Our Time Is Almost Up.

Repent! Imagine I'm dressed in a long brown monk's robe holding up a sign mounted on a long pole, and on that sign, the single word REPENT! is written. I have recently watched a movie with this very thing, the movie about a plague destroying most of the world and leaving behind those who are forces for evil and those forces for good. That movie was fiction but the truth of the matter is, a couple thousand years ago the Apostles were in their own way doing this very thing, holding up a repent sign, so to speak.

Act 3:19 Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord;

Act 3:20 And he shall send Jesus Christ, which before was preached unto you:

Act 3:21 Whom the heaven must receive until the times of restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began.

A couple thousand years ago, it seems like a long time, but time is relevant, right? And by that I mean whether it was a hundred years, five hundred years, or a couple thousand, the only time that matters in repentance is the time you are alive in and have the chance to repent. Jesus will return, there is no doubt about that whatsoever. Speculation mounts as to why he waits so long, and there are many theories. One of those theories with absolutely no Biblical backing is that compared to the millions and billions of people born the majority are not going to be his. Remember, the Bible tells us FEW will find the narrow way. God may be waiting until all those who will ever be alive and his are born and we have no telling how long something like that might take. There are a lot of theories as already mentioned but the fact remains, HISTORY has proven that Bible prophecies are true and that the LAST prophecy is the one of Jesus' return- it WILL happen believe it or not, your choice.

God has spoken by the mouth of ALL his holy prophets since the world began that Jesus Christ will usher in the RESTITUTION of all things. Obviously, that did not occur when Jesus had His ministry here on earth almost a couple thousand years ago. Jesus came and sacrificed Himself and using that sacrifice He makes atonement for all of those who will be God's. When the time is right, Jesus will finish that work of atonement as High Priest in the heavenly sanctuary and He will return for us.

We are to REPENT and be converted. Converted from what? From sin's hold over us. WE repent, we trust that God will take our repentance- the sincere desire to keep from denying His love, from breaking laws given from that love- and forgive us. He will complete in us a work that is begun, that He will do all for us we are unable to do, this is what we believe. We believe in His saving grace. We want our sins blotted out as if they never existed. We want to be God's and we must trust that He will create the clean heart in us, that He will renew a right spirit in us, that He will keep us from evil, that He will save us to the uttermost, that He will find us as a Shepherd finds the single lost sheep from a flock of many. We must trust HIM all the while we continuously train our hope, our thoughts, and all that is within us to use to live for Him and His will. We do all we can and leave God His work in saving us. Our faith is NOT in our own ability to believe but in God's ability to save us and help our unbelief.

As in the movie I watched with seemingly the end of the world at hand, we need to have people crying out for repentance, the time grows so short- whether it's the time until Christ's return, or the time until you are no longer capable of seeking repentance- none of us are promised tomorrow, not a single one of us.

God help us all!

All through the love and mercy, the grace of our God, and of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ now and forever!

Repent.

Act 8:22  Repent therefore of this thy wickedness, and pray God, if perhaps the thought of thine heart may be forgiven thee. 

Repent. 

From the dictionary- Be sorry: to recognize the wrong in something you have done and be sorry about it. Change ways: to feel regret about a sin or past actions and change your ways or habits

Repentance.

Act 2:38  Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. 

Act 3:19  Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord

Act 17:30  And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men every where to repent

Rom 2:4  Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance? 

2Ti 2:25  In meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth; 

2Ti 2:26  And that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will.

Sorrow for something we've done. To feel the sorrow we need to recognize there is something to be sorry for, that we've done wrong.

Not a day goes by that I don't feel the need to repent, because not a day goes by that I'm not sorry for my many shortcomings, my sins. Repenting of my sins means acknowledging them and changing, turning away from those sins. Jesus told people to 'go and sin no more'.  Jesus expected a change from the people He told that to. I wish it were possible for me to sin no more, yet it seems every time I turn around my heart is filled with selfishness, fear, failings.

Paul, good old Paul, he would understand this-

Rom 7:23  But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. 

Rom 7:24  O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? 

The war within himself.

Rom 7:25  I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin. 

The realization that His hope for deliverance was found in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Our only hope is Jesus Christ our Lord, this is truth.

We are wretched! We do things we don't want to do, things we know better than to do! Our hearts condemn us for our sinfulness and Satan would have us concentrate on our failing, and not on thanking God through Jesus Christ our Lord for deliverance.

