Great Things the Lord Hath Done for Thee

“But you still love him, do you not?” The question was repeated, hovering in the air almost like a threat. Lydia pushed stringy, damp hair back from her face, tucking it carefully under her veil. The heat was dreadful today, only serving to make her more miserable. Dust swirled from the dry streets… it clung to everything, coating the entire town and its inhabitants with a drab, tired-looking tan color.

At any other time, the question would have made Lydia angry. It tried to now, the old frustration rising up in her heart, nearly boiling over. But she was too weary to let it out. She simply shrugged, bowing further under the weight of her heavy basket as she turned away from the older woman. She would not give them the satisfaction of laughing at her today.

But laugh they did, regardless. They danced after her as they always did, jeering. A few children threw pebbles and the dusty spray hit her skirts, bouncing off her legs. 

“Crazy woman, crazy woman!” they cried. She walked slowly, trying to hold her head up, blinking her eyes to keep back the stinging tears. They quivered on her lashes and one trickled down her cheek. “Crazy woman to love a crazy man! You must be crazy too!”

She wanted to break into a run, to dash wildly into the door of her hovel and slam it on them all, pushing the heavy latch into place so she could throw herself onto her bed roll and weep out her sorrow in peace. But for the sake of her son, she would keep her dignity intact. She forced her chin higher, relief filling her heart as she saw her own door, and tiny David… brave little one that he was… holding it open for her as he peeked out with wide, frightened eyes. She ushered him inside quickly, turning her back to the mob as she protected her son from the cries. 

“Crazy woman!” They were still shouting. “Take your son and get out of town! We do not want you and your Legion to plague us any longer… he is a curse on us all!”

She turned heel, spinning to glare at them with narrowed eyes, her face red with fury.

“His name,” she spat out between clenched teeth. “Is Levi.” 

And she slammed the door so hard the walls shook.

oOo

It seemed a lifetime ago, those happy days that followed her marriage to him, the love of her life… her best friend. He was tall and strong and handsome, with kind brown eyes that held a depth of love. That was what had impressed her about him at first… his tenderness, his gentle hands. Her heart had overflowed with gladness the day he approached her father to pay the bride-price.

Her father had been a kind man too, not one to sell his daughter away to a man she could not love. He had drawn her aside while Levi stood nervously in the doorway, twisting his fingers together as he waited.

“Daughter,” her father smiled at her lovingly. “Do you wish to marry this man? Tell me truthfully, now.”

She had glanced over his shoulder and caught Levi’s gaze. The look in his eyes made her catch her breath. She could feel her heart melting with love and she praised the Lord that a man so noble as this would ever want a plain little thing like her.

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes shining.

“You love him, then.” Lydia had only nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. Her father took her by the hand and led her to where Levi waited.

“Then, my son,” he spoke as he placed Lydia’s hand into Levi’s. “I give her to you willingly, and with my blessings. I know you will care for her. May the Lord smile upon your union.”

oOo

Joyful days followed as the young couple worked together to make a home for themselves. Levi had a small farm just outside of the village and great dreams for its future. Many the evening came to find them sitting side by side in the sunset, drinking in the beauty of the land around them. He would gesture excitedly as he described his plans for improvement… a new field to be bought to the right… and then a barn to be built on the left… a new crop to try the following planting season… and a trip into the city in the fall. He would buy her the finest lengths of cloth, and perhaps a golden bangle. 

“Something to match the sparkle of your beautiful eyes,” he smiled and she would blush as he bent to kiss her gently. As the evening shadows lengthened, she pressed a hand to her growing stomach and her mind wandered through her own dreams. Soon a little one would come to bless them again.

But a shadow fell over them not a year after little David had come to stay. A hailstorm and then a fierce drought dashed Levi’s dreams into pieces. He grew silent, angry, brooding, drawing deep inside of himself as he paced the floor of their home night after night, his brows pressed tight together. Times were hard and he no longer was confident he could provide for his growing family. Another baby was on the way.

And the shadows only deepened when Lydia lost the baby… a tiny girl, too tiny to live. Levi fell into darker depression and Lydia could no longer reach him. Night after night she would try to pull him close to comfort him as he lay stiff and rigid beside her, his mind swirling in the storm that had overtaken him. They were falling farther into debt and he feared prison if he could not pay it soon. And then how would he care for Lydia? Her father was gone now… there was no one she could rely on but him.

“We have the Lord, Levi,” she would whisper when he began to fly into wild rages. “All we have to do is ask and He will provide… as He did for our fathers.”

