40-Phoenecian-A

And We Thought We Knew You:
Soul Journey With the Real Jesus

Phoenician Girl
A NEW AGE DAWNING

April AD 27
Capernaum, Galilee

�� Things are not going well for the new movement.� King Herod, tetrarch of Galilean and Perean provinces, has executed John the Baptizer. [1]� The new kingdom of God is in jeopardy.� What if he tries to get Jesus next?

�� Then there are the theologians, especially those from the

Temple.� They're no better.� Those leaders of the Jews.� Those authors of religious amendments and editors of religious commentaries.� Those speakers at feasts for God.� Those organizers of religious gatherings. [2]

�� Those spiritual giants are trying to trump up charges against Jesus of heresy.� He must be executed.� They might be able to come up with some kind of charge of treason and hand him over to the Romans to do the executing.� No matter what it takes.� He's smearing their good name.� He must be dealt with and stopped.� For the sake of their religion.�

�� So, for the first time since he was eleven years old, Jesus stays away from the Passover celebration in Jerusalem.� He hates to do it, but he must.� For the sake of the movement. [3]

�� Great time!� Great celebration!� Praise the Lord!� You should have gone, Jesus! [4]

�� His absence makes the Jerusalem theologians angry.� They must change their strategy.� So, if he won't go there to them, they will come to him.� They arrive to see what evidence they can get against Jesus.� If he won't come to them, they'll go to him.

�� "Why are you breaking the traditions and creeds of the religious fathers, Jesus?" they ask ever so piously. [5]

�� Jesus becomes angry.� What audacity.� What arrogance.� And they call themselves religious.

�� "You hypocrites!� You're always asking for money.� The priests need this, the Levites need that, the Temple needs repaired, the golden censors need replaced.� Money, money, money.� It does not matter if the money is needed to support families.� 'Give it to the Temple,' you say, "for that makes God happier.'� Nonsense!" [6]

�� "You hypocrites!� You talk about ceremonial cleansings.� You say people should be ceremonially cleansed.� True.� I was. [7]� But you don't do anything about changed lives.� You don't try to get rid of money hunger and selfishness." [8]

�� "You hypocrites!� You build great synagogues supposedly to the glory of God, but you fill them with spiritually dead people following your example." [9]

�� "You hypocrites!� You honor the great scripture scholars of past centuries in public.� But you refuse to tell the people everything because you really disagree with much of what these great godly people said." [10]

�� Now the Temple theologians are on the counter-attack.� Jesus hears their accusations.� He and his followers are not conventional.� Not mainline.� He advocates they change the way they serve God and become saved.� He is the hypocrite, not them.� He is not for religious unity.� Jesus is a heretic from the word go.� He does not honor religious tradition and creeds.

�� If Jesus was angry before, it was nothing compared with now.� The veins stick out on his neck.� He will not back down.� He will finish what they started.

�� "You are such hypocrites!" he rebuts.� "It is you that Isaiah prophesied about.� You pretend to pay holy homage to God with your words and claims, but you are really God's enemies!"

�� His voice grows louder.� He points his finger at them.� "Your worship services are meaningless because you teach people what you want instead of what God wants, then claim it is doctrine.� You refuse to do what God clearly says in his scriptures, so you can get people to do what you want them to do."

�� "You are so polite and holy sounding, but you obstruct the very words of God to observe your own religious traditions and creeds." [11]

�� The Temple theologians get into a huff and leave.� Jesus stays in his huff and leaves too.� In private Nathaniel says, "Don't you realize you insulted them?"

�� Of course Jesus knows.� They have insulted God.� They have even insulted the intelligence of people well able to read the scriptures for themselves, and deep down know they are being taught wrong.�

�� These theologians attract and control the people that way.� They can intimidate common worshippers and make them believe they're going to hell if they don't follow those religious traditions and creeds.

