Matthew 2:13-23 The dream came in the night,sharp and urgent as a blade:Rise. Take the child and his mother.Flee to Egypt. Now. I woke with my heart hammering,Mary breathing softly beside me,the baby asleep in his basket. Herod seeks the child’s life. Words that changed everything. We had visitors days before—strange men from the Eastwith expensive gifts and stranger questions.They knelt before my son—as if he were a king. I didn’t understand it then.I’m not sure I understand it now. But the dream made one thing clear:this child—my son, not my son—mattered enough to kill for. We left before dawn.I took what I could carry:a few tools, some bread, the…
"Dispatches to the Front" -- a collection of theological meditations by Thomas A. Robinson, J.D., M.Div.