My faith in God had grown to the point of believing anything was possible. Following the teaching of Jesus had brought me to the better life I’d hoped for, but something He said had me suspecting there was an even greater life to be found. Jesus said, “Anyone who believes in me will do the same works I have done and even greater works.” The possibilities of that excited me knowing the works of Jesus included healing people, some of whom had already died! I was also highly intrigued by what the greater works could be. In Faithville, a brave attempt to share my faith with a dying friend turned out to be my first step toward doing the works of Jesus.
I’d been reading the book All About Jesus, compiled by Roger Quy. The book combines the accounts from the four gospel writers; Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, so they can be read straight through as one continuous story. Having all the details of each story together in one place made it easier for me to grasp the amazing things that happened without having to be looking up the accompanying story continually. The book was also written in an easy to understand interpretation with a reference chart in the back that showed where to find the same stories in the Bible if I wanted to compare.
I liked the book so much that I decided to bravely share it with my next door neighbor. Frances had spent several weeks in the hospital with complications from surgery. Jim and I had visited her as she moved around from hospital to rehabilitation to convalescent home, and finally to hospice. All we heard from her was how much she wanted to walk. She’d been through physical therapy and tried to keep her legs strong, but she’d been in bed so long that her muscles had begun to atrophy and was told therapy would no longer help. That’s when I got the idea to bring her the All About Jesus book, thinking it would give her something to do and might actually help build her faith for a miracle.
Even though Frances was a big fan of my blog, I wasn’t sure she’d be interested in books I was reading. When I gave her the book, she said she couldn’t read it because she hadn’t brought her glasses with her. I didn’t say anything but wondered how she’d gotten along without them for so long. Thinking it was her way of saying no, I decided not to pursue the idea. She then surprised me and asked if I would read it to her. I was delighted. She noticed the marker I’d placed in the book and asked me to begin there. Thinking it would interest her I had marked the story about the four guys who brought their paralyzed friend to Jesus to be healed. The house was so crowded where Jesus was that they couldn’t get in. They ended up cutting a hole in the roof and lowered their friend down right in front of Jesus. After I finished reading the story, she said she liked it and said she believed anything was possible. Taking another brave step, I asked her if I could pray for her. When she agreed, I laid my hands on her legs and said, “Jesus, Frances wants to walk and believes that You can help her. So, I bring my friend to You to be healed so she can walk.”
After I prayed, Frances wanted me to read some more. So I read the story about the paralyzed man who had been at the pool for 38 years waiting for someone to help him into the water at the right time. It’s interesting how often I’ve read the Bible and noticed something I hadn’t before. And this was one of those times. In other stories, Jesus spoke about the person’s faith and said it was their faith that had healed them. But in this story Jesus only said to the man, “Pick up your mat and walk,” and the man did! The man later got into trouble with the religious leaders for carrying his mat on the Sabbath. When asked who had told him to pick up his mat and walk, the man didn’t know. Amazing, the guy didn’t even know who Jesus was and yet was healed!
Doubt started to set in with Frances. She didn’t think she would be healed because “You’re not Jesus,” she told me. “Yeah, but in my prayer, I brought you to Jesus just like the guys in the story brought their friend to Him,” I told her. She agreed, but then told me I didn’t pray right. She was so funny! She also said the stories in my book weren’t true. That’s when I told her they were right out of the Bible and showed her the reference chart which listed where to find the same stories in the Bible. She then said something that really surprised me. She said, “Next time bring your Bible, so we can read both and compare.”
During the next couple of visits, I read to her from my Bible the same stories I had read the time I laid my hands on her legs and prayed for her to walk. I wasn’t sure if she was believing she would walk or if she just liked that I was visiting her. That question was answered the morning Jim came home from next door and said that Frances’ daughter was there taking care of things. When he asked about Frances, she said she had caused a big commotion screaming for someone to come and help her walk. The nurses tried to calm her by explaining why she wasn’t able to walk but Frances got even more upset and kept insisting she could walk if someone would help her up. The daughter said they had to sedate her to calm her down. When Jim told me, I felt so bad, thinking I’d caused it all. Once I thought about it, I saw all of the commotion as an expression of her faith! Frances believed! I too then believed she would have walked if someone had helped her. It must have been scary for her daughter, and I felt bad about that for a long time, but I was happy to know that Frances believed. Frances may not have been able to walk during the short time left on this earth but I know she’s now walking on the streets of heaven!
Later I saw that the man in the Bible, the one by the pool of water, also demonstrated faith when he did what Jesus told him to do–he picked up his mat and walked. It made me wonder why I didn’t help Frances to walk after I prayed for her? Or perhaps commanded her to get up and walk like Jesus did? Was it because I was afraid she wouldn’t be able to? Could it be that I didn’t really believe like I thought I did? As much as I thought I’d grown, my journey through Faithville showed me there was still much to learn about the works of Jesus.
To be continued . . . see Restville
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