabitha thought, What am I doing here? I’m not cut out for this.
“Delaney Monroe is who I came to see,” the woman pressed. “I heard she’s an expert on classic bikes. If you work in a bike shop, you should know about bikes. I don’t have time for this.” She straightened up and planted her hands on her hips.
“Delaney’s out. Maybe I can help.”
Tabitha turned to the sound of Nora’s raspy voice.
“I’m Nora. One of the mechanics.” Delaney’s mom had come out of the back room, wiping grease from her fingers with a shop rag. She had a cigarette tucked behind her ear, right where her temples were starting to gray. The rest of her hair was silky black and tied back in a ponytail. Nora was a small woman with a slight build, but the way she carried herself, she might as well have been six feet tall. She wore blue jeans and the same Triple M Classics T-shirt and she locked her fearless, almond-shaped eyes into the irritated gaze of the customer. “Whatcha got?” She nodded at the photographs.
The woman pushed them across the countertop. “This has been in my father’s barn for ages. He recently passed and I’m not sure if it’s worth fixing up.”
Nora went silent while she leafed through the pictures. “An old Harley Panhead,” she murmured. “Sweet. Do you know the year? Looks like a ’49.”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
Tabitha felt a shift in the air as the woman’s demeanor changed, her anger melting away, relief softening her shoulders and her scrunched-up mouth. Crisis averted.
“The window on a Panhead is only ’48 to ’65. The emblem on the gas tank in this shot tells me it’s a ’49.” Nora tapped the top photo with her grease-stained finger.
The woman stuck out her hand, a huge grin on her face. “Nelly Washington. Nice to meet you.”
“Nora.” Nora glanced at Nelly’s hand but didn’t touch her. “My girl owns this place.”
“I’ve heard good things.”
“Damn straight you heard good things. My girl’s the best.”
Nelly gave off a deep belly laugh and used the humor as an excuse to withdraw her unrequited handshake. “Can she fix it up? Make it run?”
Like a cowgirl walking into a saloon in an old Western, Delaney pushed open the shop door at that moment. The bell jangled as she strode inside, motorcycle boots thunking over the floor, helmet in her gloved hand. Delaney was taller than her mother by several inches, had the same slender build and dark hair, but in a pixie cut. Wyatt, the wandering white pit bull with the brown eye patch, trotted in next to her, still wearing his Doggles. Delaney slipped the eye protection off her motorcycle-riding companion. Wyatt spotted Trinity on his dog bed and raced over to play. He leaned on his front paws, butt in the air, tail wagging, then jumped backward and spun. When that didn’t work, he danced all around her, flipping his head and poking his muzzle in the air. Trinity, unmoved, looked to Tabitha for instruction.
“Break, Trinity,” Tabitha said, and the dogs were soon twining necks like ponies.
Nora waved at her daughter and shrugged at Nelly. “You’ll need to bring the bike in. See what’s up. Is it dry?”
“Been in the shed. Covered up.” Nelly’s gaze went to Delaney as she neared.
“She means did you drain the carburetor and gas tank,” Delaney clarified, settling her helmet on the counter. “Before you stored it.”
“Oh.” Nelly’s face went straight. “I don’t know, actually. My father is the one who stored it. Once his arthritis got too bad for him to ride.”
“That’ll make a difference,” Delaney continued, like she’d been in on the conversation from the beginning. “That, and how straight the bike was when it was put up.” She glanced at the photos. “A ’49 Panhead. Cool. Bring it in. We’ll take a look.”
“I will definitely do that. Thank you. My father recently passed away. He used to take me on rides on that bike when I was a little girl.” Nelly’s voice grew faraway, wistful. “We’d go to the general store and he’d buy me a grape soda. I loved feeling the wind in my hair.” Nelly waved a hand. “This was before helmet laws. Anyway.” The reminiscent look in Nelly’s eyes slid away and she sniffed deeply. “Are you Delaney?”
“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry. I’ve never met a Panhead I can’t get going.”