We are to repent of our wrongdoings, not relish them, not encourage them, not seek to continue in them, but strive to turn from any and all wrong we are convicted of committing.

We are to repent and be converted- not repent and remain in the very thing we've repented of. The conversion is the change, it is the turning from ourselves and turning towards God. It is the hope found in God. If we have great sorrow for our sin and refuse to look to God for our hope, we will remain in that sin. We have to turn to God for our hope and turn from all that would keep us from turning to God. Repent and be converted so our sins can be blotted out. Only God can blot out our sins through Jesus Christ. We must choose God!

More on all of this tomorrow….

By the will of our Lord, by the grace and mercy of our Savior.

May this wretched person I am find hope in my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Greed.

The Story of Naaman continues...

Treasure laden, the two lowly servants using the pretense of being the sons of prophets, returned to the Prophet Elisha's home with Gehazi. When he no longer needed their services, the greedy, lying, deceitful, money-loving servant took the treasures and released the men from his charge. Hiding the ill-gotten treasure in the house, he returned outside to watch the men leave. No one would be the wiser for what he'd just done. He would keep his riches to himself until he could make plans. Perhaps he'd leave the prophet's service and go out on his own, he certainly had enough wealth to do that now. In fact, that might be for the best because otherwise, people would question where he gained his fortune from. Yes, Gehazi had a lot of planning and plotting to do, but for now, he had to continue in his role as a servant as if nothing had changed.

Entering the room where Elisha was seated, Gehazi gave his master a curt bow in greeting.

Looking at his servant, the prophet did not return any sign that he'd accepted the greeting, his demeanor wasn't quite normal. "Where have you come from, Gehazi?" The prophet asked the question softly, sadly.

A quick flicker of surprise touched the servant's face before he gathered himself. Why would his master ask him this? He never inquired such a thing of him before when he'd been out of his presence. Had he been looking for him while he was gone? Surely, Elisha didn't really care that he'd been indisposed, right? The prophet had always been quite laid back in his treatment of his servant.

Hesitating, Gehazi steeled his resolve not to give himself away. "I didn't go anywhere, I was here all the time," he lied.

Rising up from his seat, Elisha walked over to Gehazi and stopped when he was only a few steps from him. A great sadness tinged with flashes of anger played across the prophet's expression.

"Don't you know my heart was with you when the man left his chariot to meet you?"

Gasping incredulously, Gehazi took a stumbling step backward, his legs weak in fear. The prophet knew! The sight God gave to Elisha to use for the LORD'S will had been used upon him! Why?! He was just a servant! He hadn't hurt anyone! The man had been willing to part with his treasures! It wasn't as if he'd stolen them, not really.

Elisha continued while Gehazi looked at him horrified. "Is it time to receive money, and to receive garments, and olive yards and vineyards, and sheep and oxen and menservants, and maidservants?"

Gehazi knew exactly what Elisha meant, he had done a horrible wrong. The prophet hadn't accepted the gifts because it was not what God wanted of him. God worked in His own time and there was a time for all the things Elisha mentioned, but now was not that time. The servant had gone against God's wishes. The servant had disobeyed God's will. He knew it, he did, even if he wanted to pretend he didn't. He'd done it all with subterfuge hiding it from the prophet. He hadn't gone to his master and asked permission, he followed his own greedy, selfish desire wanting his own will to be done before any others.

The prophet took a step back away from Gehazi and sighed heavily. "The leprosy that was Naaman's shall now be yours, and unto your seed forever."

No! Caught, punished with such an awful punishment Gehazi cried out in horror as his flesh became as white as snow, covered in the lesions of leprosy! Cursed! Cursed forever! Gehzai ran from Elisha's presence and out of the house his cries of despair echoing out behind him. He'd sinned a great sin and he'd been caught! He'd felt no real remorse whatsoever in what he'd done! He'd tried to justify it to himself even as Elisha had confronted him. Cursed by his own hand! Defying Elisha, defying the LORD! For Gehazi there would be no healing, none.

That day one man had been given a life free of disease, while another given the disease. One man had his heart right before the LORD, the other was far from the LORD, his heart closed off to Him. One man had been a pagan worshiping idols and false gods, the other a servant of the prophet of God, not a pagan, not worshiping idols and false gods. The very one you’d think would be rewarded of God had not been rewarded at all. The one who put on a pretense of loving God as the blood of God's people ran through his veins, was every bit a pagan in his heart- worshiping riches, worshiping self-gratification.

