Wisdom From John
IS THIS THE DAY?
(Part 1)
With tired weathered hands, he placed another piece of wood upon the dying fire, a small cloud of sparks rose into the night sky. It was always colder before sunrise, and the old man could not shake off the cold like he did as a young man. As if talking to an old friend, he quietly spoke to the fire, "Where are the crowds? Is it possible I have I traveled to the wrong place, again?"
From the shadows outside the circle of light came a sound that he knew all too well. The boy was having another dream and there was nothing more the old man could do, not until the sun rose. He had carried the boy for miles and his aging body could go no further without rest. The boy would be alright for now, morning would soon be here, so the old man slowly turned his attention back to the fire.
The cold desert wind teased the flames; embers came to life and then faded away as the wind moved on to other places. Worn down and beaten, the old man had no strength left and just stared into the glowing embers. With scarred, calloused hands, he clutched the tattered blanket tighter as a gust of wind invaded his warmth.
"Stay awake old man," he commanded, as he forced his eyes to open wide. He could not be late again. For the boy's sake, this time he had to be right. There would not be another time. No, this was their last chance.
The boy's entrance into the world had held such promise, the first child to be born in his family. The boy had been born with coal, black hair, dark eyes and the face of an angel. His father had been so proud. A smile came to the old man's face as he remembered holding his grandson for the first time. But, that was ten years ago and, at the time of his birth, who could have known that the boy would never walk, never would he stand beside the others and take his place.
The doctors had tried their best but there was no cure for the boy. Day after day the boy had sat by the door, watching and waiting, hoping a miracle would come to him for he could not go in search of it. The old man had talked with his son many times but his son would have nothing to do with the boy. The boy was a cripple and could not work the fields. He would be a beggar and shame would forever rest upon the family.
Again, the old man heard the boy stirring and turned in his direction. "Grandfather, is it time to go?" the boy asked. "No, my child, not yet," the old man replied. "Close your eyes now and rest. Soon, we will need all our strength."
The old man breathed in the night air and wondered if this time they would find their miracle. Looking into the night sky he could tell that morning was approaching. They would have to be gone from this place before the sun rose if they were to reach their destination by the appointed time.
(Part 2)
The old man felt himself falling and jerk himself upright. How could he have fallen asleep? Quickly, he looked to the night sky and tried to determine how long he had been asleep. A branch in the fire popped and sparks leaped from the dying flames. Judging by the sky and fire, he had not been asleep long.
The boy had gotten himself up from where he had been sleeping and, using only the strength of his arms, was pulling himself up beside the old man. "Grandfather, are you all right?" the boy asked. "I saw you holding your chest again. Has the pain returned?"
The old man shook his head. He did not want the boy to know that the pain in his chest had grown more painful. He knew the boy would try to get him to rest and they had come too far to stop now. In his heart, the old man knew that today could be the day of their miracle.
"This could be the day," the old man told the boy. Excitement lit up the boy's face. His smile warmed the old man's heart. "Grandfather, is this the day? Do you really think we will find my miracle today?"
The old man opened his blanket and pulled the boy close to him. "Grandson, every day holds the possibility of a miracle. Today could just be your day." The boy put his arms around the old man and they held each other, each silently praying for the other.
As far back as the boy could remember the old man's faith had given him strength and sheltered him from the taunts of the other children. His Grandfather had always been by his side, and his love for the old man was strong.
As they watched the dancing flames, neither spoke. Neither one wanted to express the disappointment they had both felt three days before when they had arrived too late and been turned away by the soldiers. The soldiers had sent them away, telling them to go home, there was nothing left to see.
Some from the village had told them to stay, "Watch with us and see what happens," they said. "Who knows, maybe the stories are true." But, walking away from the old man and boy, the villagers had laughed and the boy had heard them mocking the old man. "Only foolish old woman believe in rumors and fables," they mocked. "Take the cripple home," one yelled back. "It's over."
