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Lord I believe
by tope Ogundare
12/16/12
Not For Sale
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"Help me"

Prostrate,face down at the foot of the Teacher-
who was reported to have the ears of God-he
lay,tears streaming down his face. He was the
picture of a man at his wit's end. His words were
laced with desperation. He was at the point of
giving up.

The words of the Teacher reverberated in his mind:
"If only you believe;anything is possible"

He knew that there was only one person who could
determine the outcome of this encounter with the
much acclaimed miracle worker, himself-Gaius,
father of Jason, who was at this moment staring
blankly at the last hope he had of a meaningful life-
and only one thing was required of him; to believe.

Faith was the only thing he had in short supply;
years of searching for a cure for his son's ailment
has exhausted its reserves. Every recommended
treatment has drawn a large amount from its well
and -with each failure-has squandered it. Now, the
well was running dry. He couldn't afford to raise his
hopes only to have it shattered again...and yet he
must.

He watched in the agony felt only by a parent
experiencing the loss of a child as another fit took
hold of his son. It started with a rapid blinking of
the eyes and smacking of the lips, then the right
hand began to twitch.

The crowd gathered round receded with a mixture
of fear,surprise, curiosity and fascination.

His son was now on the floor jerking violently, with
foam oozing out of his mouth. Next, his tunic
became wet, filling the air with the pungent smell of
ammonia; then he uttered a piercing scream before
finally becoming limp.

Silence hung in the air as the people waited to see
what happened next. Moments later, the boy
opened his eyes and stood up, fully aware of what
had happened- the evidence was unmistakable.

The man watched with a broken heart as his son
tried and failed to hold back the tears; and
struggling to muster enough courage to hold his
head high but not finding it; his head was bowed
and his eyes fixed on the ground. Unknown to him,
a groan escaped his mouth.

"How long has this being going on?" the Teacher
asked

"Since he was a child" he answered,his eyes
looking upwards pleading

"Help me" he cried, fresh tears coursing down his
cheeks spurred on by years of frustration, pain and
dashed expectations.

And then he did it. He let down the pitcher and
drew from the drying well of faith. But all he could
come up with was a few drops. That would have to
do

"Lord, I believe!" he said, but fast on the heels of
those words were waves of doubt. He had believed
before-several times in fact- in all the healers he
had visited. Each encounter had filled him with high
hopes and great expectation based on great words
of praise from those who had recommended them,
but they had all ended the same way-failure and
disappointment.

"if only you believe" the words echoed in his mind
"anything is possible". Anything. That singular word
became a chant, till it filled his whole being.
Anything!

"Lord, I believe!" his voice was louder- and maybe
with more assurance, because the doubts were
slow in coming; but they were still there.

Because he knew that was the best he could
muster- and he also knew that it might not be
enough to get what he desired- he added " help me
with my doubts, help my unbelief"

That must have been enough for the Teacher, for he
immediately turned and faced the boy

"Come out of him" he commanded "and never
return"

And that was all it took; a single sentence.

The boy fell down and jerked violently uttering high
pitched cries that cut through the air like a knife.
He thrashed about for a minute and then went limp,
becoming pale like a ghost.

The father's heart stopped beating, he stood
transfixed unable to move a muscle. His son was
dead.

"He's dead" several voices from the crowd
whispered. They couldn't understand it. This was
unlike what they had heard and seen from the
Teacher. What went wrong? And why was the
Teacher not doing anything?

Panic surged through the boy's father and his
breathing came in short painful gasps. No, it
Vcouldn't be. This was not the way it was supposed
to turn out. His son was supposed to get well not
dead.

"if you believe" the voice returned "anything is
possible". Anything. Again the word became a
chant- anything, anything, anything- until his whole
body pulsated with it.
His son could not be dead. He was convinced he
wasn't dead.

By now the Teacher was standing over the boy,
reaching down and lifting him by the hands. A gasp
of surprise broke out from the crowd as the boy
opened his eyes and stood up. Fresh tears ran
down the father's eyes as he rushed forward to
embrace his son. Everything was going to be
normal now.

Then he fell down at the feet of the Teacher and
worshipped. And, he realized at that moment that
the well that had run dry was now full:
Anything is possible, by Faith.

"Be not afraid, only believe"- Christ



Email: anabiophs@yahoo.co.uk

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Member Comments
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Jennifer Alexander 17 Dec 2012
Excellent, and strikingly so. Transported me into the story as you did yourself while writing it, I am sure.




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