God keep us from this end, let our worship be true to You, let our hearts be true to You, keep us in You LORD, we would be wholly Yours! So much threatens to destroy our walk with You LORD. Forgive us our failings of which there are many. Please LORD, if there is any wicked evil way in us destroy it, and lead us in Your way everlasting! You are our HOPE.

2Ki 5:24 And when he came to the tower, he took them from their hand, and bestowed them in the house: and he let the men go, and they departed.

2Ki 5:25 But he went in, and stood before his master. And Elisha said unto him, Whence comest thou, Gehazi? And he said, Thy servant went no whither.

2Ki 5:26 And he said unto him, Went not mine heart with thee, when the man turned again from his chariot to meet thee? Is it a time to receive money, and to receive garments, and oliveyards, and vineyards, and sheep, and oxen, and menservants, and maidservants?

2Ki 5:27 The leprosy therefore of Naaman shall cleave unto thee, and unto thy seed for ever. And he went out from his presence a leper as white as snow.

No Reward Warranted for God's Healing Gift.

Quickly, Naaman gestured the servants to back off. The last thing he wanted was to upset the prophet who had been instrumental in his healing.

Continued…

With his eyes lowered to the ground, Naaman relented to the Prophet Elisha's demand not to be rewarded. It felt wrong though, to be given the gift of renewed life free of charge when in truth, the captain would give all the treasure he had to the man before him for being instrumental in his healing.

With his voice low, but clear, Naaman took a few steps closer to the prophet and spoke, eyes still downcast. "Please, will you instead of taking a reward, I pray you, I beg you to give to me another gift. Two mules laden with the dirt of Israel, the dirt of your land, will you do this so I may no longer worship other gods, but only worship the LORD you serve? Also, If I may be so bold, may I ask the LORD to forgive me when the man I serve goes into the house of Rimmon to worship and brings me with him and leans on me when I bow down…when I bow myself in the house of that false god, Rimmon, that I will be pardoned for doing so. I…I will not worship him but worship the LORD even if it may appear that there has been no change in my worship." Naaman didn't dare look up at the prophet as he spoke. He knew that what he asked was probably too much. Surely the LORD who was mighty enough to heal him of leprosy would demand that he change outwardly in his worship now. Yet, that would mean his death and the miracle of leprosy would have been for naught. He had to ask for this favor, even as he wanted desperately to return a favor, not ask for more of them.

Elisha heard the words of the healed captain and knew there was deep sincerity in the pagan man. The LORD had instructed Elisha to heal Naaman and it wasn't senseless healing, the LORD never did anything senselessly. The LORD knew the miracle of Naaman's healing would spread far and wide and many would know the hand of the LORD was greater than all the other gods worshiped in any other land. The new life of Naaman would be the testimony of the LORD'S, and the new heart in Naaman to worship him would be known as well, but not in such a way as to cause him harm. The LORD'S ways were not man's ways and for thousands of years to come, the healing of Naaman would be spoken of, written of, studied, and used to inspire others. This healing would have a place in the written truths of the LORD as the Holy Spirit in time inspired men to record all that was needed of history- that which would provide truth to salvation for all whose hearts turned to the LORD. Naaman's heart had turned to the LORD and Naaman from this day forward would worship the LORD.

Moving forward, the Prophet Elisha lay a hand on the larger man's shoulder causing Naaman to look at him. "Go in peace," he told him softly. He'd granted the captain his request in those simple words.

Naaman gave a slow, gentle nod of his head as he looked into the prophet's eyes and saw there the peace that was offered to him. The peace of new life not only physically, but spiritually.

Elisha lowered his hand from Naaman's shoulder and turned back towards his house. The captain watched the prophet enter his house and close the door. Taking a very deep breath, as peace filled his heart, Naaman's entire countenance was softened with the love of the one true GOD he now would serve forever.

Orders for the dirt to be collected were given and the work was done swiftly. That precious earth would be placed in his home garden and the idols of Rimmon would be removed from that place. His private sanctuary would be hidden from outsiders but he and his family could worship the LORD thereupon this transplanted earth. This would be his way of life from then on.

Leaving the prophet's land and heading home, Naaman's joy was clearly displayed. He wanted to hurry back to his family as fast as possible so they could share this joyous occasion. And that little servant girl would become family, without her this never would have happened. She would be a daughter to him from that day on.

