This is blog 1783.  Somedays I think, "That's it.  I have nothing to say."  But then, something happens and I write another six inches.

I talked to my brother yesterday and asked him if he had visited the Roman jail where they imprisoned the apostle Paul.  He hadn't, so I described it.  The Romans dug a cistern, (where you can store water--and it can't leak out) a huge sphere in solid rock (I think it was granite) with a hole at the top just large enough for a ladder to lower you to to the bottom.  Once in it, the ladder was withdrawn.  The cistern walls were curved.  No way to get a grip and climb out.

Cold.  Damp.  They put Paul down there.  Which makes the verses in the fourth chapter of 2 Timothy so poignant.  He's in this hole and writes, "...come shortly unto me...Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world...bring Mark with you..."  Paul is lonely. He wants the comfort of fellow believers: "Mark is profitable to me for the ministry." Paul is still thinking about how to spread the gospel; even though he is locked up in a dark hole in the ground--no way out.

But one of the rare times his misery comes through is in verse 13 he says, (my paraphrase) "When you come bring the cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus..." Paul was cold.  He needed his cloak to wrap up in.  He was most probably damp.  I'm sure he was miserable.  But he continues to write letters of encouragement to churches and other believers.

My daughter took a group to Rome and let each person the choose one thing they wanted to see.  My choice was to see where Paul was imprisoned.  I'll never again think about suffering in the same way.  Even though some friends had abandoned him, even though he was wet, cold, and alone, his purpose for living never faltered.  He had been called to tell others about Jesus' death and resurrection and intercession for sin. That's the same thing we are called to do.  In our warm, dry, lives.  Surrounded by friends.  We have no excuse.