Those seven demons lived within me for as long as I could
remember. Those seven would have stayed forever
if not for Him. I was in the marketplace when he made his way towards me. This was no small feat, as the crowds moved
with him. He took a step and so did they;
but he was determined as he led them to where I was standing. I suddenly felt chill. The demons inside of
me wanted to flee. They knew who he
was.
I had heard
of this man of Galilee, the one who healed the sick and lame. I’d heard how he cast out demons. I’d heard of how he gave hope to the people
and put fear in the hearts of the hypocrites. When he approached me he said
“Daughter, you are tormented and distressed.
Those within you seek to destroy you.
I can release you. Are you
willing?” I barely had the courage to
nod for I knew the demons within me were indeed trying to destroy me. That, and there was something true in this
man, this teacher, something I had never known before. So, I nodded, hoping --almost praying that he
would and could help me. I was hoping that I could be better than what I had
become. He commanded that the demons leave me.
I felt a sweet release as they all fled- all 7 of them.
I hadn’t
felt peace since I was a very young child. It was as if I was suddenly the
person that I should have been all along.
Joy flooded my being. I looked up
at the Master. He smiled. I arose only
to fall at his feet. My torturers had
left and I had a savior in their place. I knew I believed in him. But, it was a very long time before I
believed in much else or even before I realized who he was and is. I knew only that Jesus had rescued me from the
demons. I didn’t know or care that he was the Son of God –not yet. I only knew the void was replaced with peace
and joy.
I sold my
possessions and went wherever Jesus happened to ministering. As I listened to him teach and as I saw more
of his miracles, I began to understand who
he was and what he was doing. I remember the day I realized
that Jesus was the Son of God… the Messiah.
I had been sitting under his teaching for some months and he was talking
about the Kingdom of Heaven. When he
spoke I could hear nothing else. He
spoke of Heavenly things as if they were everyday things. He spoke of loving your neighbors and praying
for your enemies as if it had always been expected. He had such authority in
his voice that I believed.
Listening to many of his parables and much of his teaching I
began to understand the things of the Kingdom.
My gratitude had grown into a reverent love for my Lord, the Messiah.
Then, he
was gone.
One of the
disciples came to tell Jesus’ mother and the other women that the Romans had
taken Jesus to go before Pilate. How
could they condemn such a man? It must
be a mistake. They must be looking for
someone else. It couldn’t be him. But,
it was. My tears and shouts to free him went unheard in the crowd that cried
out for the innocent blood of the Master.
The twelve had gone into hiding and so we all hid for fear that the
Romans would come for us also. I could
do nothing, nothing but cry. The sheer terror of any crucifixion was more than
most could bear. Added to that the
humiliation that was poured upon the Savior and it spoke volumes of the love of
the Lord for his people. It broke my
heart to see him hanging on a cross, a cross he didn’t deserve. Yet, he took it
all with a patient peace which I haven’t seen since nor can I adequately
describe it for you.
Later, some
of the other women and I prepared the burial spices. There had been no time on Friday to
prepare. So, after the Sabbath, we went
to the grave, hoping somehow we could get in to finish preparing the body. We didn’t know how we would live without him
or even if they would come after us next.
We didn’t know many things.
He just…
wasn’t there.
For a
moment, we thought someone had stolen him away.
I had heard of such things with other so-called great teachers and we
knew the Romans had posted soldiers for such a case. We ran out of the cave where they had laid
him and met, what we believed, to be a gardener. Thinking about it now, it’s almost laughable
that we would mistake the Son of God for a gardener. But, there he was alive and talking. “Go tell
my disciples” was barely out of his mouth before I began my run to where the
disciples were hiding. Such joy will never be felt again on the earth. He was alive, alive and with us.
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