3 Meek
What Is A Disciple? A Reflection on Luke 24:36-49

What Is A Disciple? A Reflection on Luke 24:36-49

While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts?...

Success: A Reflection After My Conversation With Charlie Hedges

Success: A Reflection After My Conversation With Charlie Hedges

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5). Recently, Charlie Hedges contacted me after he read my post, “Lord, Teach Us to Pray: Petition as Contemplation.” He said, “Marshall, you and I swim in the same pond.” After learning more about him,...

From Rapture Back to Earth: A Meditation on Mark 13

From Rapture Back to Earth: A Meditation on Mark 13

(Suggestion: Read Mark 13) Growing up in the rural South, rapture was in the air. Not the blissful rapture of lovers, but the gravity-defying rapture of fundamentalists and readers of Hal Lindsey’s mega-bestselling book, The Late, Great Planet Earth. This vision of...

Knowing Wind (poem)

Knowing Wind (poem)

Knowing Wind  for Wanda by J. Marshall Jenkins   The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit (John 3:8). You teach me much about trees,...

Bare Winter Trees (Poem)

Bare Winter Trees (Poem)

  Bare Winter Trees J. Marshall Jenkins In my hurry to the mailbox this cold December morning, bare winter trees draw my gaze from rain soaked roots up to manifold etched fingers pointing - look! – to gray cloud cover sagging under  light poised to burst through....

Mary’s Son

Mary’s Son

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5). Mary remembered old, wizened Simeon with hair coming out of every pore, bone-bent, hunched, and creeping toward Joseph and Mary's son like a spider.  With childlike delight in his crinkled eyes, he...

A Writer’s Confession

A Writer’s Confession

I do not write for you to remember me.  I write for you to remember yourself.  Find words for your experience in my words.