�� "Well, now that you've made them mad," says James, loving every minute of the confrontation, "what are we going to do?" [12]

�� James the fighter does not like what he hears.� The strategy is to take two steps forward and one back.� Now is the time to take one back. �Jesus retreats to the hills on the other side of the Sea of Galilee.� Still it does no good.� The common people follow him, trying to find a true theologian.� Deep down they do know the difference.� He teaches them, heals them, and feeds thousands from nothing.�

�� He must send the thousands home and retreat farther away.� His life is in danger.� The government is after him.� Herod has already executed John the Baptizer.� Jesus is next.� He must get all the way out of the territory of Herod and his informants.� He must get all the way out of the territory of the religious leaders with informants of their own.�

�� The palace does not bother too much with Phoenicia.� Neither does the Temple.� It is not worth it.� It is pagan. [13]

�� Jesus and his future cabinet head for Mexico.� Jesus can regroup over there by the Mediterranean.� There are a lot of pagans living there.� Still, they wonder what the God of the Jewish scriptures is really like.� Does he ever notice them?� They don't go to synagogue, you know.� They feel out of place there.

�� But Satan is present in Phoenicia too, Jesus.� You cannot escape him.� Why Phoenicia?� It's far too worldly over there.� All those Greek buildings and dirty ship docks.� And people talking in a foreign language.� Why Phoenicia? [14]

�� Retreat, yes.� But why not Alexandria, Egypt, where all those ancient scripture manuscripts are?� Or in Babylon where the Garden of Eden was?� Or high up on Mount Ararat where Noah's ark settled?� Why pagan Phoenicia with nothing to offer you?��

That is where the woman is.� And the little girl.� Jesus can hear them now as he make his way across the country in their direction.� He has been hearing them.

�� He is coming.� Don't give up.� He is coming....

Tyre, Phoenicia [15]

�� Ophrah has just said her morning prayers.� The sun is coming up sooner now that it is spring, and she is grateful for that.� But this is also a sign that the days will be hotter and hotter.� It's more difficult, then, for her to keep Delilah clean. [16]

�� Delilah is mostly paralyzed, though not completely.� The parts not paralyzed she cannot control ~ her head and arms.

�� She was not born with it, though.� Strangely it happened almost overnight a couple years ago.� It is not supposed to happen that way.� But with Delilah, strangely it did.�

�� Poor Delilah.� Poor, poor Delilah.� What has happened to her?� Poor Delilah.� Delilah with the black hair and black eyes and creamy white skin.

�� Delilah now sits on a pad in the floor most of the day.� Her head falls over to one side because she has trouble holding it up.� Her arms jerk in uncontrolled spasms periodically.� It is so embarrassing.�

�� What is even more embarrassing is the drooling.� Oh how Delilah hates the drooling.� Her mother keeps a handkerchief in her hand that is large enough that she can swipe it in the general direction of her mouth and chin and keep herself wiped off with some vague semblance of dignity.

�� Then there's the incontinence.� She wears diapers.� Humiliating diapers.� Mortifying diapers.� Mother must change them several times a day.� They both hate it.� How they hate those filthy diapers.

�� Jesus is coming.� Hang in there, Ophrah and Delilah.

�� Delilah has spunk.� She smiles the best she can.� Her parents even arranged for her to attend a private school.� She goes.� She does the best she can.

�� Mother has just finished dressing her and feeding her breakfast.

�� "My perpetual baby," Ophrah smiles.� "Such a sweet, sweet baby."

�� But Delilah objects.� She scowls with her eyes.� She forms words of objection.� "Nah bay!� Nah bay!"

�� "Oh, so you're not my baby," her mother responds teasingly.� "Then you are my what?"

�� "Bih guh!� Bih guh!"

�� "My big girl?"

�� Delilah nods her head in agreement, and giggles awkwardly.

�� "Hmmmm, it must be time to head for school."

�� Ophrah places a basket onto Delilah's mat, and in it places her scrolls and a lunch.

�� "Ready or not, here we come!"

�� She carries her daughter out the door and to a waiting cart already hitched up to the donkey.

�� Ophrah stops right at the door of the school.� She takes Delilah into her classroom, kisses her good-bye, and leaves.

�� Delilah is now alone.� Alone to face the other students.� The good the bad.� The kind and inconsiderate.� The gracious and the thoughtless.�

�� "Hey, Spaz!"

�� She pretends not to hear and stares the other way at the walls.� The bare walls.� The agonizing walls who never smile at her.� She has stared at them for relief a hundred times.� She will again.

�� "Hey, jerk head!"� The girls laugh.

�� She spills her basket on purpose so she can get to her things.

�� "Look at me, everyone!� I'm a lame brain!"� The boy waddles his head from side to side.�

�� She puts out both hands to turn upright a tablet on which her mother had written her assignments.

