Читать книгу Hidden in His Own Story - Andrew Walton - Страница 7

Dried blood encrusted my eyes. Each breath was more and more shallow. Every attempt to move my arms or legs produced pure anguish. How long had I been there? How long would it take for life to slowly drain from my body? Would I die beaten, bloodied, naked, and alone in the scorching sun?

I remembered walking along the path from Jerusalem to Jericho, the morning sun in my face as it rose over a distant hill, and the silhouetted faces of two approaching strangers. Then all went black.

Voices. Was I delirious? They grew louder and clearer. Thank God! I cried out, “Help!” Instead, an animal-like groan pierced the air as pain shot through my jaw. I tried again. The pain was white, the sound inhuman.

“Stay away,” one of the voices said.

“But he needs help, master,” responded another.

“Perhaps,” said the first, “but not from us. He is unclean. Do as I say. Stay clear of him and move along.”

“No!” I cried out, but only in my mind. As the two figures walked away, for a brief moment the sun caught the bottom of their robes. One was coarse and plain, that of a servant. The other was fine linen. Gold trim on the hem sparkled in the sunlight, the unmistakable garb of a temple priest.

“I am one of you,” my mind shouted. “I am a son of Abraham. Where is your mercy?” The two figures disappeared into the shadows. I was lost.

I lay there for what could have been minutes or hours before I heard other voices approaching. If only I could speak.

“Is he alive?” one asked.

“I think not,” came a reply. “The insects are already having their way. We best stay away.”

“I agree. As Levites we must maintain our purity.”

“Poor man.”

“Yes.”

They walked away and the sun returned. Their only mercy had been a brief moment of cool shade in their shadows.

My eyes closed for what I thought would be the last time. Ringing in my head subsided to the hum of insects crawling about my face, but I could do nothing. The sun beat down, yet I shivered as cold welled up within. Gasping for breath my body stilled, the pain gone. “So, this is death?” Darkness gently caressed me.

When the mind goes to sleep it is as the scriptures say, “A thousand years are like a watch in the night.” It could have been a few moments or eternity itself. I don’t really know. I do know that the cool darkness surrounding me became a cool sensation on my forehead and lips. Then in the distant dark there was a light.

The light moved toward me. Or was I moving toward the light? I had no way of knowing for all points of reference were gone. The light grew larger and brighter and at some point I saw a figure within the light, inviting me into the light. There were no words yet I could hear a voice within, “Don’t be afraid. I am here with you. You are safe.”

The voice filled me with peace and wholeness. Then I saw the figure’s face, a face of pure kindness, compassion, and love. I entered the light and in doing so, became the light. I knew I was in the Presence of God and could stay there forever.

The light blinded, but the figure’s shadow covered and protected me. The voice came from within, distant and faint growing ever louder.

“Don’t be afraid. I am here with you. You are safe.”

The coolness on my lips and forehead returned. Someone washed my face. Dried blood cleared from my eyes and they opened. The light was the blazing sun. The shadow of a man bent over me and said, “Be still. You are injured. I am here to help you.”

I tried to talk but the intense pain in my jaw allowed only grotesque sounds. The man gently put one hand over my mouth and with the other raised one finger to his lips.

“No need to talk just now.”

His face came into focus, the face I had seen in the light, filled with kindness and compassion. Again, I felt the wholeness, the Presence of God.

Like a physician examining a patient, he touched my body in several places and asked each time.

“Is this painful?”

All I could manage in response were whispered sounds resembling “yes” and “no.” Each time I tried to say more he gently placed one hand on my mouth and raised a finger of the other to his lips.

We soon discovered that the most painful places were my ribs and jaw, both probably broken. The rest of my body was badly bruised, bloodied and sore, with several lacerations, especially around my face. Soon I was sitting up as he soothed my wounds with oil and wine.

“Can you ride?” he asked, pointing to a donkey standing a few feet away.

I nodded, not really knowing whether I could or not.

He helped me to my feet and on to the donkey. Pain filled my body. My head began to spin. Lying across the donkey’s back, blood rushed to my head. Again there was merciful darkness.

The next thing I remember were the voices of the Stranger and another man. They both took me from the donkey and into a house. Inside they lay me on a soft pallet where the Stranger again gently poured water in my clenched mouth and nursed my wounds with oil and wine.

“You are safe now,” he said to me.

I looked into his face filled with light, and I knew I was safe.

In semiconsciousness I heard the Stranger and the other man talking. It soon became clear we were at an inn and the man was the innkeeper.

The Stranger gave him some money and said, “Please care for him and when I return I will repay you whatever you spend.”

“What is his name?” the innkeeper asked.

That’s when I realized that the Stranger had never once asked for my name or where I was from.

“I don’t know,” the Stranger said. “Perhaps you can discover this when he is able to talk.”

The Stranger came to me, looked into my eyes and said softly, “Don’t be afraid. You are safe.” The same words the figure in the light had used. His face then became that now familiar light of love. And then he added, “You were lost but now found, dead but now alive.”

I wanted the Stranger to know who I was. I tried to say my name, but the words stayed in my mind.

As the Stranger turned to leave, I spoke but no one heard me. “I am Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth.”

Then he was gone, but I was not afraid and I knew I was safe for I had been in the Presence of God . . .

Selah