“He has done nothing for me,” Levi snapped, bringing his fist hard upon the table. “He has cursed me.”

“He gave us each other… and our David,” Lydia’s voice trembled. “Together, we can make it through.”

“And what are you but a burden to me now?” His eyes seemed almost black, and they frightened her. The cruel words pierced deep. “If I cannot care for you, it is better that we never had met. You should have married a wealthier man than me, Lydia.”

“But I love you!” she wailed, running to fling herself at his feet, wrapping her arms around his knees and holding him tight. But he peeled her away and stalked out the door, leaving her on the floor, weeping.

There were whispers among the people of the Gadarenes… rumors of a dark evil lying at their borders. The witches, the familiars, had been driven from the city long ago… but had they really gone, or did they only live in hiding as they continued to practice their evil? No one could know for sure… but the whispers flew around Levi and soon his name was in connection with them. He went into the hills more and more in those days… and gave no explanation for his absence. Each time he returned, his face was darker, more troubled.

Lydia refused to listen to the rumors. They were cruel. Many a time did she have to snatch David up to cover his ears as she fled the marketplace and the suspicious townsfolk. She trusted her Levi too much to believe him capable of such unspeakable things.

But the change in him kept worsening… until came the day that he struck her when she tried to suggest prayer yet again. He slapped her cheek so hard that she reeled against the wall… and as she leaned against it, stunned, he gripped her by the shoulders and hissed angrily at her.

“Never… never… speak that Name to me again.”

And she didn’t understand. But her own silent prayers only grew more desperate.

oOo

Time went on, and Lydia’s fear only grew. David had taken to hiding under the bed when his father came home, listening in terror as he screamed angry words, smashing pottery and slamming his fists against the walls. He tore pillows apart, threw blankets into the fire, and dumped food on the floor. He was unable to be reasoned with. He didn’t even seem to hear Lydia’s desperate pleas. Sometimes she hid from him, afraid of his angry fists. The same hands that had held her so tenderly before now only seemed to hurt and destroy.

He was home on that last, dreadful night when the mob had come to take him away. His powerful frame towering over her as she backed away, keeping the table between them as a sort of feeble protection. She tried to speak and he snarled at her, advancing threateningly.

“Woman, you are a curse to me,” he bellowed, his voice strange and different. It struck a fear into her heart, the like of which she had never known before. “You have never done me any good. I could kill you with my bare hands…”

She reached behind her, trembling hands feeling along the cupboard until she grasped the handle of a knife. The feel of it in her fingers sickened her, but she gripped it tightly as he stepped closer.

“David, get into the loft!” she shrieked, as her son’s tiny footsteps hurried up the ladder. Levi laughed… an eerie, freakish laugh. He grabbed the table that stood between them and dashed it into pieces with nothing but his hands. She clutched the knife tighter, her knuckles white.

“Don’t come any closer,” her voice shook and he laughed again.

“You think you can fight me, woman? You are nothing… I could snap you like a twig.”

And she knew it was true. In the last several days, he had seemed somehow to develop a superhuman strength.

“Levi, please,” she gasped out, her eyes blinded with tears. “Don’t you love me anymore? Levi, for God’s sake…”

“My name is Legion,” he sneered. “For we are many.”

She screamed, striking out in blind terror as she felt his hands on her, moving to her throat. But in the silence that followed, she dared to look up at him. He was standing motionless, a flash of gentle brown in the eyes that had been black for so long. He was staring at her in horror… and his hands trembled. Blood trickled down his arm where she had slashed at him… a mere scratch, a trifle of a wound. He didn’t seem angry. She let the knife fall from nerveless fingers.

And then came a thunderous shouting at the door… the cries of a mob. The door was broken down in another moment and men with torches filled the tiny room. He didn’t struggle at first… his eyes never leaving Lydia’s white face as they forced his arms behind his back and bound him in chains. They were dragging him away and she cried out, dashing forward, reaching out to him. 

“Lydia…” For one moment he whispered her name and the sound struck deeper pain into her being than she had ever felt before. It was Levi’s voice whispering her name, and Levi’s brown eyes that were filling with tears. 

“Levi… my husband…” She let out a strangled cry as the women of the village surrounded her, holding her back. She couldn’t reach him. “I love you!” 

His face had turned hard again and with a wild roar, he broke free of the chains. The crowd scattered, men running in every direction. One dropped a torch and the dry grass caught afire. Levi’s face was illuminated eerily in the sudden, leaping flames. Only for a moment did their courage falter, and they were at him again… more than a dozen men surrounding him. When they parted, his head was down and he stood still, bound once again. They kicked him forward, dragging him down the road as a few stayed behind to put out the fire. 