�� "Peeugh!"� A girl squeezes her nose.� Others follow suit.

�� Her head jerks back, and for several minutes she cannot read or focus her eyes on anything.

�� "Eeeek!� Eeeek!"� A boy jumps in front of her and stares at her relentlessly as though horrified of her.

�� She sorts through her three scrolls looking for the one that will be used first.

�� Suddenly her scrolls are scattered on the floor beside her.� Someone has taken off his sandal and thrown it at her scrolls.

�� Jesus arrives in to town.� Yes, he is closer, Ophrah and Delilah.� Jesus is closer.

�� Someone is walking toward Delilah.� What will it be this time?

�� "Leave her alone.� She's smarter than you, Gaius.� At least she's not failing half her subjects like someone I know."

�� A girl reaches out her hand and takes hold of Delilah's.� She sits down next to her.

�� "Good morning, Delilah and Artemis.� Glad to see you.� Got your assignments?"

�� Delilah smiles the best she can.� Artemis nods and smiles.� She sorts through Delilah's scrolls and props the proper one open.

�� By now Ophrah is at the market on her way home.

�� "A miracle!� A real miracle!� I was there!� I saw it for myself!"

�� A crowd quickly gathers around the woman.� Phoebe is among them.

�� "He must have fed ten or fifteen thousand of us.� And all with only five rolls and two dried fish!"

�� "Impossible!"

�� "Of course it is.� It was a miracle.� A real miracle.� It happened just last week.� I was there.� I know."

�� "Who did it?"

�� "Jesus of Nazareth over in Galilee.� People say he is a direct descendant of David, the second king of the Jews back in ancient times." [17]

�� "Is he the one claiming he's going to start a new kingdom and be its king?"

�� "Well, if his ancestors were kings, maybe he can pull it off."

�� "I heard he says making him king is the only way they can enter heaven."

�� "Heaven?� What does that have to do with it?"

�� "He claims his will be the kingdom of heaven."

�� "Sounds arrogant to me.� How dare he say making him king is the only way to get to heaven." [18]

�� "Yeah, what about those pagans down in Africa who probably haven't heard about him, and probably never will?"

�� "I heard he reads your mind.� So if he reads minds, maybe he knows who would have made him king had they known about him." [19]

�� "You wouldn't think he'd leave people out of heaven from ignorance." [20]

�� "Do you believe in heaven?"

�� "Yeah, I think I do.� Though I don't know what it is.� But it seems there has to be something after struggling here until we die."

�� "I heard that Jesus heals people too."

�� "You don't believe all that, do you?"

�� The shop owner interrupts everyone.� "Hey, if you're not going to buy anything, get away from my booth.� How am I supposed to do business here?"

�� Ophrah finishes her grocery shopping for the day and heals for home.� But she cannot get that Jesus out of her mind.� What if he really did that miracle?� What if he really has powers over diseases.� What if?� What if....

�� "Oh, God, whoever you are, is it possible?"

�� Whoever God is....� How can anyone possibly know?� There are temples everywhere to all kinds of gods.� Are there many gods?� One God?� Is this Jesus ~ if he really did perform a miracle ~ a god? [21]

�� She has read some speculation about the gods.� The Jews are the only ones who claim to have the actual words of their God.� None of the other gods ever gave people anything like that.� People are just left to guess.� She has read a little of the Jews' scriptures.� But not much. [22]

�� What's the use of trying to figure out all the gods and religions?� It can't be done.� There's really no evidence proving one is true and the others are not.

�� Ophrah has tried to comprehend it all the best she could.� She never goes to church.� She has known about the religion of North America, but just never attended.� Too many rules.� Too many things going on in the worship she doesn't understand.�

�� Besides, none of the temples or synagogues have arrangements for the handicapped.� Adults, maybe.� Children, definitely no.� Must Delilah be grown before she's accepted by a temple?� If ever?

�� A knock on her gate.� A message from Delilah's school.

�� "You must come get Delilah.� She had another accident."

�� "What happened?" Ophrah wonders, not really wanting to read the rest of the message.

�� "She had what seems to be a seizure.� She rolled off her mat and on top the floor.� And her diaper...."

�� "Oh, no...."

�� "Her diaper broke open.� We are sorry.� She cannot continue to attend school here."

