Chapter 7

Mary paused and smiled as she remembered the joyous times of walking the roads to new places.
“The walk toward Bethsadia was filled with lively conversations. I heard the disciples talking about many things that had happened before I joined them. There were miracles they spoke of and parables that Jesus had told to each town or village that He would visit. The disciples talked of the size of the crowd and how it grew larger with each day.
“The day began with just a few people, but by the time our belly’s began to growl, you couldn’t tell where the crowd ended”. Peter’s voice was loud and gruff and his hands gestured with such enthusiasim as he spoke.
“Are you comparing the crowd to the size of the last fish you caught”, James shouted.
Everyone erupted with laughter because Peter was known for his tall tales of fish and his rough exterior, both physically and vocally.
Peter waved his hand at James as if to dismiss him like a child then went on with his own story.
“ People were being cured of diseases and demons and I saw a little girl that had been brought back to life.”
It was not unusual for Peter to excite the crowd with his stories but leave out a few details. We learned later that not only Peter, but John and James were also in the room when Jesus raised the little girl.
John’s version of the same events were softer in its re-telling. That’s how John is. Soft spoken and shy. Someone asked John for his account of the miracle.
“Jesus brought us three in the room as the cries of the women echoed in the small chamber where the beautiful little girl lay. She looked as if she were sleeping but her body made no movement towards life.” John’s voice became a whisper as we all leaned in to hear his next words.
“My dear child, get up.” With those few words, the girl’s breath drowned the mourning women out side and filled the room with the scent of life.”
“We all sighed deep as if we had been holding our own breath in unison with the little girl, anticipating Jesus’ words.
Who is this that He could bring someone back to life with just a touch of His hand. And could He also destroy a life with that same touch? There were moments along the road where I wondered if I had made the right decision in following this Jesus. But I was in awe of Him and the things He spoke of and the things He did.
The road to Bethsaida was important in my life. I didn’t understand anything about God. I didn’t know the prophets of old or scripture. And in some ways, I felt responsible for Taphitha being with me. What if this whole thing, this Kingdom business was a farce? And I had drug another human being along. As my thoughts tried to betray my heart and this path I had chosen, I rememberd my mother reading scriptures I could never will myself to memorize. I wanted to know what everyone else thought of Jesus. I wanted to know what the scriptures said about Him. Was He just another prophet? Was He a madman, leading us all to a disturbing death? It was an interesting array of opinions and firm beliefs. Most of the men thought that Jesus was some sort of revolutiary leader. That He was going to build up an army to fight the Roman’s strong hold on the Jewish people. But in all the time I was with them, I never saw a sword or heard Jesus speak of fighting in the literal sense. If we were planning to go to battle against Rome, it would have been an easy victory on Rome’s behalf. The women seemed to view Jesus in a different way. Most of the women in the company had been cured of diseases or demons. Some were prostitutes-former prostitutes. Some were just women that didn’t seem to belong to the world. They were different. Not the prettiest, not the most intelligent. We were a mixed group. Wealthy, poor, common, beautiful, slave, and free. Freedom! That is what every woman spoke of when talking about Jesus. He did something for these women that no man had done before. He liberated them. He liberated me. Just as the men looked to Jesus as a leader to set the nation free, we women looked to Him as a leader to set us free from a different form of captivity. In Jesus’ eyes and His manner, He treated us with such compassion. Such love and respect. In Him, we all saw our value. Jesus would walk with us, laugh and speak to us with dignity.
“You are the beauty of God, daughters of the most High King.” There would be tears in His eyes as he would speak.
“Don’t you know that your Abba sings over you while you sleep. He holds your tears in a bottle. You are valued, precious children.”
“ I longed for someone to care for me that much. Yes, my father, my earthly father loved me, but his eyes were still on the prize of money and fame. But a God who is so vast as to create a universe and so intimate as to hold my tears, even the ones I cried in a drunken state, that is a God, a King I wanted to serve. And this Jesus. My thoughts were confused as I spent more time with Him. Moments of jealousy would appear as I would see Him talking with other women, especially young ones. I felt I wasn’t the only one conflicted. Cutting eyes and muffled sounds from some of the women were obvious signs of jealousy.”