Lost in the thoughts of how his life had been changed and the many ripples that change would cause, Naaman was startled out of his deep reverie when one of his servants rode up alongside his chariot and gestured their need to halt.

As the horses slowed and stopped, Naaman didn't have to ask what was happening because a quick glance behind him revealed that one of the prophet's servants, the one who'd called himself Gehazi, was running after them.

Jumping down from the chariot, Naaman walked towards the man coming to them and quickly asked, "Is all well?" There had to be a reason for this servant to run after them, had something happened? The last thing Naaman wanted was anything to be wrong.

The servant, Gehazi, had been aghast when his master, Elisha refused the splendor offered to him freely from this Syrian captain. The gold gleamed, the silver was polished to a high sheen and the raiment was gloriously displayed, all this had caught the eye of Gehazi and he could picture himself being given some of this great wealth for his faithfulness as a servant to Elisha. He'd become a rich servant, his status would rise and he would be replete in wealth unlike many of his fellow servants whose stations would remain low and abased with little reward for their hardships.

When Elisha refused to take the treasure, Gehazi was horrified. No, Elisha couldn't refuse such a grand reward! Hadn't he given the captain instructions on how to be healed? He deserved this! He earned this reward! His master was a fool, an utter and complete fool for turning down the wealth most dreamed of but would never own.

This wouldn't do, Gehazi watched his master go into the house and did not follow him. He stayed outside and looked on as Naaman's men dug the dirt to take with them and laden two mules with the heavy soil. He had to follow after them, he had to. He couldn’t lose the opportunity to be wealthy even if Elisha chose to be poor.

Running full out after the chariot as it left, the servant- Gehazi and two other lesser servants were grateful to be noticed. They came panting, out of breath, up to the Syrian captain and Gehazi gasped out his lies. "My master sent me, he said, behold right now from mount Ephraim these two young men of the sons of the prophets have come to me give them a talent of silver and two changes of garments" He gestured to the two underlings he'd brought with him. Were they sons of the prophets? No, but Naaman couldn't know that.

Naaman sighed with relief. Of course, Elisa the prophet did not want any treasure for himself but would allow two of his fellow prophets sons to take part in the reward. The man of the LORD was truly selfless and serving of others.

"Yes! You shall take two talents," Naaman told the servant and quickly his own servants readied the reward for them. Two talents of silver and two changes of clothes were laid upon the two men with Gehazi.

Thrilled to have been able to reward Elisha in some part for his healing of him, Naaman concluded the transaction quickly and returned to his chariot headed for home.

As the chariot and all of the Syrian men rode out of sight, Gehazi's greed-filled smile lit up the man's face, his plan had worked out perfectly!

Leprosy Gone! Naaman's Healing Story Continued...

One more time, just once more and this entire sordid ordeal would be over and he could go home and make plans to end his life while a shred of dignity remained to him.

Continued…

This time he lingered a moment to look back over his shoulder to the shore. His faithful servant was still looking at him, a mixture of anticipated hope and fear twisting his features. A simple, almost imperceptible nod came from the other man and Naaman returned the head twitch before looking away once more.

This was it, the time had come. The prophet… healer, what was the man's name? Elizi? No, Elisha, the Prophet Elisha that was the man's name, he'd given instructions through a servant without even bothering himself to meet the man he was supposedly going to heal, face to face. This farce would be over and along with it any hope Naaman possessed however brief since the beginning of his disease.

Taking quick stock of himself, Naaman knew he was trembling slightly, something that should have appalled him- a captain of the Syrian army- but it didn't. Fate was a strange thing. He could face the enemy's blood-stained swords in battle without a single qualm but this, this disease terrified him.

Inhaling deeply, Naaman held his breath and closed his eyes tighter than before. His trembling body felt suddenly weak and rubbery almost out of his control. Forcing himself to make the last plunge underneath the water, Naaman felt his feet slipping out from beneath him and instead of trying to find purchase, he allowed them to slide. This last immersion would tell-all, it may as well be deeper than any of the others. Arms waving in slow motion under that water's pressure, Naaman was almost able to keep himself submerged in a sitting position. The force of a previously unfelt underwater current, a wave from a passing large fish perhaps, pushed at his chest hard and knocked him completely backward. His head hit the thick sandy riverbed and he felt a few of the water-worn pebbles poke the back of his skull, but there was no pain from the impact. His arms started to flail weakly with the water pressure keeping his movements awkward, Naaman also used his feet digging his heels at the river bottom seeking enough purchase to propel himself upwards.

