Luke was sorry to see Mark go, especially after the lift he had given Paul. But with Paul’s memoir waiting, Luke didn’t mind having the old missionary all to himself again. The writings had the potential to be priceless. Paul had never penned a simple letter to a friend or a church without loading it with truth so poignant and beautifully written that the whole of the body of believers benefitted from it. Better than that, Paul’s thoughts and reasoning seemed to be born of his rich relationship with Christ. He wrote with an urgency and authority that amazed and thrilled his readers. Would his memoir prove any less?
That evening in the dungeon Paul riffled through the parchments, asking Luke to move the light higher. Finally he pulled a huge sheaf of sheets from the rest and handed them to Luke. “We must not wait any longer. Take these and start reading them. Guard them with your life, and bring them back to me. I need your counsel. We need to talk these through, make certain they are accurate, complete, and most of all meaningful.”
Luke tucked the documents away and rushed to Primus’ home as if bearing precious gems. His body ached from the fatigue of the day, but his mind was alive. In his room he disrobed, then wrapped himself in his cloak and sat at his table, lamp lit, parchments stacked before him. He lifted the first and tipped it toward the light.