Lydia turned from the scene… she could not bear to see her husband in chains. She found David in the loft, his tiny body trembling. She scooped him up and held him close, rocking him back and forth as she wept, her tears uncontrollable.

oOo

The days that followed were dreadful ones for Lydia. It seemed as if no one would ever leave her alone. She wanted only to hide in her home and hold on to David. Her heart had broken, and the almost physical pain in her chest was unbearable at times. She didn’t understand. And her desperate prayers seemed to no avail. God was silent.

“He was practicing black magic,” the townspeople told her. “He was seen going into the mountains where the people do evil. He thought he could save the farm through other means than honest ones. He is a wicked man, Lydia, and you are best to be rid of him. An evil spirit dwells in his body.”

It made her want to scream, the horrible things they said about him. But she knew she couldn’t argue… Levi was a changed man. An evil power had overtaken him, body and soul, and no one could reach him. But they watched him from afar and daily, reports were brought to her of his whereabouts. He had taken to roaming through the tombs in the mountains, and his wild cries terrified all who came too close.

“Pray that he stays there,” one of the village elders told Lydia. “Pray that he comes no more down to the village. He has the strength of ten men and there is nothing we can do to stop him.”

The farm was seized and sold to pay Levi’s debts. Had it not been for the kindness of Anna, an older widow whose children had grown, Lydia and David would have been left beggars in the streets. Anna took them in and helped Lydia buy back her loom so she could finish paying her husband’s debt by weaving cloth to sell at market. The village had branded her the same as a widow, but she scorned all hypocritical offers of charity for they never came without biting words of criticism. She promised herself that as soon as she could afford it, she would take David and leave this cruel village forever.

But she knew she could never go and leave her husband behind.

In those first months after Levi went crazy, he still had lucid moments. He would wander towards the village, but at the first sight of him the alarm would be raised and dozens of men would rush to meet him. They would bring him into the market square wrapped in chains, while others stood at a distance to hurl insults and mockery. They would beat him… trying to beat the devil out of him, they said. 

Lydia could not bear it. He looked almost like himself on those days… but bowed down as if it were with a thousand sorrows, with wild, confused terror in his gentle brown eyes. It was as if for a few moments he had glimpsed light and hope, and he was afraid to be lost in the darkness again. She threw her body over his when they tried to beat him, pleading with them to leave him alone. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pulled him close, pressing kisses to his dirty face, but he only looked at her blankly as if he didn’t understand.

“Come home with me, Levi,” she begged. “Please. I know we can work through this together… Please, Levi… don’t you know me? Don’t you know who I am? It’s your wife, Lydia…”

They pulled her off of him then and her cries became more desperate as she lifted her hands to heaven.

“God! Abba, Father! Look down on us and send Thy mercy… touch my husband, Lord, and take away this evil that is torturing his soul!”

The name of God brought back all the fury to Levi’s deranged mind, and he broke away from those who held him. It never lasted long, those times of stillness. Levi grew stronger yet, and wilder… but he was seen less and less in the village.

Day after day, Lydia forced her sorrow into hard work. And night after night she wept it out on her bedroll, her little son held close as she prayed to God for deliverance. Would it never come? And yet… she trusted in her Lord. She knew the infinite faithfulness and mercy of God, and she clung to that scrap of hope with all her strength.

Faithfully, once a week, after David had fallen asleep, Lydia would fill a basket with provisions… bread, meat, and cheese, sometimes a warm blanket or a robe. She would slip down the silent streets, winding her way through the countryside and into the hills.

The tombs dotted the hillsides, left mostly in silence but for the rise and fall of the nearby ocean waves. Sometimes herds of sheep and pigs were driven up here to graze amongst the tombs and it was from these Gentile shepherds that she had gleaned the most news about her husband. The reports grew worse every time. He would wander restlessly among the tombs, as if searching for something he could not find, his eyes filled with a terror that no one could describe. His hair was growing long, and the chains they had tried to bind him with often trailed broken behind him, adding an eerie clanking to his cries. He hurt himself, they said, cutting his body with stones until the blood ran.

Lydia laid the food out on a flat rock near the tombs, praying that he would find it… and that she would not come face to face with him, there in the dark. She loved him still… but she feared him. And yet as she turned to retrace her path to the village, a sound behind her left her frozen in place.

“Lydia.”