Tabitha stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth and tried to sneak away, her lack of motorcycle knowledge no longer an issue. Her shift was over, she was exhausted and she was ready to go home.
“Get back here, Steele.” Delaney grasped the hem of Tabitha’s shirt and pulled her back gently. “You need to take down this lady’s information. The more you listen, the more you’ll learn. Pretty soon you’ll know a Harley Panhead on sight.” Delaney nodded at Tabitha. “She’s still learning.”
“She seems like a nice young lady.” Nelly was all smiles now, like their earlier interaction had never happened.
After Tabitha filled out a capture sheet with Nelly Washington’s information, and the woman had left the shop in an entirely different mood than the one she’d barged in with, Delaney turned to her and said, “What’s going on, Steele? You look ready to lie on the floor and call your dog for Smoosh Time.”
Smoosh Time was Delaney’s slang for the deep pressure therapy Trinity was trained to provide if Tabitha was having a panic attack. It was affectionate rather than sarcastic. Unused to affection, Tabitha liked it and had taken to calling the therapy Smoosh Time herself. Smoosh Time actually sounded really good about now. But Trinity was still on break, chasing Wyatt around the perimeter of the shop. “It’s been a long day.”
“Massage school getting you down?”
“Old Nelly was kinda rough on her,” Nora offered. She slipped the cigarette from behind her ear and stuck it between her lips.
“That’s why she’s learning as much as she can.” Delaney tapped the capture sheet. “That’s all you can do, Steele. I don’t expect you to become a mechanic, unless you want to, but you soak in everything you can while you’re here.” She glanced at her mother. “Don’t you dare light that in here, Nora.”
Nora pulled it from her lips and rolled her eyes. “I’m not. It’s just a prop, okay?”
“How many days has it been?” After some hemming and hawing Delaney clarified, “For real.”
“Half a day,” Nora admitted. “I’d gone two days and then I caved this morning. It’s so hard not to smoke after I eat. Maybe I need to stop eating.”
Delaney shook her head. “You gotta be tough, Nora. Like Tabitha here.”
“I’m not tough.” Tabitha had been enjoying watching the mother-daughter pair interact, despite how rough her day had been so far. They made her wonder what her relationship with her birth mother would’ve been like, if she’d known her. Tabitha’s relationship with Auntie El—the woman who’d raised her and the only mother Tabitha had ever known—was as old-fashioned as it got. Yes, ma’am, No, ma’am, please and thank you, respect your elders and all boundaries clearly drawn and rarely crossed. There was none of this role reversal or sarcastic banter. Life certainly hadn’t been easy, and Tabitha had been handed absolutely nothing. If that didn’t make her tough, nothing would. “Tough is just not my nature.”
Sensitive was Tabitha’s nature, for good or bad. The armor she lacked had never been very useful, not until she joined the navy and her main job in Afghanistan was to protect her chaplain from harm. She’d been pretty good at smelling trouble, hearing things nobody else heard, seeing things nobody else saw. Some had even jokingly called her Radar, after the character from M*A*S*H. It made her good at her job, despite the fact that she hadn’t been able to prevent the IED that had got her chaplain hurt, and despite the fact that the skill was kind of useless, and often counterintuitive, in everyday life.
“You’re tough-ish, Tabitha,” Nora agreed. “Which means you got potential. Just gotta stand up for yourself with lippy women like Nelly.”
“Spill it, Steele.” Delaney shot her mother a silencing look. “What’s going on?”
“You were right, Sarge,” Tabitha admitted. She hadn’t planned on discussing her day, but there was just something about Delaney, the woman she’d met at Camp Leatherneck years ago. The woman who’d helped her keep her head straight during that awful day when an IED had taken out her convoy. “It’s massage school.”
“What about it?”
“It’s the student exchanges.” Tabitha drew a deep breath. “We have to swap with our classmates once a week to practice the strokes we learn in class. At first, I was doing really well. Everyone loved my massages and said that I just had that magic touch. But then…well… I’m doing something wrong. I’m not…massaging right.” Tabitha bit down on her lower lip.
