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“…he was despised and we esteemed him not…”
Isaiah 53:3(AV)

          My Mum, just a teenager, was already pregnant when Dad married her.
That mightn't seem so shocking in today's society, but back then it was horrific. And because they lived in a small country town, everyone knew. Both my parents were frowned upon and as I grew older I was regarded with scorn.

          My early childhood however, passed with me totally unaware of all this. I was born far from our home town and from there we were forced to move on. For the safety of their child my parents had to leave the country altogether, - living as refugees in a foreign culture, with a foreign language. We were surrounded by people who despised our race and rejected our religious beliefs and practices. It was very difficult for my parents. Dad struggled to make a living; neither of my parents was accepted or able to mix socially, - except with other refugees. I remember that, as I grew old enough to understand, I was rarely able to mix with the other little children there.

          As the years passed and the political situation changed, we were able to go home. Dad set up in business again, and life seemed to me to be just the same for us as for all those around us. I loved Mum and Dad; they loved me and my younger brothers and sisters. We were poor, but very happy together. I was blissfully unaware of any black mark on our background and felt totally secure in my family.

          ... until that awful day....

          I was playing with my friends down the road when they began to argue over which of us should take the role of a king in our game.

          With all the confidence and logic of an innocent child, I said, "I should be king, because a long time ago Dad's family used to be kings, so I belong to the royal family."

          What a savage reaction I got from them.

          "You! A king!"

          "YOU can never be a king"

          "You're an Egyptian!"

          "Your dad! Joseph's not your father. You don't even look like him!"

          "Nobody knows who your father really is!"

          "My Mum says your Mum is a whore!"

          "Mary would have been stoned to death if Joseph hadn't been so quick to marry her!"

          "Our dads are from a nation of kings and priests, but who knows where your real father came from?”

 

          Flabbergasted, I reeled in horror. What were they saying? What did it all mean?

          I stood aghast, - open-mouthed, bewildered - as they began to chant, over and over, "Jesus is a b......"

          Unable to stand it any longer, I fled, - the others jeering and laughing at my back.

 

          But where could I go?

          Through my tears I could see Dad's workshop just beyond our house.

          "But is he my Dad? Do I belong there? Who am I really?"

          With tormentors at my back and fear of the unknown at home, what could a little boy do?

          I ran blindly, - past my home, away from my peers and my family, into a neighboring field and flung myself down into the long grass.

 

          I buried my face in my arms,

 

          and sobbed...

 

          and sobbed...

 

          and sobbed…

 

 

 

          *** BELIEVE ME!!

 

          I know how you feel

 

          - when you're surrounded by people who don’t accept you,

 

          - when you feel alone and friendless,

 

          - or you’re just a kid,

                    mocked and put down by your mates,

 

          - when you think that even your family is against you.


          When you feel like that, I remember,

          and I feel it too.

          So I understand,

          and I love you.


          I'll never forget about you,

          but I always feel your hurting,

          and I care!

          so very much!

 

          and I am

          your Lord. 

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