It was Levi’s voice… quiet and sad. She turned slowly, gripping the handle of her basket until it hurt. He stood there on the path, almost unrecognizable, and she shrank away from him in terror. She could scarcely believe that was her husband… not her Levi, not that. He looked like an animal… filthy, his body covered with scars and open wounds, his clothes hanging in tatters. But he wasn’t trying to hurt her… he just stood there, one hand outstretched and a desperate longing written on his face.

“Levi,” she whispered, her eyes flooding with tears. “Please…” She ventured a tiny step towards him. Still, he didn’t move. She came closer, moving so slowly… and then she reached out to touch his hand. Something flickered in his eyes and for one moment she dared to hope… and then he turned and ran, running faster than any human should ever be able to run, and disappeared. Alone on the hillside, she wept and prayed.

oOo

“There is a great teacher and prophet among us,” Anna leaned forward eagerly, her eyes filling with an unquenchable excitement. “His name is Jesus of Nazareth, the son of a carpenter… I have heard amazing reports of His work among the people.”

Lydia couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s enthusiasm. Dear Anna, always trying to distract her from her troubles through stories and gossip. Anna was perhaps the only one in the village who did not blame Lydia in some small way for her own suffering… the only one who did not shun her or make cruel comments. 

“What has He done that is so great?” Lydia leaned forward at her loom to pass her shuttle through the threads. 

“There are stories about him… some say that He can heal those who are blind and crippled… make them see and walk again. There are those who say He has the spirit of Elijah… and some say He is the long-awaited Messiah, deliverer of our people!” 

“Do you believe these reports?” Lydia had heard such stories before… many a time had one claimed to be the Messiah and been proven false in the end.

“I am not sure,” Anna grew thoughtful as she bent her head over her stitchery. “I suppose I would have to see one of these miracles myself before I could believe it was true.”

“I suppose,” Lydia said slowly. A strange feeling was suddenly creeping over her. “What did you say His name was?”

“Jesus… of Nazareth.” Anna’s needle moved rapidly through the cloth a moment and then she looked up at Lydia. “If He can heal people, do you suppose it would ever be possible…” her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to speak the words.

“You mean…” Lydia’s hands were trembling. “Maybe He could heal Levi.”

“There are stories that say he has cast devils from those possessed,” Anna murmured. “But, of course, those reports could be greatly exaggerated. All I know is that this Jesus has never crossed the sea to our part of the country and probably never will. And yet…”

“And yet it almost gives one reason to hope,” Lydia bent her head to hide the tears. “Dear Anna, pray with me, please.”

oOo

Four years old by now, David was growing strong and healthy and smart for his age… the one bright spot in Lydia’s dreary existence. He was a thoughtful child, and he would sit on a mat by Lydia’s feet for hours as she worked. Lydia could spin a story as well as she could her beautiful cloth, and David listened enraptured to the tales of their people’s escape from slavery in Egypt, the fire from Heaven on Mount Carmel when the prophet Elijah prayed, and of the little boy raised from the dead.

“Mommy,” he asked one day, his little head cocked to one side in contemplation. “God can do very great things, right?”

“Yes, my little one,” Lydia smiled as she drew skeins of thread from a basket. “He parted the Red Sea, delivered us from bondage, and brought us to a land of promise…”

“It was all a very long time ago,” David shook his head. “Does God still do miracles?”

“Of course He does. Why, ‘twas less than two hundred years ago that He gave us the miracle of Hanukkah…”

“But I mean now. Could God give us a miracle for Daddy?”

Lydia let her hands drop limply into her lap. She had prayed so many times for a miracle and she was beginning to grow weary. 

“I know He could, my son. The question is… will He?” With a sigh, she reached out to David and he climbed into her lap, resting his curly head against her shoulder. “There is a man I hear stories about… His name is Jesus. Some say He is the Messiah, the Chosen One of God. Some say He does miracles through the Holy Spirit of God.”

“Miracles?” David lifted his head, eyes searching his mother’s face. “Like in the stories?”

“Yes, my child, like in the stories. Can you do something for me, David? Something for your daddy?” He nodded solemnly as she continued. “Pray that this Jesus comes to the Gadarenes. Perhaps… perhaps He will be our miracle.” 

“I will pray,” David promised. And he did, faithfully, every night, adding to the prayer he had prayed every night since he was old enough to understand. “Please, dear God, help my daddy, and make him well so he can come home again. And please, God, send Jesus. We need a miracle.”

And the prayer was echoed in Lydia’s heart. 

