Four years before COVID, my husband, Douglas, and I toured Israel. To my surprise, a small city located ninety miles north of Jerusalem proved to be at the top of my list of favorite places to visit. As our tour bus circled down out of the hills, I saw Nazareth nestled in a small basin surrounded by mountains. It completely captured my heart. I questioned if it was because of its charming ancient beauty or because it was Jesus’ childhood home. Like Jerusalem, the town is constructed of Jerusalem limestone—the primary building material in the area since antiquity, which gives the sensation of being transported back in time. Unlike the city of Jerusalem, Nazareth retains the atmosphere of a village. 

    Walking through the streets of Nazareth, I saw several children playing between a church and a store. I pictured Jesus as a child and playing in the midst of the children. Running and jumping stirred up the limestone dust under their bare feet while their long garments sent the dust dancing in the wind. Beams of sunlight shining through the tree branches bounced off the limestone particles, creating a golden glow that surrounded the children.

     As my imagination ran wild, I pictured myself as a young child living in Nazareth. Naturally, my house must be next to my best friend, Jesus. I imagined my siblings and me playing with Jesus every day. We all loved him like a brother, and that love grew as we spent more time with him.

    I remembered reading a copy of an ancient book not included in the Bible. It told about Mary, the mother of Jesus, plus it described some of the things Jesus did as a child. That memory triggered my imagination even further.

    I felt loved as Jesus confided in me what was going to happen. That is the same love I feel reading prophecy in the Bible and knowing he loves me enough to share his knowledge of the future. His knowledge of the future develops a secure love within me. As Jesus continued, I listened intensely.

    You will have several jobs and raise four children. Your life will provide experiences to write about. I will equip you to teach in the prisons for a while, leaving you with a desire to reach children with God’s Word before they embark on their journey through life. Your stories will help equip these little ones.”

     Then He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Don’t be surprised if people say you are not skilled enough to complete the task I am giving you. They may refer to you as that lady from a small town. Remember that I am from a small town also. Someday, Nathanael will even say to Phillip, ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’" (John1:46 NKJV.)

 

  I said, “Okay,” and we continued to play.

            One of the kids rolled the hoop toward a fig tree by the church. A child sat on a limestone bench by the tree, eating a fig. I looked at the child and thought I recognized him from a second-grade picture.

             Jesus said, “Yes, Joye, that’s your Douglas.”  He stood beside me and smiled as I continued to stare at the little boy on the bench. Then softly whispering, He said “Remember the parable of the Fig Tree. It may be during your time.”

 “Now learn this parable from the fig tree: When its branch has already become tender and puts forth leaves, you know that summer is near. So you also, when you see all these things, know that]it is near—at the doors!  Assuredly, I say to you, this generation will by no means pass away till all these things take place (Matthew 24:32-34 NKJV.)

    Suddenly, my husband stood beside me, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward him. “You nearly fell,” he said, pointing at the stairs before us. “Where have you been? I was getting worried.”

    Jolted into the present time, I replied, “I was just talking to Jesus.”

    “Well, keep your eyes open while you pray. I’d like to finish this tour safely. We need to hurry back to the bus," Douglas said, still hugging me close.   "It is almost time to leave.”

    I could see myself standing by Jesus inside the dome of golden dust. I looked at my best friend with a wrinkled brow and asked, “Is what my mom said true? Mother said your mother saved your bathwater when you were a baby to heal the sick children in the village.”

Jesus looked deep into my eyes and asked, “What do you think, Joye?”

    Without a doubt in my mind, I replied, “I think it’s true!” Then, snatching up a wooden toy hoop rolling toward me, I rolled it to Jesus.

    Jesus rolled the hoop to my brother, then squatted down and picked up a bird with a broken wing. All the children gathered around to see the little blue creature. Jesus stroked its feathers as he cupped it in one hand. The bird’s wing healed, and it flew away. For a magical moment, we all stood still, quiet, and amazed at what had happened. Then, we quickly continued to play. Jesus healing a bird seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. After all, He is God’s Son.

    When I tripped on a rock, Jesus reached out his hand to help me up while telling me he needed to talk to me. He seemed profoundly serious, so I listened carefully.

     “Someday, He said, great men will write a book about me.”

     I didn’t doubt Him—not even a little bit.

     Then he said, “The book may be hard for young children to understand. When you grow up, I want you to write stories for children. Make the stories simple and explain a principle or two about me in each story. Don’t worry; plenty of other people will pen books about me. You don’t have to do it alone, and I’ll send the Holy Spirit to whisper to your heart and help you write.

Three requirements to write:

  • A willingness to listen to Jesus when he speaks to your heart with a pencil handy no matter what time of the night or day, usually around 3:00 am.
  • Patience when the words must be waited on.
  • A prayer in your heart for children to know God’s Word