The medieval village of Murlo

The overpriced hair supplies I bought are all worthless.  As I was getting ready for the day I kept thinking, “I brought something for that,” then remembered, “but it’s in my suitcase.”

In my morning devotions I read the story of the man born blind (John 9).  After he healed the blind man, Jesus heard that they’d thrown the man out of the synagogue.  Jesus sought out the man, approached him with compassion and gave him something much better than synagogue membership:  a relationship with himself forever.  We haven’t seen our luggage since we checked in four days ago in Washington, and we’ve managed, but now we’ve had enough of it.  Jesus says, “You’ve still got me.”  Yes.  Jesus is better than luggage.  He is providing for us and I will keep trusting him.

Murlo is a tiny hilltop ring of stone houses around a sloping piazza bisected by the Palazzone and Palazzina, now the Etruscan museum.  The village is populated by two dozen residents and a coterie of cats.  It was a beautiful and quiet place for the painters.

The painters doing a quick painting of the scene behind them from memory Keep reading