His Wounds Have Paid My Ransom
I stood in the crowd in San Miguel De Allende, Mexico – among family, among strangers, among Mexicans, Americans, and those from around the world. They stood on the stage – reenacting Jesus’ final days before the cross. They spoke in Spanish. I knew the story. Jesus was bound and standing before Pontius Pilate,… Continue reading His Wounds Have Paid My Ransom