The price has bee paid

My excellent thing, thing worthy of praise for yesterday/today: the friends in Iowa City that God has blessed me with! Definitely an answered prayer to truly feel a part of a group of women around the same place in life, learning more about each other, growing together, supporting one another in prayer. SO great.

None of my own deep thoughts to share today, but there is a story I read in a book I'm reading that is a really cool illustration of what it means that Jesus paid for our sins, so I'll type it below.

From Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, by Joanna Weaver:
"The story is told of a young man who left the Old Country and sailed to America to make a new life in the New World. Before he left, his father pressed some money in his hand. It wasn't much, but it was all he had. He hoped it would tide the boy over until he found a job. His mother handed him a box of food for the journey, then they kissed and hugged and tearfully said good-bye.

On the boat, the young man gave his ticket to the porter and found his way to the tiny cabin he'd share with several others during the month-long voyage to New York. That evening at mealtime, the young man went topside and unwrapped a sandwich his mother had made. He ate silently as he watched other passengers file into a large room crowded with tables. He listened to their chatty laughter and watched as waiters brought plates filled with hot, steaming food. Be he just smiled, enjoying his mother's fresh homemade bread and the crisp apple his brother had picked that morning. Bless my family, he prayed.

The days went by slowly, and the young man's box of food quickly dwindled. But meals such as they offered in the dining room were certain to cost a lot. He'd need that money later.

He ate alone in his cabin now. The smell from the dining hall made his stomach wrench with hunger. He allowed himself a few crackers and some cheese each day, whispering a prayer of thanks before scraping the mold off the hard lump. A shriveled apple and the tepid rainwater he'd collected in a can completed his meager meal.

Three days out of New York, the last of the food was gone except for a wormy apple. The young man could take no more. Pale and weak, he asked the porter in broken English, "How much?" The porter looked confused. "Food," the young man said as he held out some coins and pointed to the dining room. "How much?"

Finally the ship steward understood. He smiled and shook his head. "It costs nothing," he said, closing the immigrant's hand back around his money. "You are free to eat! The cost of food was included in the price of passage."

Wow, how long do we wait before joining the meal that we were able to go to the whole time? How long do we try it on our own before realizing that God's provision is so much greater than we could ever imagine? How limited is our view of the world and what is good or right? It may be hard to swallow our pride and accept the free meal, but it was made FOR US! We need just accept the invitation!