�� Ophrah drops the message onto the floor.� Helplessly.� Helplessly in tears.� How can she and Aries go on like this?� How can Delilah go on like this?� It has been two years.� Two years of hell.� And, instead of getting better, things seem to be getting worse.� Where will it end?� Will it ever end?

�� "Oh God, whoever you are.� Help us.� Help Delilah.� What are we going to do?� Delilah does not deserve this.� We don't� No one does.� God, why is this happening?� Please, help us.� Please, God...."

�� Ophrah can hardly see.� She can hardly detect which streets to turn onto.� Hopefully her donkey has learned the way.

�� But there is someone who can see her.� He is just entering her part of the city.� Jesus sees her from where he is.

�� Ophrah arrives at the school.� "Please don't make Delilah leave.� She has never had a seizure before.� It's unrelated to her problem.� Please."

�� "She's in the courtyard."� Ophrah finds her.� Delilah is waiting for her mother in tears.

�� "Au Mah, Au Mah.� Sah-hee.� Sah-hee."

�� "Oh, sweetheart, I know you're sorry.� But it wasn't your fault."� The two embrace.� Then Ophrah gets her daughter back onto the cart and heads back home.� She sets her on the floor next to her bed and checks her diapers.� A new one is put in place.

�� "You're going to need a bath.� I'll get some clean clothes out for you."

�� Delilah is still crying.� "Sah-hee.� Sah-hee."

�� "Don't be sorry, sweetheart.� You're a good girl.� Mama loves you."

�� Sometimes it is so difficult to say those words.� More and more together mother and daughter struggle.� Struggle for dignity.� Struggle to survive it all.

�� Finally the job is done, and Delilah is ready to sit out in the courtyard awhile.� There are some birds playing in a pan of wash water.� She likes that.�

�� Ophrah goes to a water vat to get some water.� She hears a crash.� Running back out to the courtyard, Ophrah sees the wash water spilled over and little girl in the throes of a seizure.� Head shaking worse than ever.� Arms shaking worse than ever.� Legs ~ atrophied legs ~ shaking.� In the jaws of Satan.� Satan is so gleeful, he cannot sit still.

�� The diapers break open once again.� But Delilah has not had them on long enough for them to do any damage.� Ophrah kneels down on the ground and holds her daughter's head so the seizure does not hurt her.�

�� Finally it is over, but Ophrah holds her daughter still.� Back and forth she rocks as she tries to protect Delilah from herself.� Back and forth....� Back and forth....

�� All is quiet.� Except for the crying.� Ophrah crying.� Delilah crying.� Jesus even crying as he walks past her daughter's school.

�� "Oh, God...."

�� Finally Ophrah's emotional strength returns and she picks up her daughter's mat.� Then she picks up Delilah.� Delilah with her tiny frame and bent body.� Delilah with the shakings and tremblings and breaking heart.

�� Settled back on her mat, Delilah collects herself and motions that she is okay now.

�� Ophrah decides to look down the street to see if there are any flower peddlers.� Flowers always cheer Delilah up.� She goes� out her gate and looks in both directions.� As she does, a group of men enters a neighboring house owned by a widow lady.� They disappear. [23]

�� Probably a dozen men.� Dressed as well-to-dos, fishermen, zealots, professionals, essenes ~ you name it.� What would motivate such a diverse group of men to travel together?

�� The widow, Ophrah remembers, is a Jewess.� Could it be?� Jesus' disappearance!� Could it be?� No one has seen him in a week.

�� No, he wouldn't be here in Tyre.� He sticks with his own kind.

�� Ophrah leans against the street-side wall of her house, continuing to stare at the neighbor's house.� Tears return.� Tears of helplessness.� Tears of desperation.

�� Could it be?� Could it possibly be Jesus?� Dare she hope it is he?� Dare she hope he really does perform miracles?� Dare she hope in the impossible?

�� No.� It is just her imagination.� And wishful thinking.� Not here.

�� She fights her tears until they retreat.� She knows what she must do.� She must try everything.� What if she goes to her grave knowing she did not at least try?

�� Ophrah runs into the house.�

�� "I'm going to get Diana to watch you a little while, Delilah," running in to get her shawl.� "I may have a surprise for you!� Pray that I do!"

�� Ophrah leaves and walks hurriedly down the street.� Hurriedly to a stranger.� Hurriedly to, well, perhaps to a miracle.� Her daughter's miracle.

