Other
Accident Report of a hog farmer
Based on Matthew 8:28-34
My stance was rigid, my breath short and ragged. My eyes darted nervously about as I scanned the herd of hogs I was watching. Chills crawled over my skin as I heard again the screams of the man of the tombs. Tortured and panicked thoughts ravaged my mind as I looked sharply to my left. The setting sin cast eerie shadows on the desolate tombs scattered across the bleak terrain. No one in their right mind would venture near this place that was death and gloom personified. In fact, the only one that did go near the tombs was crazy. Mentally crazy. And I had seen him. Twice. The memory was engraved in my mind forever. Every time I was assigned to watch the hogs during their evening feeding I was put through the agony and torture of reliving my nightmares. Nightmares brought on by those very screams that even now pierced the evening quiet. With the steep, rugged cliff directly in front of me, the haunted burial ground, and its fanatical resident to my left- it is understandable the frenzied state of mind I was in when the accident occurred. Because of my work location I was made to see the man of the tombs two miserable times. I’ll describe him so you can better understand my terror. This man, if that is what he truly is, wears no cloths and reeks of festering wounds, dirt, filth, and every other vile smell on this earth. Her hair is long and wild, his bread knotted and filthy. Scars mark his body from the many chains and fetter the villagers had tried, in vain, to bind him with. His voice is hoarse, frantic, and vicious. His super-human strength is rumored to come from unclean spirits that control his mind and body.
This was my emotional state when the unexpected happened. There I was, diligently watching the hogs, when the man of the tombs began screaming. It seemed as if the very root of evil was manifesting itself through his yells. Fright’s ugly tendrils wrapped itself around my heart and my breathing grew faint and raspy as I begun to shake uncontrollably. Staring at the graveyard I knew the exact moment when the evil man burst through the fog that was just beginning to settle. He was running straight toward me! Imagine my alarm and panic! Willing my body to run away as fast as possible I tripped over myself, stumbled, and fell backwards. Fear paralyzed my limbs as my thoughts tumbled over one another assuring me that this man meant to kill me! My eyes began to glaze over as I darted a look over my shoulder to see if there were any way for me to be saved. That’s when, to my right, I caught sight of a group of men walking toward the grave yard. Through my stupor I realized stupidly that the man of the tombs wasn’t coming after me, but was in fact headed straight for the men! Shock took hold of me, dulling my senses, and causing me to laugh madly. I wasn’t ok. My whole body shook and my mind was filled with hysteria. I was still on the ground from my clumsy fall and attempted to stand and see what these men were doing near the tombs. My legs were wobbly and they refused to hold my body up. Collapsing again to the ground I landed on my hands and knees. Nothing registered. I didn’t think, I didn’t feel, I just was. Hearing another scream that sounded wicked and fierce my neck snapped back, and my eyes widened in incredulity. My hogs, all my precious hogs that were my life and job, were voluntarily launching themselves to a watery grave. A high-pitched screeched “NO!” escaped my throat sending spasm of pains through my whole body. Then I remember nothing. I was released into blessed nothingness. I passed out.
I awoke gradually, blinking rapidly to rid myself of the grittiness in my eyes. A kind face with eyes that spoke of love and gentleness stared back at me. As I struggling to rise, the man offered me his strong arms and helped me to sit up. Waves of nausea swept over me and I was sick. Clutching my head between my hands I rocked back and forth trying to think. Nothing processed, nothing made sense.
“Here, drink this. It will help you to fell better,” another man said. I reached out to accept the offered cup gratefully when I saw who held the cup. It was the man of the tombs! Dread gripped me once again and I jerked back violently.
“It’s ok,” came a gentle voice that belonged to the man that helped me sit up. “My name is Jesus and by the power of God I have cast the demons from this man. He is a new creature. Look on him and tell me what you see.”
I reluctantly turned wary eyes on the man in question. Surprise filled my eyes as I noticed that he was clothed, his hair and beard had been tended to, but most surprising of all was that he was in his right mind and smiling! “Peace.” I replied in astonishment. “He’s so peaceful.”
“That he is, child,” Jesus responded. “I sent away the demons that had for many years tortured and used him, into the hogs so he might have peace and be free to live once again.”
Hogs! My mind jerked back to reality. I scrambled to my feet breathless and worried. In desperation I scanned the cliff and corral for my precious hogs. They were gone, all of them. Misery etched its cruel lines on my face as I staggered to the edge of the cliff. The sight was not a pleasant one. I stared inanely at the bodies of the hogs bobbing at the surface of the water. The waves would lift them up as if to carry them out to sea only to crash them against the sharp rocks with cruelty. Fear and anger filled my heart as I turned and glared accusingly at the group of men that gazed at me with something akin to compassion. I pushed passed the men and their pitying stares and ran all the way back to the company.
“And that, sir, is what happened. So, do I report for work tomorrow or should I clean out the stall and head for the hills?”
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