Dare They Push Him Off the Cliff?
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Dare They Push Him Off the Cliff?

I'm surmising you are hesitant about buying a book from a relatively unknown author. (By the way do you know about the cool prices you can get them at Amazon right now?) I though it would be a bit easier for you decide if you want to read Mary'am's Diary if I shared a little excerpt with you. If you like what you read, could you pass it on or in some other way show that you liked what you read? Yes, yes, I will get out of the way so you can read....MARY"S DIARY!

We moved to K’far Nahum, (Capernaum), after Yosef died, and

I eventually joined Yeshua on His journeys. It was with mixed emotions I saw that

His face was set as though to go to our former home town. I wondered

how He would be received there.

I went along to the synagogue in Navara although women

frequently stay home and was somewhat surprised that the ruler actually

handed him a scroll which indicated that He was being invited to read

from the Torah, and speak on it.

My attention was distracted by whispering voices just behind me.

“Well, look at that! They are actually expecting Yeshua-bar—Yosef

to speak!”

“Humph! It was never proven that He was Yosef’s Son. I don’t see any likeness in Him.”

“Neither do I. I can’t place Him. He looks like He could be any

man’s Son. Fancy them letting Him speak!”

“Well, they mustn’t consider Him a bastard then. Otherwise they

would keep Him from the building, no?”

“Hush! My, what gracious words are coming out of His mouth… I am sure that is not the reading for today!”

My ears had grown hot while this dialogue was taking place but the gossipers soon were quiet; for a while at least.

“What? What nerve! He’s taking those words of Isaias, and twisting

them to apply to Himself! Look how flustered the reader is. Obviously

it wasn’t today’s reading.”


“This is infuriating! I hope someone stops Him!”

“Look! Your husband has jumped up, and is reasoning with


“Reasoning?” a new voice muttered. “It looks more like berating, me. Another man has joined him; and another. Are we going to have an uprising right here in the house of HaShem?”

By then nearly everyone in the women’s balcony was rising from

their seats and craning their necks to get a better view. I marveled at how unperturbed He was even after the men started pulling, and shoving at Him, and the shouting increased. I, too, had risen from my seat, and with my hand to my throat

watched them as they grew angrier, and more violent. The names of the Holy One were on my lips.

“Yeshua,” I wailed as they dragged Him out of the building.

When I heard someone yell, “Throw Him over the brow of the

hill,” I struggled to reach the exit. It was impossible! Everyone was fighting to get out. A wee talitha screamed. She was being crushed by the press of bodies. I picked her up, and held her high above my head. Her mother snatched her from me then

continued pushing her way towards the stairs.

I hung back. There was no use trying to get through that congestion. I

went to look over the balustrade. The synagogue had almost completely

emptied. A stooped old man was picking himself up off the floor, groping

for his cane, and tottering towards the flung open doors.

I could hear the shouting, and yelling from where I was on the

balcony. I fell on my knees, and lifted my hands imploringly up to


HaShem, hallowed be Thy name, have mercy! Have mercy on Thy Son, oh Most High!”

An ominous silence filled the building. Everyone else was gone.

continued praying, and entreating God until no more words came,

then just laid my head on the railing as my heart pounded erratically.

I lifted my head. The sounds were getting louder. They were

coming back! Where was Yeshua? I was staring through the wide open

doors at the multitude tramping down the road when a hand touched

my shoulder. I looked back.

“Yeshua! You escaped!” I started to fling myself into His arms but He drew


“They are searching for me. We must go. We will go out this back door.”

We snatched up our belonging which were stowed nearby, and hurried several furloughs out of town before stopping to rest. The disciples eventually caught up with us.

. . . And now as I sit beneath this sycamore tree, writing it all down,

I still feel shaky, but we are safe for now. I wonder why His talmidim

did not try harder to protect Him, but at least He is safe.

I understand, He merely walked through the midst of

the mob without them even noticing. How can that be? It sounds like a miracle to me! But how my heart did beat erratically for a long time afterward! There is nothing more

important to me than to see my children safe, and happy. All of them.

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