“How can you not massage right?” Nora spoke around the unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. “Aren’t you just squirting lotion on each other? How hard can that be?”
“No. We’re not just squirting lotion. It’s a lot more than that.” Tabitha was used to Nora’s directness at this point, and did her best to not let Delaney’s mother get under her skin. “You have to learn all the bones and muscles and physiology. Plus all the strokes. There’s a lot of science. You have to learn about how the body moves and how everything works together. And then you have to massage in such a way that you’re helping people. And right now, I’m not helping anyone.” Just like she hadn’t been able to help Nelly Washington with her Panhead. Tabitha wasn’t helping anyone, anywhere.
She was an impostor in every aspect of her own life.
Nora pulled a Zippo from her pocket and flipped it open. “How do you know?” She ran her thumb over the wheel, making a clicking sound with the lighting mechanism without actually bringing the flame to life.
“I’m…” Tabitha sighed and faced the blank expressions of the women. “I’m giving the men erections.”
A round of silence passed.
“I’ve done it three times now, to three different men. So it’s not like a one-off. I’m doing something wrong.”
“Man,” Delaney said, shaking her head. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
Wyatt gave off a loud woof and everyone burst into laughter.
“Well.” Nora stuck the cigarette behind her ear and jammed the lighter in the front pocket of her jeans. “Au contraire, but I bet those men think you’re doing something right.”
“We’re definitely not supposed to get erections,” Tabitha insisted. All three men had reacted differently. Todd—young, indifferent, thought massage therapy would be an easy career field—had pretended it didn’t happen. Frank—in his forties, quiet, deliberate—had been embarrassed and would no longer make eye contact with Tabitha in class. Corbin—a loud twentysomething who called everyone dude—had eyed his own erection with detached interest and announced, “You’re doing something wrong, dude.”
Delaney shook her head. “Men are just like that. The wind blows and their dicks get hard. I wouldn’t be so down on yourself.”
“I already struggle with the science. Like right now we’re learning all the bones, with all their divots and ridges and stuff. It’s excruciating and not coming easily to me,” Tabitha said. “And now I’m screwing up the massages. I’m starting to think I’m just not cut out for it.” Just like I’m not cut out for this bike shop, she didn’t add. She already knew Delaney had given her the job out of pity. No need to shine a spotlight.
“Sounds like the bones are coming easily to you,” Nora muttered as she collected today’s paperwork from the counter and started to file it away. “You’ll be the most requested massage girl in the county. I don’t see what the big problem is.”
Delaney stifled a laugh. “Don’t listen to her. Ask Red about it later. We have the Halloween party, remember?”
The party. Tabitha died a little inside. “Right. The party. Tonight.” But Delaney was right. Tonight she could ask Constance, “Red” for short, the famous massager of humans and dogs alike, about the erections. See what advice she had to give. She’d been the one to talk Tabitha into massage school in the first place, claiming Tabitha had a gift for connecting with people. She was connecting, all right. Just not in the way she meant to.
Delaney grinned and slapped her on the shoulder. “Go home and get some Smoosh Time with your dog, Steele. Rest up. We’ll figure out the boners later.”
