Surprised by Death - A Father's Anguish

Surprised by Death

Move on, move on my child is dying! The crowd was huge, each jostling for the best view, like river water bursting at its banks. I see many faces that eventful day. Faces looking for thrills, any will do, faces that looked for excitement, faces that looked for juicier stories to gossip, faces of unbelief, faces beaming with confidence. However, there are also faces which bear years of wrinkles of suffering and hardships, faces that looked for hope that seemed so lost, faces that needed healing, faces that needed an extraordinary touch of something, of anything.

I managed to push myself to the front of the crowd, I thought I had legitimate reasons to do so for my talitha is dying. I had all kinds of favours asked of me in the synagogues, so I figured a big favour now for a great man of God isn’t something too big for him. I overheard them talking that he calmed the storm with words just last night, and they talked also about the Porky Pork Story. It seemed so unbelievably that he had just delivered the Incredible Hulk who terrorized us through the demons. Truthfully, I am at my wits end. He represented my last resort. My daughter is my everything. She reminded me so much of her mother. If anyone can do it, it is this Man.

Move on, move on my child is dying! When they got off the boat, this Jesus gazed at me as if He knew what I was about to ask of him. Just by looking at his eyes, I knew He loved me, He cares for me, cares for my talitha. Strange that such a stranger would exudes eyes of warm and love. I fell at his feet for I thought it makes my request more genuine. I uttered my request as if my life depended on it, and ironically, my child’s life does, that my little girl is dying and for him to come to and put his hands and heal my daughter. I spoke as if I had rehearsed the words for so long. In fact, I had rehearsed it a zillion times on the way from my house to the lake. I was surprised that He just went with me without much fanfare. I was surprised and amazed at his ease of approachability, his caring attitude despite not knowing me. I was surprised to note that a fame healer like him, moved and acted upon my first request for help as if I had the power to pull the strings to move him.

Move on, move on my child is dying! Jewish people are too curious a people. Some followed because they knew this Jesus is heading to my house, the rest followed because the crowd moved, not knowing where they are heading. They wouldn’t have cared a great deal even if we were heading to the toilet. I was quite anxious that the crowd moved too slowly. Suddenly, Jesus stopped as if concerned about something and asked who touched him. Its like going to the temple during the Passover Celebrations and asked who touched you? Of course everyone’s touching him for we are liked a packed of dried anchovies in the food leatherskin. It sounded so silly. One of the disciples, the burly one, spoke as if in a ridiculing tone echoing the same what was on everyone’s mind, “we do not know who touched you...” Despite that, I saw Jesus’ endearing eyes looking out for someone that he was to find. His eyes seeking out… A woman came forward trembling and fell at His feet, sorry for her mistake, to admit her touch…… His touch guarantees healing, however, this time, He was the receiver of a touch.

Move on, move on my child is dying! Good for you, you are healed O nameless, faceless woman, but my child is dying and you are taking precious time away from the healer, from the child who’s only hope of survival is through a miraculous healing. Every moment that ticked away, is a moment closer to imminent death for my child. Hurry up, women! Hurry up, crowd! Hurry up, Jesus! Can’t all these wait till my child is healed. Definitely the woman wouldn’t have bleed to death. She had bled for 12 years, what is another 1 hour more? Jesus is making mountains out of mole hills. However, Jesus appeared to have healed her of her unclean state of bleeding and oblivious to the fact that he was on a 999 emergency trip to save someone seriously ill, as he spoke to the women and assuring her that her faith had healed her and restoring her to our Jewish society. I began to reluctantly understand a bit that Jesus wanted to proclaim to all present that she is no longer ceremonially unclean. Certainly we cannot see her faith but certainly Jesus felt her action of a touch. Perhaps faith without action is dead. Talking about this, do I have this faith? They have always told us to mourn with those who mourn. That was easy. I find it so hard to rejoice with those who rejoice. The last time I was passed as a synagogue leader for another, I certainly didn’t feel happy for the other who was promoted ….