�� "Please, make it be Jesus.� Please, make it be Jesus.� Please, make it be Jesus."� She pleads over and over and she makes her way closer to her destiny.

�� She knocks on the gate.� A dog barks inside.� A guard dog.� That does not scare off Ophrah.� Finally a man opens the gate, but just wide enough to see out.�

�� "Is there a man here named Jesus?"

�� The gate is closed without even a comment.� What's so secretive?� Who are they hiding in there? [24]

�� The dog continues to bark.

�� Ophrah knocks again.� No one returns.� She continues to knock.� Over and over.� She knows people are in there.� Knocking.� Knocking.� Knocking.

�� Finally, an annoyed man opens the gate again.� Slightly.

�� "Please, is Jesus in there?"

�� Again, no reply.� Again the gate is closed without a word.� Again, the dog barks.� How can they think Ophrah would be a threat to anyone?

�� Ophrah's breathing becomes labored as she tries to hold back the tears.� She's got to try.� Oh how she loves her little girl.� She must try.� She stood up to the school officials to get Delilah enrolled.� She stood up to them again to get a special place for her in the classroom.� She stood up to the neighbors, the market, shop keepers.� She can stand up to Jesus too.

�� Again the knocking.� Again the barking.� Again the obstinate stubbornness.

�� "I know you're in there," she cries out.� "Answer this gate!� I'm not leaving until you do."� Pounding.� Pounding.� Pounding.

�� Once again the gate is opened.� A little.� This time he yells out something over the noise of the barking.� "Go away!� This is a private home!� You're not wanted here!"

�� Ophrah puts her foot in the gateway.� "Yes, it's a private home.� But it's not your home.� I know who lives here, and it's not you."

�� "Sorry, we must be left alone.� We cannot allow you in," he shouts above the barking.

�� "It won't work.� I won't leave."

�� The man pushes Ophrah's foot out of the way with his own, then slams the door back shut.� This just confirms there is something or someone very unusual in that house.

�� Inside, everyone is angry.� How can they eat with all that commotion?�

�� "Can't they leave you alone down here, either, Jesus?"

�� "You've got to rest sometimes."

�� "And if the wrong people see you, it could be curtains."

�� "Don't they realize they're putting your life in jeopardy trying to identify you?"

�� Jesus does not answer.� He just continues to quietly eat his meal.� Everything under control.� Everything coming along just fine.� How can he be so peaceful when people seem to be coming out of the woodwork trying to get him for treason?

�� Undaunted, Ophrah walks to the next-door neighbor's house.� "May I go up on your roof a minute to see down the street?� I want to see if the flower peddler is nearby."

�� This is not completely the truth.� Ophrah will learn about truth later.� In fact, she will meet Truth. [25]

�� The neighbor happily lets her in, unconcerned about what is going on right next door to her.

�� Ophrah hurriedly climbs the stairs.� What if he sneaks out and leaves before she can identify him?� What if it really is Jesus over there?� She must find out.� She must know.

�� Down in the neighbor's courtyard are a group of men ~ maybe a dozen of them ~ eating.

�� "I was right!� It has to be him!" she cries to her disinterested neighbor.� "Oh, thank God, it's him!"� The neighbor wonders what all the excitement is about over a flower peddler, and doesn't give a second thought as to which god Ophrah was calling to.

�� Ophrah returns to the house.� But this time as soon as the gate is opened and while the man is still off guard, she ducks down so she is below his wide shoulders and pushes her way into the courtyard.

�� The doorman is surprised and turns around looking guilty.� "Sorry.� She surprised me."

�� But no one years her for the barking.

�� The widow of the house recognizes Phoebe and calls her dog to lie down.

�� The men are seated on old cushions gathered around a single table with a sparse meal on it.� Some stop eating and sit up to stare her down.� Others stand.� One keeps calmly eating.

�� Which one is he?�

�� "Jesus!" she says stubbornly.� She has gone this far with her brashness.� She will keep going.� "Which one of you is Jesus?"

�� No one answers.� They realize that, if she does not know which one Jesus is, she cannot report him to the authorities.

�� Undaunted, Ophrah looks at each man.� Most of them are rough looking.� Most of them look as though they'd give their life for their cause.� But what cause?� Jesus' cause?� If they would die for him, would they kill for him?

�� She must not be afraid.� Her little girl.� She must think of her little girl.� She cannot give up now.� She has got to try.� Anything for her little girl.

