The tattered widow made her way to the Temple in the center of the city. As she brushed through the throng she was doing something she rarely had time to do or even wanted to do, rubbing shoulders with society. Most were poor like her. Some were of a much higher class and their fine clothes and sweet smells shouted their status. She had reached a decision. She had come to a fork in the path of her simple life. One way lead to satisfying a vow she had made to God the other way lead to a quick fix, trying to satisfy her empty stomach. She decided to fight the uproar within and pay her vow. Her petite frame squeezed through the crush at the huge Temple door and toward the offering box. There was a line. There were many Oohhs and aahh's as various large amounts were deposited by elegant looking men. She was now embarrassed. She scraped through her dusty threadbare bag searching for her tiny gift. It was there, she knew it. It had to be there. It was all she had. If she didn't ...
These are devotional, and other, thoughts from a guy who lived in Brazil from 1997 to 2023. I recount personal experiences and Bible applications with most of my posts. These "posts" are mostly for me but if you want to, you can read them too!