Cindy K. Sproles is an author and a speaker, whose dream is to do nothing more than craft words that speak from the heart. God's plan seems to be for her to write and teach the craft.  With God’s guidance, Cindy is expanding her horizons. We'll see how He uses her.

Cindy is a mountain gal. Proud of her heritage, she was born and raised in the Appalachian Mountains where life is simple, words have a deep southern drawl, and colloquialisms like, "well slap my knee and call me corn pone" seem to take precedence over proper speech. Apple Butter, coal mining, the river, pink sunrises, and golden sunsets help you settle into a porch swing and relax. Family, the love of God, and strong morals are embedded into her life in the mountains. Teaching writers, spinning fiction tales about life in the mountains, history, and down-home ideas find their way into all she does. “I love to write devotions, to seek after the deeper side of Christ, and to share the lessons He teaches me from life in the hills of East Tennessee. I am a writer. A speaker. A lover of God's Word and friend to all.” This is Cindy Sproles. Welcome home to the mountains.

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The Man In the Middle

11/24/2022 7:30:00 AM BY Cindy Sproles

“The man on the middle cross said I could come.” Those words shook my soul.

It was a particularly difficult month. Folks were pulling me from every direction, deadlines, company coming for Thanksgiving, help at church to complete Christmas decorating, and to boot, I was fighting a kidney stone. I’m sure you’ve been there too – when you were not only tired but spent. That was my November.

Our son and future daughter-in-law were in visiting and I so wanted her to feel loved and welcomed, yet everything I tried to do backfired at an embarrassing pace. As my husband and I crawled in the car to head to a church board meeting, feeling beaten, less than worthy and defeated was an understatement. And then it happened…

One of the men gave the opening devotion and within that few moments, God reached down from heaven and took a finger beneath my chin, lifted it, and smiled at me. In ten words, I went from broken to recognized and repaired.

The devotion spoke of the thief who hung next to Jesus – the one who went to Jesus’ defense. The one whom Jesus promised would live with Him in heaven that day. The thought behind the devotion was, that should someone ask the thief how he managed to get into heaven never knowing Jesus or the Father, and never having understood sin – how could he enter heaven?

The reply changed my whole thought process and I suddenly felt...worthy. “The man on the middle cross said I could come.” Isn’t that something? The man on the middle cross said I could come.

Ten words changed everything.

I sat in the meeting, dabbing my eyes. I realized that if Jesus could invite a man with no knowledge of Him or God, but who recognized he was guilty of sin into heaven, then where did I stand?

 Part of my crisis of faith has been soul-searching, asking myself if I have been the person Christ has required of me. Have I served as He as called? Do I love him enough? I’m finding, I’m not the only one who asks these questions. It seems many of my Christian brothers and sisters do the same.

I understand my walk with Christ is not all about works...and I sorta look at that scripture that says faith without works is dead and think to myself...my faith, without Christ working in and through me, is dead (I suppose that may be sightly taken out of context, but is it really? I’m still thinking it applies either way).

Either way, thanks to Jesus, I AM SAVED. Why do we doubt? Why do we fear? Why do we wonder? My best guess is sin. None of us are immune from it. Still, thanks to the man on the middle cross, we have the invitation and the promise.

I hope as you enjoy your thanksgiving with friends and family, you will remember the man on the middle cross, and exactly what He has done for you.

Happy Thanksgiving. The love of Christ to you.


Picture 1 – Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay  /  Picture 2 – Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay / Picture 3 –Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay 


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