“Please, God, send Jesus… we need a miracle.”

oOo

Anna often took David for a day to give Lydia a few hours to herself… and those days always found Lydia slipping down the back streets of town and out into the hills. She would stay there near the tombs all day long, as close to her husband as she possibly could be, and she would pray for him. Sometimes she caught a glimpse of him, sometimes she heard his wild cries… and it only made her pray harder. 

She climbed to one of the highest hills on a warm summer morning, a basket of food over her arm. In all the time that she had been carrying food to him, she had never seen him eat it. She hoped it was he who found it, and not animals. There was a herd of swine up in the hill pastures that day and Lydia wrinkled her nose at them. Pigs were such foul creatures. There were so many Gentiles in the region, surrounding their little sea-faring Jewish village, that herds of pigs had to be borne… but Lydia couldn’t understand how even a Gentile could like a pig. They were rooting around on the neighboring hillside, squealing and snorting at each other, making a dreadful racket. Lydia turned her back to them and her face towards the sea as she knelt to pray, watching idly as a ship sailed toward the shore.

Something felt different that day… perhaps something about how the sun shone so brightly, or maybe it was in the air… but something seemed to fill her with a sudden and unconquerable hope. And then a sudden shout of horrible anguish tore her from her reverie and she jumped to her feet, startled. A distant figure was running towards the slope of the hill, and crying out as he ran. And Lydia forgot her basket as she followed, not knowing why she went as she struggled over the rocks. It was that feeling of something different, that sudden spark of hope that pressed her onward as she made her way toward the edge where she could see the ship sitting at anchor. A group of travellers… and strange travellers they must be to not be heading immediately toward the village… were walking up the hillside. She felt a flash of alarm and of shame, knowing that if they came any farther, they would surely meet Levi… and what would happen then? She wanted to shout at them, to warn them back… 

The travellers were sitting on the hillside and she had drawn near enough to see their faces. A group of thirteen men, she counted, dressed in rough clothing. Jewish, surely, and tanned from the sun. One seemed to be their leader and as He spoke to them, Lydia could hear His words. Plain and simple though He seemed, there was an infinite kindness in Him that somehow seemed to mark this Man as special. She stepped nearer and finally dropped to the grass, her eyes held unwavering on the face of the Stranger. 

And she watched in astonishment as Levi ran to this Man, falling on his knees and bowing his head to the ground. He cried out in that strange, frightening voice as he held his hands out beseechingly.

“What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God?” 

His words struck Lydia’s heart and her eyes grew wide. Jesus, Son of the most high God… and she found that she was weeping, tears spilling over and streaming down her cheeks as she remembered David’s innocent little prayer…

“Please, God, send Jesus… we need a miracle.”

Jesus looked down at the man grovelling at His feet, and there was pity written on His face. He spoke, His voice firm and with an authority that filled Lydia with awe. 

“Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit.”

“I adjure Thee by God, that Thou torment me not!” Levi wailed, pressing his face into the dirt. 

“What is thy name?” Jesus asked and the tortured man cried out again, clawing at the ground, almost writhing as if in pain.

“My name is Legion, for we are many.”

Lydia crept closer, wanting to remain hidden, and yet unable to look away. She had scarcely drawn breath since Jesus had first begun to speak. And Levi was pleading with Him… but it wasn’t Levi. There were a hundred voices coming from his mouth, begging Jesus to not send them from the country. So many voices, so unearthly, so filled with evil… and Lydia wept harder, her tears falling unheeded.

“Send us into the swine,” the devils cried. “That we may enter into them.”

Jesus’ answer was calm and yet there was anger in His voice.

“Go.”

Levi half-rose, his body twisting and flailing as he reached out in desperation, a horrible, strangled cry escaping his lips… and then he fell to the ground as if dead. 

Lydia clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. Behind her, the noise of the hogs rose into a deafening chorus and she whirled to stare in disbelief as every last one of those animals, all two thousand of them, leaped into the air and took off at a run, heads bent low as they screeched wildly. They kept running, never slacking their pace, as they careened violently down the slope and dashed into the sea. And there they were drowned.

Levi lay motionless at Jesus’ feet, his face turned away from Lydia. She clutched at her heart, her mind swirling to grasp the significance of what was happening. Jesus bent over the prostrate form and touched his head, gently. It seemed as if with that touch, the wounds on Levi’s body disappeared. Jesus spoke in a low voice… words of kindness and love… and then took the broken man by the hand and raised him up. Levi looked at Him, clear brown eyes shining with a life Lydia hadn’t seen there for so long. And on his face was a look of peace. 