Just then, people ran hysterically to me and half catching their breadth and half spitting out the news that my child had died. It took too long for the healer to get to my sick child. Now, all is vain. If there is life, there is hope. Now, in death all my hopes evaporated. Tears immediately filled my eyes. I wasn’t quite sure the tears were for sadness or in disappointment that the Healer took too long. My heart was overwhelmed with sorrow, my throat dried up. I died a thousand deaths, wished that death would have taken me as well. My little girl, pride of my life, beauty of my soul, joy of my joy, she was just growing into a beautiful young lady, and she even had her mum’s dimples…. Now gone. How can I carry on? How can I live without her? What have I done to deserve this?

Move on, move on, my child is dead! Jesus saw the news had affected me very much and patted me on the shoulder to say, “don’t be afraid, only believe.” He looked at me with the same look that I first saw him near the lake, warm, knowing what he was doing, with immense care. He told me not to be afraid, for I was shaking like a leaf perhaps both due to fear and my sorrow. To ask me not to be afraid is like asking a hungry baby not to cry. When governed by my insecurities, I become emotionally afraid. That is natural. Perhaps it is his way of telling me to exhibit something different, something unexpected even when it is natural to exhibit the expected. Perhaps it is his way of teaching me to trust when its natural to distrust, to believe when the situation gets so unbelievably hopeless. Perhaps it is time to contemplate and witness that there is life even in death. Like the ark in Noah’s time was provided as an escape to all but instead our forefathers chose to treat it as a curse, as a punishment along with the rain and flood. Just as in death in my daughter’s case, will it be used to magnify the glory of the God that this man serves. Death to demonstrate life, what an irony!

I want to believe help my unbelief! He started walking toward our house, each step purposeful, as if some glory is supposed to be revealed. I followed, strutting out each step matching his. My tears have stopped flowing already, replaced with beads of perspiration, replaced with anticipation, replaced with an air of confidence that comes from Him. Are my steps that matched His considered faith to Jesus? Like our patriarch Abraham who was considered faithful when he put him son Isaac on the altar? Could it be?

We approached my house, there were loud wailing, there were so much commotion. Jesus spoke and was audible enough for most to listen despite the background noise. He said “she is not dead, she is sleeping” . Immediately He was greeted with cynical laughter. The kind of laughter that you get when you cannot do a simple arithmetic in front of your unforgiving class. The kind, that implies that you are silly. A withered leaf, is only hibernating? No wonder they laughed so hard. But then I thought they should not laugh so for they too have heard about the tidal waves scene, and the casting of the Porky Chop Joe’s demons. Bleeding Barbara’s case perhaps have not reached their eyes. But I see it happening again. The Great Man of God forbade more being revealed to those who would not believe, who would not soften their hearts, who would not consider to even want to believe. It heard it happened during the healing of the man with the shriveled hand, the casting of the demon, telling of parables instead of plain messages, and the people who witnessed the pigs, and now its happening again. He was constantly bombarded with unbelief. He always appear to stop people from knowing and hearing more for those who have consistently disbelieve and consistently hardened their hearts and understanding of who He might be. He disallowed crowds to follow Him further. He only chose the burly follower of His and 2 others to see my little girl. By now her body had slowly but beginning to turn cold. My precious girl, so full of life, so full of cheer, so full of affection just days before, now lies there very cold, very lifeless, and very dead. Tears filled my eyes once again to see her in this state.

Jesus walked towards my girl and spoke in a tender but authoritative tone, “Talitha koum.” Immediately I saw my girl’s eyes were opened, her eyelids shutter a couple of times in attempt to wet her dry cornea. She folded her arms and rubbed each of the elbows for my guess is that she was feeling cold. She sat up on the edge of the bed and placed her legs on the floor and looked around the room and immediately got up to walk. She appeared to know who had spoken to her. Jesus responded to her by instructing us to give her something to eat and instructed us not to tell anyone.

Its so unbelievable! O this Jesus, the marvelous Son of God. Giver of life, Giver of faith, makes the faithless faithful, fears get cast out in the midst of His voice. O this Jesus, lover of our souls. How can I not believe in the midst of so many proves. Looking back, my turning point of fear, anguish, and hopelessness comes when he spoke to my fears, then comes the choice, I choose to put forward my steps, I choose to believe. Even in death there is hope!