From the shore, his servant had seen Naaman's plunge take a turn out of the ordinary when his master didn't immediately jerk upwards from his descent. The ripple of water current was wild around where he'd gone under and the servant's sudden anxiety had him rush, fully clothed, into the water. Was the captain in trouble! Drowning? What sorcery had the prophet unleashed upon them? Was there a creature beneath this mucky, stench filled river that lay in wait for unsuspecting people to offer themselves to it with this ritual seven times dipping? Something was wrong, and if anything bad happened to his master because of his urging him to listen to the prophet, he'd never forgive himself, never!

Before the servant could traverse the water to him, Naaman regained his footing and pushed hard against the ground propelling his body up out of the water. As before he shook his head hard only this time he sputtered out a mouthful of the awful water that he'd managed to inhale. Coughing hard while using his hands to brush the water from his face and hair, Naaman took all of a few seconds to gather his wits before thrusting his arms outwards studying them for the familiar leper spots.

Shock filled him and he stumbled almost off his feet again, but this time his servant was there to keep him standing.

"They're gone! They're gone!" Naaman gasped in shocked disbelief. He twisted his arms, he looked frantically for the diseased spotted flesh and found none on his arms. He grabbed at his waist as he looked down upon his torso, not a single mark! His flesh was smooth, soft, new! "It's gone!" He shouted and gave a loud whoop of pure joy. "I'm healed! It worked! He healed me! It worked!"

The rest of the servants still on the shore turned to look in amazement at the sight of their master, they joined in the chorus of happy shouting and grabbed at each other happily thumping one another on the back before rushing into the water's edge to meet their master as he and his favored servant came rushing out of the river to the shore.

There were unceremonious hugs and congratulations all around as they studied the pure flesh of Naaman's. It was as if his flesh was that of a young child, not a grown man. They'd never seen such unblemished, soft flesh-like this before on one with this many years of life behind him.

Over the course of just a few minutes, things settle a bit and the favored servant started barking out commands for the captain to be dried and redressed in a fresh set of clothing, the old set would be burned and along with it any remainder of the disease that had marked Naaman.

Disbelief and joy clouded the captain's mind. The happiness had him laughing and continuously touching his arms, his chest all the places the leprosy had marked him, places he'd stopped touching since the disease was first noticed.

"We have to go back to the prophet! We have to! He healed me, His God healed me! Surely there is no God such as His!" Naaman shouted the words that were shockingly true, words he'd never thought he'd utter. Only moments before he'd briefly entertained the thought of going back and harming the false prophet, and now, well…now he wanted to praise him and worship the obviously true God the man served! None of the gods he'd served all his life had been able to heal him, none, they were useless, powerless, truly false prophets of the world but not the Prophet Elisha's God, he healed him! It was a miracle unlike any other he'd ever known, healed of leprosy and left with not a single scar from the blemishes! None would have known he'd ever been disease-ridden if they hadn't seen it for themselves.

Redressed, all the servants in dry apparel as well, Naaman and his entourage made their way back to the prophet's home.

"Prophet Elisha! Prophet Elisha!" Naaman called out for the man as his chariot approached his dwelling.

This time the prophet pushed open the door himself and stepped outside to stand before the captain. There was a slight knowing smile curving the lips of the prophet, a certain light of his own joy gleaming in his eyes. God had a purpose here in this healing he'd wrought through Elisha and God's work was joyful in its revealed miraculous ways.

Jumping down out of the chariot, Naaman rushed to stand in front of the prophet. Clearing his throat with a deep cough, trying to contain some of his unseemly, inappropriate behavior for a man of his station, the captain bowed his head with his arm across his chest showing the man high regard, the respect of a Syrian captain.

Head raised, arm at his side a moment later, Naaman spoke loud and clear. "Behold, now I know that there is no God in all the earth, but in Israel: now, therefore, I pray thee, take a blessing of thy servant."

With a wave of his arm, several servants revealed the treasure of fine raiment, the chests filled with silver and gold, surely a small price to pay for the return of his health, and in truth, his life.

The sheer wealth before the prophet was unlike anything he had ever been offered before, but without a single thought of taking possession of it, the prophet shook his head and held his arms up, his palms outward as if to ward off the offered blessing. "As the LORD liveth, before whom I stand, I will receive none." He told the captain. He hadn't healed Naaman, God had healed him. To take a reward of any kind would be taking the glory for the healing he had not done. He was a vessel to be used by the LORD, without any power of his own. Elisha wanted all the glory to go to God, every bit of it, not a single bit of glory would be his.