�� Her audacity mingles with anguish.

�� "One of you is the descendant of the Jewish King David.� One of you is going to be the next king of the Jews.� God is on your side.� I have heard about your miracles.� Please, which one of you is Jesus?"

�� Not a word.� Not a reply.� She waits no longer.

�� "Please, whichever one of you is Jesus, please help me!"

�� Still no reply.� The men go on eating as though she is not even there.� At least they're not booting her out.� But they're not talking either.

�� She can no longer fight back her tears.� Her weakness shows too much.� She had not wanted this.� She had wanted to be brave.

�� "I've prayed for God to help us.� You can do it, can't you, Jesus?� I'm not sure who God is.� But I'm sure he is out there.� Whichever one you are, you can do it."

�� Silence.� Search for Jesus.� You've been through so much.� Keep searching.��

�� "Please?"

�� Still silence.� Keep searching.� Searching through your tears and pain.� Through your daughter's tears and pain.� Do not let people get in your way.� Government officials or common folks.� Professionals or the unemployed.� The religious or the nonreligious.�

�� Although the men have all resumed eating, many of them fidget and eye Ophrah annoyed.� She goes around and looks at each man.� Oh, brother!� Someone has got to do something about this annoying woman!

�� Indeed she is a woman.� She knows faces. �She knows she will be able to tell.

�� "Please, are you Jesus?"

�� Go away, lady.

�� "Are you?"

�� Don't you know when you're not wanted?

�� "Perhaps you?"

�� We only take care of our own.

�� "Are you Jesus?";

�� Still not a word.

�� Tears now fought back once again.� Courage back.� Full strength.� Be stern.� Be forceful.� Win them over.

�� Phoebe stands up straight, crosses her arms and makes an announcement.

�� "I'm not leaving here until I get an answer!"

�� What a woman!

�� "I've got a daughter who has been living in hell."

�� Hell?� Is she exaggerating?

�� "A demon has taken hold of her and won't let her go.� She's getting worse.� Satan is not going to get by with it.� Not with my little girl!"

�� She marches around them.� So far so good.� She is still in the house.� Jesus surely is in the house too.� Why doesn't he kick her out?

�� Finally one of the men stands.� Ah, that must be Jesus.

�� She turns and stares at him.� He is annoyed.� "Now listen here, whoever you are...." He does not intimidate her.

�� "You're not him!" she interrupts.� "Quit acting like you are.� You can't save my daughter."

�� He walks over to someone still reclining at the table.

�� "Send her away!� She keeps annoying us!"

�� He stops eating and looks up at the first man.� "You're right!� I was sent to save only the religious!"

�� Then he looks over to Ophrah.

�� She stares at him.� Not a word from either.� She studies him.�

�� "It's you!� You're Jesus." [26]

�� He does not deny it.� He cannot deny it.� He is, indeed, Jesus.� But he says no more.� He merely goes back to eating.� It has been enough for her.

�� "Jesus," she repeats as she wedges her way between him and the man reclining on the other side.� She drops to her knees.� Now it is safe.� The tears are allowed to return.� They are never far away.

�� "Please, Jesus.� Help me!� Have some kind of pity on me.� It's my daughter.� A demon has entered her and is making her terribly disabled.� Help us." [27]

�� But Jesus is still eating.� He sops his plate and throws the piece of bread to the dog nearby.

�� "I'm not leaving here until you bless us!"� Her stubbornness is never far away either.

�� He continues to eat.� She will wait it out.� He cannot eat forever.� She can wait forever.� She will wait forever.

�� His meal finished, Jesus turns toward her and gives her his undivided attention.� She has earned it.� He is proud of her.

�� She becomes calmer.� It looks as though he is going to listen to her.� Now, at last, she can put her guard down.

�� "Please help my daughter.� Please, I beg you."

�� "First let the children of God be satisfied.� It isn't fair to take their food and throw it to the dogs." [28]

�� Undaunted by what looks like an argument brewing, she replies.� "You're probably right.� But you have already been helping them.� How about the starving animals now?� If you think I'm an animal, I deserve to be fed too.� At least give my daughter a single morsel of healing." [29]

�� Jesus smiles.� He wasn't really planning to argue with her.� He looks at her with piercing, yet loving eyes.� Then his look becomes stern.� Like he's looking past her.� Like he sees something she does not see.� Like he's encountering the demon.� Maybe even Satan himself.

