"Missing someone who's face you've seen before is one thing. But missing someone you haven't met face-to-face yet is another thing."
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Once upon a time, in a little town off Luke Ln. and Highway 19 a tax collector sauntered the streets. Nobody walked with him, nobody talked to him. His face, shrouded in the cloak and hood that hung at his shoulders, was downcast, and he picked up his feet hardly at all. This tax collector was the picture of loneliness and despair. His life was sunk. He'd ruined his reputation, and he had gone so far into his evil deeds that he didn't believe he could ever be pulled out. With ever step, the weight of his sins heaped more heavily across his shoulders. He was out of hope.
The mid afternoon sun was beating down as the crow, like a herd of cattle, pressed and blundered and trampled their way around to hear what this new Teacher had to say. They had heard tale of this Teacher from many people---stories of his wise words, his bold finger rebukes, and even whisperings of miracles he preformed. The teacher made his way to a good spot where his face was shaded by a sycamore tree and began to speak.
Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say.
The tax collector continued to make his way down the street. He noticed the stillness around him and was confused at the lack of the usual evening rush of villagers.
A then he saw it.
The entire town was up ahead, near the sycamore tree, paying close attention to something the tax collector could not see. Holding his head a little higher and widening his eyes with curiosity, he picked up his pace and headed toward the people. Once there he was appalled at the mass of the crowed. Standing on the outskirts, there was no way that the tax collector could hear what was being spoken by the figure in the center.
He wondered what on earth would capture this many people's attention? Who could this man, this foreign man truly be?
Filled with wonderment, the man struggled to press through the crowed in order to see and hear better. Unfortunately, he was small and easily looked over. After being trampled beneath the hooves of the citizens, his eyes fell to the tree that stood in a very convenient placed.
Ah! That was it! The tree!
By now the tax collector was in earnest. Although he was unsure of why, he wanted with all his heart to see what this was all about.
The tree looked easy enough to climb. Up and in and over and through---the tax collector moved through the branches. His small size made it easy to maneuver, and determinedly, he gazed that the face of the speaker.
And that was when it happened.
Their eyes met.
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To read the rest check out Luke Chapter 19.
But boy, this guy longed to see Jesus. He wanted that opportunity. Bad. Maybe we can learn something from ol' Zac.