Naaman was wide-eyed with shock. The man was refusing enough wealth to set him up for the rest of his life in luxury and status. Surely he had to change his mind!

"You have to take it if it weren't for you my life would be over. You must let me reward you! I have to do something for you!" Naaman insisted and waved his servants forwards as if to force the treasures upon the man.

"No," Elisha spoke the single word adamantly and took a step backward, his face losing all of its previous peacefulness, replaced with a brow furrowed deeply, his expression stern.

Quickly, Naaman gestured the servants to back off. The last thing he wanted was to upset the prophet who had been instrumental in his healing.

To be Continued...

Naaman's Healing Story Continued....

The Jordan River came into view and Naaman's heart twisted just a little bit with the tiny bit of hope he allowed. Disgust also rose up vying for the foremost spot. The war within the captain was visible in his expressions. He was about to do something he did not want to do. Everything in him all but demanded he stop this foolishness, that he turn back and just go to his homeland. He was about to demean himself on a level he'd never had to do so before. He was a Captain of the Syrian army! A great captain, revered by many, praised by his King, and here he was about to strip down and walk into a muddy river on foreign soil. It wasn't bad enough he had to put a single foot into the river, he had to submerge himself fully, and not once but seven times! He had to go under the water completely seven times, totally covered by the reviled water. He couldn't do this thing, and yet he had to try, he had to.

Walking to the water's edge, Naaman steeled himself for what he had to do. His servants surrounded him and reached out waiting for his permission to help him take off his clothes. Taking a deep breath, Naaman gave a curt nod signaling them to begin. With each article of clothing removed Naaman's jaw tightened until it was clenched so hard he thought his teeth might break at any moment.

Stripped of all but a loincloth, Naaman forced himself to look down upon his exposed flesh. He had to see the reason he was doing this, he had to look at the blemishes on his skin. Leprosy. He could still remember his first suspicious mark and the horror that overtook him. It wasn't long before his suspicions were confirmed as the marked flesh expanded and grew more loathsome. Unable to deny what was happening to him he'd confessed to his king and the shame-filled him. He'd fall on his sword before going into a leper colony, it was just a matter of how long he could hold off before that had to happen. He had a family to consider and wanted them taken care of before the inevitable.

Conversations at home about his condition grew more frequent and spilled over into the ears of the servants, and soon that little Israeli captive felt bold enough to speak to his wife about the prophet in her land, the healing prophet. His wife, in turn, brought the information to him, with such hope in her gaze he held back his initial reaction to scoff at her falling for the little maid's lies. Her pleading with him to seek help from the prophet was at first refused, but her tears broke his reticence easily enough. He could never fight those tears they fell so seldom but when they did it was always out of the deepest love for him. Agreeing to go to the king with the request, Naaman told his wife softly to wipe away her tears, wishing he dared to touch her to do so himself. He longed to kiss her tear dampened cheeks and comfort her but he couldn't, and it had been a long time since he'd done so. Leprosy had separated them from the intimacy they were accustomed to and he missed her touch desperately. Such a man as he was, a strong Captain of a great army, the victor in many a skirmish and yet at home he'd always melted into the tender touch of his wife. For her, he had to try to save his life, even if it was a fool's undertaking.

The white blotches across his torso, the lesions moving to his extremities, Naaman knew it wouldn't be much longer before he lost fingers, toes, his nose. Oh yes, he'd seen lepers and their many disfigurements- always from a great distance, but close enough to know what this disease would do to him sooner rather than later. This wretched disease would be the death of him, he knew that, but here he stood not quite close enough for Jordan's water to touch his bared feet. The fool's errand had to be seen through to completion. He had to be able to tell his wife he'd done all that was asked of him. To go back to her and tell her his pride had kept him from following the prophet's instructions would only result in more tears and pleading for him to go back and try again.

As the wind brushed over his exposed flesh, Naaman's body shuddered hard. He had to get this over with now, there was no reason for any more delay, none.

The men surrounding him took a step back and all but his most trusted servant turned their backs on him, giving their master the privacy his rank required. They didn't have to witness his humiliation first hand and if they could, anyone of them would fight to keep any others from seeing their master this way. They'd protect him, and give him all the honor he deserved. Did they think their master a fool for undertaking this journey? No. They all hoped for only the best outcome.

