Читать книгу A Hero's Heart - Joseph David Hightower - Страница 8

When Heru next awoke, it was to the gentle sound of lapping water and a gentle breeze. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see an old man kneeling next to him. As the old man gently helped Heru to sit up and take a long drink of the fresh clear water he got his first look at the man’s appearance. He had long brown hair with no highlights and on his face a faint trace of a thin brown beard. The old man was dressed in strange clothing, nothing at all like the clothing that the people of his village wear. He was wearing a light, almost translucent, blue robe that fell past his feet to drag the ground and a belt that was cinched tightly around his waist. After a close inspection, Heru could relax, sensing that this man was safe, and there to offer help. He stopped to wonder about his mother’s teachings for a moment, “Could this be the Jesus that she spoke of, had he died in the fall and was now in heaven?”

Almost as if reading his mind, the old man started to laugh, and still chuckling under his breath, looked Heru in the eyes and in the softest, most tranquil voice that Heru had ever heard said, “No, you are not dead. You are still very much alive; now hold still while I continue to wrap your hands.”

At the mention of his hands, Heru suddenly remembered what had happened to them and a sudden surge of unbearable pain spread throughout his body, fully engulfing him in its blinding grip. He looked up with a bewildered expression in his eyes and asked the old man, “Who are you and just why you are helping me?”

“Well that’s an interesting question. Some call me helper, comforter, or healer, but you, you can call me friend if you would like to. If you need a name to call me, you can call me Yeshua. I am a carpenter here in the village. The waterfall that we are next to help me to be able to complete my work easier. That’s what I was doing when you fell from the top of the mountain. You landed in the center of the pool and I pulled you out and laid you down here in the soft grass. It took a little doing but I think you will be as good as new in just a few days. You’ll have to take it easy with those hands but other than that I didn’t find any other injuries.” Yeshua said as he finished the last wrap on Heru’s hands.

He got to his feet and reached a hand down to help Heru to his feet and held on a moment longer until Heru regained his balance. As Heru and Yeshua gazed into each other’s eyes, it seemed as if Yeshua could see straight into the very soul of Heru. Heru had to turn away from those piercing eyes because they seemed to cut straight though him. The sounds of the waterfall grew softer and the light gentler and as Heru watched Yeshua come closer, everything seemed to fade away and nothing but a soft whispering breeze could be felt. Yeshua reached out and took Heru by the hand and in a still small voice said, “You are still dreaming Heru, and when you awake your life will be changed. Remember, if ever you should find yourself in trouble, all you need to do is call out to the Father and you will be saved.” Heru collapsed in a heap at Yeshua’s feet, and with a small whisper over Heru, Yeshua turned and walked back into His village.

Heru opened his eyes to the bright familiar sunshine of his home, the Lotus Village. He looked around in confusion, trying to figure out how he came to be back home. It must have all been a dream, he thought, but when he looked down, an astonishing amount of pain filled him at the sight of his tightly bandaged hands. Struggling to his feet he noticed that he was standing on the top of the mountain with the ancestral temple behind him. Stumbling in confusion he went over to the steep stairs and started the long journey down. Upon reaching the last step he noticed the basket of sacrificial offerings was lying on its side and the contents scattered everywhere. Suddenly, Heru remembered the promise that Yeshua had given to him, “The Father is always with you.” and remembering that, he immediately thought of his own father and the promise given by the ancestral spirits. He took off at a dead run in fear of what he would find upon returning.