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I'm not much of a history buff, but I read a fact the other day, and I can't stop thinking about it.
The Pony Express was a private company that carried mail by an organized relay of horseback riders. If the weather and horses held out and the Indians kept their distance, that letter would complete the 2000 mile journey in ten days. Being a rider was a tough job. You were expected to ride 75-100 miles a day, changing horses every 15-25 miles. The only baggage the riders carried was a small kit of cornmeal and a medical pack. Short sleeve shirts were required (didn't weigh much). The winter months proposed the danger of frost bite or even death. It was every mother's fear that her son would sign up. An 1860 San Francisco newspaper printed this ad for the Express: "WANTED! Young, skinny, wiry fellow not over 18, expert rider. Orphans preferred."
Such a thought made me think of the word sacrifice. In my relationship with Christ, a deeper intimacy requires a deliberate choice of dropping excess baggage, breaking through my own 'Indian territory' of busyness, and getting up earlier to commune with the Father when the pleasure of warmth would beckon me to sleep a little longer. Sacrifice. It means having my eyes fixed on the prize while being willing to suffer the loss of something temporal.
Sacrifice for Jesus - What does that look like for you?
Hugs,
Pam
P.S. For added info on how to bring your alone time with God to life, see "5 Quiet-Time Tidbits That Promise to Juice-Up Your Day."
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Jingle Jangle Event for Single Moms - November 16
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