�� Ophrah waits.� His friends wait.� Delilah back home waits.� A battle is brewing.

�� It begins.� Delilah back in her room down the street begins to shake rolls off her bed onto the bare floor.� She shakes harder than ever before.� Uncontrollably.� She shrieks.� What's wrong?�

�� Diana runs to her and kneels on the floor.� She does not know what to do.� She panics.� Still Delilah shakes and shrieks.� Uncontrollably.� What is happening?

�� Ophrah is still.

�� Diana does not know what to do.� She fears the worst.

�� Is she dead?� No.� Something died.� But it was not her.� Delilah has just come back to life.�

�� She opens her eyes and smiles.� A controlled smile.� A special smile.�

�� "Diana, help me up," her soft little voice whispers.

�� "Delilah!� You spoke!� I understood you!� What's happened?"

�� Diana kneels on the floor and puts her hand behind Delilah's head to help support her.� But Delilah pushes Diana's hand away.� ��

"Just pull!� That's all I need.� Pull me up, Diana!� Pull me up!"

�� And back down the street in the secret house that is no longer a secret, a refugee from his own nation and his own religion speaks.�

�� "Dear lady.� Your faith is so great."

�� Her faith is great?� How can that be?� She is a pagan.� She does not even know for sure which god is the true God.� She has only a slight inkling what the Jewish God is.� Faith?� How can she have faith?� It's all wrong.

�� "It is as you desire," Jesus explains.� "Go on home now.� The demon is out of your daughter." [30]

�� Ophrah knows.� Ophrah believes.� She is jumping up, she is rushing out the gate.� Now she is returning.� She is bowing down to Jesus.� He has saved her life.� She has saved her daughter's life.� What a savior!

�� Now she is rushing back to the gate.� Now racing up the street.�

�� Run, Ophrah!� Run to your daughter!� To your whole daughter! To your healed daughter! Run, Ophrah!� Run to your little Delilah!

�� Ophrah is now at her own gate.

�� "Delilah!" she shouts as she unlatches it.� "Delilah!"� She is running inside her house, leaving the gate wide open.� Delilah is not in the courtyard watching the birds.�

�� "Where's Delilah?"

�� "She's in her bedroom."

�� "Bedroom?� She's not sick any more!"

�� Ophrah rushes into her daughter's room.� Delilah is lying still.� But she is not dead.� She is more alive than ever.� Her atrophied legs are now full again.� Her arms are lying straight at her side.� Her head is resting peaceful on a pillow.� And her smile is lingering on her pretty face. [31]

�� "I'm okay now, Mama.� He's gone.� The demon's gone.� I'm okay, Mama.� I'm well."

�� "Yes, I know.� Jesus did it for you."

�� "Jesus?� Is he a priest?� A monk?� A holy hermit?"

�� "No, my sweety.� He does not have any religious titles.� He's just Jesus.� He's not His Holiness anything.� Just Jesus."

�� "Then how did he do this for me?"

�� "This man, Jesus does not need to be like the others.� He is reverend.� But not because people call him that.� He is reverend because....� because....� because he is directly from God."

�� The next day Jesus rises at dawn.� Peter wakes and sees him.� He gets up and calls to the others.�

�� "Time to leave?"

�� "Looks like it."

�� "But we haven't been here long."

�� "Well, now that he has done one miracle, the word will spread.� He must stay in hiding."

�� For the sake of the soon-coming new age.

�� "Where to next?"

�� "Syria."

�� LIFE APPLICATION

1.�� There are many religions in the world.� Surely, if there is a supreme being ~ God ~ he would have a way of letting us know about his existence, especially if he cares anything about us.� do not rely on hearsay for something so important.� Go to the library and check out a book of Buddhist writings, a book of Hindu writings, a book of Muslim writings, and the Bible.� Scan them.� See if you can find anything in them that is provable ~ names, dates, places, prophecies, recently-discovered scientific facts.

2.�� How long have you been searching for truth?� How long are you willing to continue searching?� How hard are you willing to continue searching?� If there is an afterlife, how badly do you want to know ahead of time about it?

3.�� Sometimes we decide to help a younger person do something, but we do not do it right away, partly so we can see how badly they want it, and partly so they can develop some stick-to-it-ness.� Relate this to how God helps us through things.

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