I know a few things about holes. I was raised in rural north Alabama, off the beaten path, surrounded by gravel roads and pine trees. I’ve dodged potholes large enough to swallow a truck. I’ve dropped rocks in sinkholes and waited to hear the splash at the bottom. I know what it’s like to see what’s on the other side of the fence by looking through a peephole. I’ve jumped in my share of swimming holes. I’ve even poured gasoline down a snake hole. Considering all the experience I had as a kid with potholes, sinkholes, and such, there are a few folks we read about in the Bible who knew far more about holes than I do. The people you’ll read about in the pages to come were in deep, dark holes. Some, because of sin. Others, because of carelessness. And others, because of someone else’s revenge.
I’m not an authority on much of anything. I haven’t arrived. I don’t know all the answers. I’m still asking questions. But, I have been around the block a few times. Over the years I have talked with, listened to, and prayed for hundreds of people who were in some kind of a hole. Deep, dark holes. And, most of them wanted out.
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