As if stabbed with a spear, the man and boy were suddenly shaken back to the present by the exploding roar of thunder. The old man surprised by the deafening clap of thunder looked to the night sky. To his amazement there was not a cloud in the sky and only stars could be seen in the moonless night sky.
"Lord protect us," whispered the old man. The boy looked into the worried face of the old man and asked, "Grandfather, has it begun? Is this the sign we have been waiting for?"
"Come, my son. We must go quickly," the old man replied as he pulled the boy up onto his shoulders. "We must hurry. We cannot be late again, not today."
(Part 3)
With the sound of thunder echoing through the valley, the old man began the climb up the steep slope, the boy sitting upon his shoulders. Loose gravel spilled out from beneath the old man's feet causing him stumble. Catching his balance, he began to pray, "Lord help us … help me to make this last climb … for the boy's sake, Lord … help us."
With a sense of urgency, the old man continued the climb; each step a struggle. With each step came new pain to his tired and worn body. Muscles cried out for him to stop and rest. Determination drove him on. On his forehead, droplets of sweat formed and seemed intent upon tormenting him; dripping into his eyes they blurred his vision.
His breathe came in gasps. Lesser men would have yielded to the body's demand to stop. With clinched teeth, the old man took one step after another. "You must not fail old man," he told himself, and pulling the last measure of strength from the spirit that dwells deep within a man, he moved ever so slowly up the slope.
Suddenly, as if kicked by a mule, he grabbed at his chest. Pain shot across his chest, radiating down his arm. His face distorted by the agony that tore at every fiber in his body. Falling to his knees stones cut deep into his legs, but he felt no pain: his mind had already shut out the pain.
As if in a trance, the old man willed himself back to his feet. The boy heavy upon his shoulders, began to weep. "Grandfather…Stop. You must stop, Grandfather," the boy begged. "No more, Grandfather. You must put me down. Please, Grandfather I beg you….Stop."
The old man could no longer hear the boy's plea. His eyes focused on the top of the ridge, the old man walked on. Halfway there now, he forced his legs to take another step. One step … one more step he took: then another step. One step after another he struggled onward toward the summit. The pleading boy went unanswered.
To the old man there was just one remaining thing he had to do … reach the top of the hill. For the boy he had to reach the top. With eyes intently staring upon the ridge, he took another step forward; then another, loose stones tumbling down the slope behind them. The old man took a step; then another.
Finally, with his last step, the old man gently fell to his knees and, easing the boy from his shoulders, he lowered the boy onto the top of the ridge. With his mission complete, the old man's body collapsed into the dust. There was no pain to be felt for the spirit was gone.
The boy cried out in grief, begging the old man not to leave him alone. But, the old man was no longer there. Sobbing, consumed by grief the boy hung his head and wept. In a last act of love, the boy's tears fell upon the old man's face washing away the dust that comes from a journey completed.
Suddenly, a second deafening clap of thunder pierced the air, shaking the ground beneath the boy. Startled, he looked up and saw two soldiers running uphill toward him. He could see fear in their eyes, panic on their faces. They ran as if chased by demons. Never had the boy witnessed such fear.
Curious as to why the soldiers had deserted their post, the boy squinted to see through the darkness and down into the valley. As if he could answer, the boy asked, "Grandfather, what is happening? Why are the soldiers running away?"
As if the morning sun had broken from behind a mountain range, the boy was blinded by a flash that erupted from the valley below. Shielding his face from the light, his mind filled with unanswered questions, the boy tried to make sense out of what he saw. Never….Never, had he seen such a light. Where had it come from?
(Part 4)
The two soldiers had almost reach the crest of the hill and the boy could hear them panting as they charged toward him. Calling out to them, the boy begged them to help his grandfather but, with eyes wide and more like stampeding animals than fierce warriors, they ran past the boy. The boy watched them disappear into the darkness and returned his attention to the valley from which the flash of light had come.