Twisted does not even begin to describe the plot of this book! It’s more like driving on a curvy mountain road with all kinds of switchbacks that you weren’t expecting and a tractor trailer tailgating you. There were so many unexpected surprises that I just sat back and decided to enjoy the ride instead of trying to figure it all out. Not only was the plotting phenomenal, but the characters were completely fleshed out, with their flaws and weaknesses on display for all to see. Nicole is the lawyer in a large firm, but her job may be ending because the powers that be in her organization are no longer standing behind her. Desperate for that elusive success, Nicole receives an email from an organization called Panthera Leo inviting her to join a group of powerful women who make things happen in their lives and in their careers. Thinking she has nothing to lose, Nicole attends their weekend getaway. And that’s what happens next. Her life gets away from her, out of her control, bouncing to places and events that she never dreamed would happen. The sub-plot of her relationship with Dan was also mesmerizing as he just came across as a good guy who wanted whatever would make Nicole happy. Meanwhile, Nicole has a whole set of new lady friends and something weird is going on in her career, something remarkably unexplainable. Without giving the twists away, I cannot tell you much more about the plot except that this book captivated my imagination like no other book has lately. Told with real emotion and some evil manipulations that are somewhere in another stratosphere, this book is one that no one who loves suspense thrillers should miss. In fact, it’s a good thing that the book is listed as fiction or I would be trying to join Panthera Leo myself. Realistic book with so many wow factors and including so many details that demonstrated excellent research. Creativity and imagination combine to make this story one of the best fiction books that I have ever read! Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Simon and Schuster via Netgalley and also a hard copy from them via mail. I was not required to write a positive review, but I was absolutely delighted to do so for such an amazing book. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
This book is a hard PG-13 for me because of subject matter. It deals with a secret society that has a lot of weirdness going on in it and some cult-like aspects. Catherine McKenzie was born and raised in Montreal, Canada. A graduate of McGill in History and Law, Catherine practiced law for twenty years before leaving the practice to write full time. An avid runner, skier and tennis player, she’s the author of numerous bestsellers including HIDDEN, FRACTURED, THE GOOD LIAR and I’LL NEVER TELL. Her works have been translated into multiple languages and THE GOOD LIAR, YOU CAN’T CATCH ME and I’LL NEVER TELL have all been optioned for development into television series. Photo and bio are from the author’s website at http://www.catherinemackenzie.com
Pre-order now! This book releases on August 23, 2022. Here are purchase links for your convenience:
With deep appreciation to Simon and Schuster for the copies of the book that they provided me, including an e-book on Netgalley and a hard copy that I received via mail.
I have heard all of my life that life is a mystery and we have to solve it. I’m not sure whether it was my mother or grandmother who put that idea into my head, but since mysteries are my favorite genre to read, I have been content with that analogy for years. Then this morning I read a devotional that compared life to a puzzle and I think it is a much more appropriate fit. When I think of a mystery, I think of a bad guy who is lurking in the shadows and the good guy who always wins in the end. Well, that fits if you cast Satan as the bad guy and Jesus as the victor. But in the puzzle analogy, we, God’s creation, seem to have a more active role, so that’s why I like it.
We make plans daily. For example, I knew that this week I volunteered to work at Vacation Bible School at our church. I was first assigned to work in crafts with the elementary children, but that didn’t pan out because it required that I descend steep steps to the classroom. So, the coordinator moved me to preparing snacks in the church kitchen. But when I went to pick up my shirt for the week, I was told that I would be working the check in table outside. I had planned on one thing, but I switched twice. Why? Because I was not in charge! I’m a volunteer.
That’s what we are in the Lord’s army. We are volunteers and sometimes we like to think that we are in charge and make plans accordingly. But God, who is in charge, may change our plans according to what He needs and the perspective that He has. He sees all things and all people and knows exactly what needs to happen and when. Life is like a puzzle that God is putting pieces together and we can only see one small part of it and sometimes that doesn’t make sense to us until we back away and look at it from a distance. We have to trust that God knows what He is doing and turn over our desires to Him so that He can mold us and them into something that makes sense for His big plan.
Personally, I am not a fan of puzzles. The intricate skill of choosing pieces and fitting them together so that one big beautiful picture is complete has generally escaped me. I was able to complete a puzzle with my grandchildren earlier this summer and was so pleased that I was able to enjoy my time with them working on it. I can just imagine God working out the puzzle of our lives, with the image in His mind of what He has planned for us and how everything will look in the end. The thing is we are not at the end yet. All of the pieces are still being placed and we need to wait patiently, without stamping our feet and demanding that God follow our plans. I don’t like puzzles, but I am willing to concede that since God is putting the pieces of my life together, fitting my pieces in with the pieces of others with whom I interact in this world, then I need to let God and just let Him complete it. I have input because He has given me the ability to make choices but I don’t have the final say, and I’m okay with that. I have discovered that God is not only assembling the puzzle of my life; He is also creating it. And one day I will understand because I will see it from God’s perspective of Heaven and it will all come together beautifully.