A step forward and the cool water touched his feet. Naaman kept a gasp from escaping his clenched jaw, sparing himself the humiliation of such a noise. With his feet wet he instantly just wanted to get this whole ordeal over with as fast as he possibly could. One long stride and then he forced himself to take shorter steps, he hadn't a clue when or if the ground beneath would give way and he'd go under the water. He didn't want a sudden dunking, he wanted to be in control of his submersion.

The water moved up over his knees, his thighs and to his waist, this was far enough, he had enough room to completely submerge himself. Did he turn around and look back at the shoreline where his most trusted servant alone stood watching him, or did he keep himself facing away? Did he want to see the only other witness to his degradation? No. No, he did not.

Without another thought, Naaman spread his arms slightly out to the side and bent his knees dropping his body downwards and the water rushed over his chest, up to his arms, and to his neck. Pausing only long enough to take a deep breath Naaman forced the rest of himself underneath the water until he was sure not a single hair on the top of his head remained dry. Less than a moment later he shot up out of the water, the force of his push upwards causing him to stumble slightly before regaining solid footing. Water cascaded down over his face and he blew a hard breath outwards and shook his head displacing the water as best he could. One down. Only six more submersions to go. Did he pause to look at his flesh? No, he just wanted to get this over with. Down he went for the second time, a repeat of the first plunge. Up again, another hard shake of his head and expulsion of his held breath. Two. He could do this, only five more. After the next four plunges, Naaman paused, taking a deep breath as he brushed the water from his face. His stomach was a knot of hot anger and desperate hope. This time he did take a moment to look at his disfigured flesh. The wet skin distorted things a bit but he could clearly make out the marked skin twisted lesions still there on his arms. One more time, just once more and this entire sordid ordeal would be over and he could go home and make plans to end his life while a shred of dignity remained to him.

To be continued….

Naaman's Healing.

The gentile, heathen, Syrian- Captain Naaman wanted desperately to be healed of his leprosy. Given hope by a young girl taken captive from Israel that there was in Israel a man who could heal him, Naaman jumped at the chance. The King of Syria also wanted his amazing captain to be healed. The man was an asset to him except for leprosy that would ultimately keep him from doing his job. A letter from one king to another desiring help. However, the receiving king thought he was being asked the impossible, to heal someone of leprosy?! Impossible! This was a ploy, a set-up, he was being manipulated into what would be a war and already the Syrian army had taken Israeli captives from his land. Distraught the Israeli king was at a loss, he didn't know what to do. The word spread quickly and the prophet, Elisha stepped up. He would show the power of God to this disease-ridden, idol worshiping, enemy captain.

Relief filled Captain Naaman when he heard the news! Could it be true? Had his slave girl- captured from Israel- truly led him to a path of healing? He'd do anything to be healed, the alternative was a slow death as leprosy ate away at his flesh and incapacitated him, forcing him from life as he knew it and into a camp of diseased people such as himself. Surely he would go before this healing man and the healer would perform his elaborate ritual of healing. Isn't that what healers were supposed to do? All the supposed healers, soothsayers, and the like of his land, of his religion, put on great shows with their magic god-given powers. Unfortunately, they had yet to find a prophet, healer, soothsayer from their own religion that would heal him.

Sent for, he arrived at the home of the healing prophet who worshiped the one God, the unnamed God, the supposed God of all gods. Oh, yes, Naaman knew of the religion of these people. He studied history, he knew their backstory. Naaman was familiar with their temple worship dedicated to the one God, he knew all about their sacrifices to one God. He knew they had been captives of Egypt at one point and their God supposedly freed them by great miracles and brought them into occupied land, and enabled them to conquer the land He'd chosen for them. The kings- Saul, David, Solomon… oh, yes, Naaman knew of these famous kings of Israel and he also knew of the divided kingdom history, that's what you did as a good captain, a successful captain of an enemy army you studied and knew your enemies. There was no secret about the God of these people, and Naaman had nothing to do with Him, why would he? He wasn't Israeli and he was raised to worship is own particular god, Rimmon, otherwise known as Baal. To have to go to a prophet of another god was disappointing but obviously necessary. Hadn't his own king sent him to this land to be healed because there were no healing prophets of his own god in his own land?