The valley was again shrouded in darkness and the boy was utterly alone except for the wind and the night sky. Tears welled up in the boy's eyes as a sense of hopeless surrounded him. "Grandfather, what am I to do now?" the boy whispered softly. "There is no one to carry me, no one who will want a crippled boy." And, without another word the boy laid his head down on the now still chest of his grandfather.
The boy had no sooner laid his head down when he heard a gentle voice asking, "My child, why do you cry?" Opening his eyes the boy looked upon the figure of a man. Rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision of tears, he tried to make sense of what he saw. Who was this man and from where did he come? Only the guards had been in the cemetery these past three days and, being the holy days, no one else dared to come near the forbidden grounds.
Again, the man with the gentle voice asked, "Tell me child, why do you cry?" The boy straightened himself and sitting upright began to tell the stranger about the journey that he and his grandfather had made in search of a miracle. Tears and disappointment again came to the surface as the boy told the stranger of how three days before they had missed the teacher, the one who healed the sick and now that grandfather was dead, all hope for a miracle was lost.
Kneeing beside the boy, the stranger with the gentle voice asked, "My child, do you believe that all things are possible with God?" Puzzled by the question, the boy slowly replied, "Yes, my lord. That is why grandfather and I came to this place. We were told that the man of God, whom the leaders had killed, would rise up from the dead with power from on high and maybe he would show mercy and heal me."
"Child, who do you believe this teacher, this man of God to be?" the stranger asked. "Grandfather and I believe that he is the Messiah of Israel, my lord," the boy replied, "and we have come to his tomb to be here when he arises from the dead."
"Look at me, my child," the stranger commanded, and the boy looked up from the ground and into the eyes of the stranger. Suddenly, the boy was filled with wonderment, a strange, warming sensation began to flow through his veins and his heart began to pound. The boy became aware that something miraculous was happening to him that he could not understand but he felt no fear, only a sense of peace.
As if lifted by an invisible hand, the boy was lifted to his feet and the stranger with the gentle voice said, "Arise and walk my child, for your faith has made you whole."
With gaping mouth, his words lost in a storm of emotions, the boy stood for the very first time. Looking toward heaven the boy's lips silently whisper praises to God. Overwhelmed by the moment, tears of sorrow were replaced by tears of joy. With arms uplifted, the boy began to sing praises, "Praise be onto God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and David. I lift my voice in praise to You alone, O' God. You are the living God, the God Most High, praise be onto Your Holy Name."
Lowering his eyes, the boy looked to where the gentle stranger had stood, but he was gone. Quickly, the boy looked around, but the stranger was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled by the disappearing stranger, the boy looked down to his legs and slapped them to see if he were dreaming: the sting of the slap confirmed the miracle was real.
As if he could hear, the boy called out to his grandfather, "Grandfather, I'm healed. I can walk grandfather, I can really walk! Look grandfather, I can dance like King David danced!" A smile lit up the boy's face as he danced around the still body of his grandfather. And, then he stopped and knelt down beside the body of the old man.
Quietly, he whispering to the old man, "Grandfather, you were right. The Messiah has come and He has healed me. You were right and the others were wrong: Thank you grandfather, thank you for being my strength and leading me to the Messiah."
On the horizon, the sun rose to start the new day, a day like no other day before it. The boy hearing a commotion in the valley below looked down to see several women standing in the place where the soldiers had stood the day before. The women were looking into the tomb that had been guarded by the soldiers.
As he watched the unfolding scene below, a smile as bright as the morning sun began to grace his face. The women began to dance and shout and then as one they turned and ran toward the village. The shouts from below began to echo though the valley and the boy began to laugh for joy.
Echoing throughout the valley came the shouts of the women, "He's alive. He's alive. Praise God, Jesus has risen and He is alive!" Then, as the women disappeared down the path, the boy looked to heaven and replied, "Yes, yes I know He has and so has my grandfather."