May your day be blessed with the wonder of how much God loves you and thanksgiving for the beautiful picture He is creating with your puzzling life.
Everyone who has ever been in a difficult or dangerous situation wants to be rescued from it, not left in it. But what does rescue look like?
The Bible promises that God will rescue His people from their troubles. Does that mean that our Sovereign Lord makes all of our troubles go away? I’m sorry to have to say that it does not. Sometimes rescue means that we plod through the troubles, but in my experience, it is me who changes, not the troubles. I see them in a different light, in the light of who God is and how He is with me and the troubles that are still there become smaller and almost non-existent. That is a kind of rescue that is not expected but for me it has always been welcome. It’s also impossible to say when and how God will show up to rescue us. He turns up in the most creative ways possible, sometimes in the form of a stranger who offers a helping hand and sometimes in the form of a Bible verse that the Holy Spirit brings to our minds to comfort us and to get us thinking on the right track. God promises to rescue, that is true. But our part is to be ready to be rescued in a way that may not be exactly what we thought it would be and to accept that rescue for what it is. The alternative is to wallow in our problems, throw a pity party and hope that someone will join us in that miry mess. I have found in my long life that many times the troubles I need to be rescued from are due to my own poor choices. Yet, in spite of me, God shows us and rescues me, sending help just when I’m ready to give up. God is always on time, just not always on our timetable that we like to set for Him.
God will always bear our burdens but we have to give them to Him. He doesn’t reach down and grab them from us. Sometimes, in my own stubbornness, I have been absolutely determined to bear my own burdens, thinking that my own ingenuity and cleverness will get me out of the mess that I created and too proud to ask God for help. However, once I have decided that I cannot do it on my own, that I need His help and turn the burden over to Him, then He can take it away, lighten the load and show me how to carry a much lighter burden instead. God is ready to daily take on whatever troubles us, but we need to ask Him to do so instead of being self-sufficient. After all, our Creator knows what is best for us, if we would just acknowledge His wisdom and move on in His way rather than following our own path.
I pray that everyone will have a wonderful day, blessed in the knowledge of how very much God loves each of us and wants to take our burdens away and rescue us from our troubles.
There are two verbs that mean to know in the Spanish language. One is “saber” which means to know facts. For example, I know my multiplication tables and I know the colors of the rainbow. The other verb is “conocer” which means to know a person. For example, I know some of the people at my church. It’s a large church, so I don’t know many of them well. However, I know my husband well, or at least as well as I think I can since we have been married for almost fifty years.
Now here is the Spanish version. Note the uses of “saber” and “conocer.”
The word for having knowledge of facts is used in the first part of the verse, having some knowledge but not all the factual knowledge that they should have. Then, the last part of this Scripture switches to use knowledge of people Those who love God are known by Him. He doesn’t have us memorized like facts, but He knows us, inside and out, the “good, bad and ugly” and He loves us anyway. When the Bible refers to knowing God, it uses the verb “conocer” because God is to be known as a person, not a fact that you claim to know a lot about.
“Saber” is used in this verse because knowing that you have eternal life is a fact that you can know, requiring certain actions on our part, including confession and repentance.
“Conocer” is used here because it is referring to knowing God as a person. If we truly know someone, we know what will disappoint them and what will make them happy with us.
Jesus knows His children as his friends. How well do we know Him? Do we just know the facts that we have been taught about His life, death and resurrection? Or are we striving to really know Him, to know His heart and what would make Him delight in us. Saber or conocer?
I have barely touched on this topic of the two differences in these verbs. If you use an online version of the Bible, it is a simple thing to change to a Spanish translation (American Latina is best) and see for yourself which verb is used when you see the word “know.” I’m amazed at all we can learn about God and truly know Him by reading and studying His word.
May your day be blessed with the knowledge of him who saved you and loves you.
Vickie's Book Nook and Meditation Corner 