Hope flared deep inside Naaman as he and his treasure-laden entourage arrived at Elisha's home. What would the prophet ask of Him? Would he have to undergo elaborate and intricate ceremonies? Would he need to be brave in the face of being asked to do something out of the ordinary? Did this prophet want of him a blood sacrifice? It wasn't uncommon to sacrifice humans to gods, though Naaman had never heard of this as common practice for this particular God. He like animal sacrifices, well, Naaman had animals with him for such things, or enough money and goods to buy anything he might need for this very special healing ritual to take place. Ready for anything, Naaman approached the house and after announcing his presence he expected to be shown into the prophet's home, but that didn't happen. Perplexed, as a servant of the prophet stood before him, Naaman's brow furrowed deeply. What kind of trickery was this?! Where was the prophet?! He'd been told the prophet would heal him and the prophet wasn't even inviting him into his home?! Why was this lowly servant speaking to him other than to show him the deference he deserved while leading him to the master of the house? This wasn't right, this wasn't how it was supposed to be done. Where was the respect he deserved?

The servant was only following the orders of his master and relaying the message given to him for the captain.

"My master said you are to go to the River Jordon and wash in the water there seven times and your flesh will return to normal and you will be clean."

Fury filled Naaman instantly. Wash in a filthy river?! What kind of sick joke was this?! Where was the prophet? Why wasn't he out there to meet him? Why hadn't he invited him inside? Why wasn't the healing ceremony being undertaken? Did he think him a fool that he would go into his filthy Israeli river not just once but seven times?! Would he have spies, or lay in hiding somewhere to watch him make a fool of himself by listening to such idiotic instructions? No! Naaman would not be made a fool of! He would not be dismissed by a messenger and sent on a fool's errand designed to humiliate him and not heal him. This wasn't the way you healed someone, it just wasn't! Where were the spices, the special herbs, the waving thrushes, the sacrifices and possibly painful tasks for him to undergo to appease the god being called on to heal him? Surely he at least deserved the prophet's presence and the prophet's grand gestures as he called on his God on Naaman's behalf! Wash in a river, this was lunacy. There were much better rivers, cleaner and pure in his own land. If he were going to be healed in a river surely it would be in his lands superior rivers. Enraged completely he turned away to leave, to go back to his own home- a leper still. He would not be made a fool any more than he had been already.

Before he could get far though, a few of his own trusted servants stopped him. "Why not at least try what the prophet said to do, what do you have to lose? If he'd asked you to do something fanciful you wouldn't have hesitated and you know it, but he didn't. You should listen, it won't hurt you. We won't tell anyone about this if it fails. Isn't it actually a good thing he doesn't want you to suffer a blood-letting, or painful needles, or bites from leeches, or worse? This won't give you any pain at all except to your pride."

Such bold servants, but their words didn't fall on deaf ears. Captain Naaman's fury began to abate. The things they were saying were all true. He had nothing to lose at all by listening to the instructions. It wasn't as if the prophet told him to cut off his own arm in order to be healed. A rush of resignation filled him as the anger subsided. He'd do it, he'd go to that dirty river and follow the instructions of the prophet given to him by the man's servant. His own servants were right, who was going to know about all this? And even if they did find out, who would blame him for trying anything to be healed?

Relenting to his servants' pleas, Naaman started for the Jordan River. The entire way to the river his thoughts were filled with conflict. He felt anger and yet a small glimmer of hope allowed itself to take root. What if this were the proper way to be healed here in this land of the One God? What if the filthy, disease-ridden river water had some special power. No, it couldn't have the power of its own, that would be impossible. If the river were the source of healing people would fill it all the time with their sick. Kings would fight to own the river as much as anyone could own an entire river. Such a prize as a healing river would be famous, not completely unheard of. That's was the truth of the matter, wasn't it? This river was not known at all for any kind of healing. Yet still, if he were healed… did he dare allow himself that hope, maybe just a little bit? The skeptic in him was in the forefront and yet to go home without at least trying to be healed by this ludicrous means would also be foolish and he'd always wonder what might have happened had he listened to the healing prophet. Surely that little captive girl had no reason to deceive him, in fact, things would be quite dire for her should this prove to be a fool's errand. She was a nice young girl, perfectly suited to serve his wife. In fact, his wife had nothing but great things to say about her. The girl wanted to help him so to lie to him about a healing prophet wouldn't be in character. The girl had nothing to gain from a lie, nothing.

The Jordan River came into view and Naaman's heart twisted just a little bit with that hope he allowed. The disgust also rose up in his thoughts vying for the foremost spot. The war within the captain was visible in his expressions.

To be continued…. By the grace and the will of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.