“You there, young woman,” someone called out and Lydia stood, her hands trembling as she wiped away the tears in her eyes. One of the men who was with Jesus was coming near her. “Hurry, find some clothes for this man, bring some food. Go quickly.”

And she ran. She flew towards the village as if there were wings on her feet, and a joy filled her heart near to bursting. She felt like singing, like pouring out a joyful prayer, but the only words she could find to say were “I thank Thee, my Lord and my God, I thank Thee…” and she said it a hundred times over, her voice choked with sobs. 

She did not tarry long in the village, only long enough to gather up some of Levi’s old clothes that he had left behind long ago. She had left her basket in the hills and so she found another one, hurriedly shoving things into it and snatching food from the cupboard without stopping to look at what she took. As she hurried back down the streets, people called out to her, question after question following after her. She didn’t stop to answer any of them, only pressed her feet faster, longing to go to Levi, to hold him close, to look into his eyes again and know that he had returned to her.

But when she approached the group on the hillside, she went straight to Jesus, offering her basket with her eyes downcast as she murmured, “I thank Thee.” Jesus touched her shoulder gently, offering a kind smile that brought her tears back. The love in His eyes and the kindness in His touch… She fell at His feet, pouring out broken phrases of worship. Never for a moment did she doubt that He truly was the Messiah, the Son of God… and He had cared enough to bless her family with this miracle. 

How long had it been since her trouble began? Lydia could scarcely remember as she rose to see Levi standing before her, clothed and in his right mind… the man she loved, come back to her. It seemed a lifetime ago since she had last seen him looking like that, and strangely, somehow, like only yesterday. She wanted to run to him… but she stood still, waiting for him to speak. He stared at her, sorrow and regret brimming over in his eyes, and she stepped closer, holding her breath. She moved until she stood close beside him and for one long moment he looked down at her in silence. And then he knelt, bowing his head and holding out his hands.

“Lydia…” He whispered her name. She reached down, brushing her fingers across the palm of his right hand. 

“Levi,” she whispered back, wiping her eyes with the corner of her veil. “Levi, please… look at me… say something…” and yet, he did not move. She knelt before him, placing her hands into his, her heart warming when his hands closed around hers. But he did not lift his head.

“Lydia, forgive me,” he gasped out, and his shoulders shook with sobs. “Forgive me.” 

In silent answer she moved closer, pulling him against her heart, and he wept on her shoulder. 

oOo

The news spread like wildfire and a crowd gathered on the hillside by the tombs, both Jews and Gentiles, to gawk at Levi. They could scarcely believe their eyes to see the wild man sitting at Jesus’ side, calm and at peace. Lydia sat beside him, holding his hand tightly, just sitting silently as she let the joy and gratitude wash over her heart in waves.

Anna had come, bringing David in her arms and she set him down when he saw his mother and wriggled in impatience. He ran to her and threw his arms around her, and she turned his head so he could see his father.

“Look, my precious little one, here is your daddy,” she whispered, tears still trickling down her cheeks. “See? Jesus has come, and He has made daddy well again.” She nudged the little boy and he went to Levi. With one chubby little hand he reached out to touch his daddy’s face. Levi broke again, clutching the little boy close as he wept harder. 

Jesus laid His hand on David’s head and smiled tenderly at the father and son as He spoke.

“Let the little children come unto Me… for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”

Levi looked up, his big brown eyes wider and rounder than ever before.

“Are you Jesus?” he whispered in awe.

“I am.”

“Mommy…” David reached out to clutch at her sleeve, never tearing his eyes from Jesus’ face. “See? God sent a miracle.”

But the ever-growing crowd did not agree. They were afraid. And they were begging Jesus to leave… to leave! Lydia could scarcely believe her ears… here at last had come their great Deliverer… a Man who had rescued her husband from the clutches of an evil that none of them could understand… and they wanted Him to leave! They wanted nothing to do with Him, they only wanted Him out of their country. 

All that day and into the night, Levi and his little family sat to hear the words of Jesus. The crowd came and went, the people too afraid to listen, too afraid to even stay for long. This was a power they could not understand, and it terrified them. But to Levi, this power was life-giving.

“Let me be one of Thy disciples,” he pleaded. “I and my family, we will follow Thee.”

But Jesus shook His head, smiling as He reached out to clasp Levi’s hand.

“Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion on thee.” 

And with those words, He was gone… but He left behind Him an everlasting peace and a shining hope.