Make Room for Your Miracle by Mahesh Chavda, Bonnie Chavda Page A
Authors: Mahesh Chavda, Bonnie Chavda
Tags: REL079000
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realm of victory and the realm of the Spirit.
As long as you are prepared for battle, never be afraid to fight. If God is for us, it does not matter who is against us.
6
S TANDING ON THE T HRESHOLD
OF A M IRACLE
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their
wounds.
Psalm 147:3
The Shunammite Speaks . . .
We had not seen Elisha since the new moon when we had gone to Carmel where he sat among the prophets. I now even more than Joktan took an interest in their preaching, and so I was always urging him to take me or send one of the servants with me. And we always took a gift.
The day began like any other. Bread-making, the soft thump-thud-thump-thud of the loom under the hand of the women in the household, a servant child’s whine, the goats’ bleating and the warmth of the brazier and open fire—all equally inviting. By that time we had twenty persons in our household besides my husband and myself.
The spring in our valley is a regal time. The rolling carpet of winter wheat and waves of wildflowers paint the landscape in broad swaths of color beneath our blossoming trees. Everything of spring is hope and life anew. The morning passed without event, and by midafternoon a lull had folded peacefully into the compound.
Elisha and Gehazi had arrived some hours before and taken the stairs to the upper room without a word. I was in the storehouse mixing spices for the stew we would have for our evening meal when I sensed a presence behind me.
“Mistress?” It was Gehazi.
I turned, only slightly startled. “Yes, Gehazi?”
“My master bids you come.”
And so the two servants of Elisha— Gehazi and the Shunammite—went to the roof to wait on the man of God.
I paused under the shade of the trellis, maintaining respectful distance from the entrance to the prophet’s room. Gehazi passed over the threshold and disappeared into shadow. I stood waiting and reached out absently to pick one or two wilting leaves from the tangle of vine upon the trellis. The roses filled the air with sweetness. The murmur of soft voices drifted from the room as Elisha gave his man instructions. I gazed contentedly over my Jezreel valley.
The wiry frame of Gehazi reappeared in the doorway, and he spoke to me.
“You have gone to much trouble for us, mistress,” he said. “My master wishes you to know that your considerations have not gone unheeded.” Gehazi nodded toward Elisha, whom I could see reclining upon his bed.
“He says, look now, after all this concern for us what is it he may do for you in return? Is there something for which he may intercede, perhaps with the king or his militia in these parts? The man of God would gladly represent you and your husband’s request.”
“Oh, thank you, but, no,” I said. “As you can see we have need of little here. And as for the king’s men, our clan inhabits this city fairly. I dwell among my own people. Please thank him for his kindness in thinking of us.” I turned to go, and Gehazi retreated into the shadows once again.
I started down the stair and heard their voices behind me. My thoughts were returning to our meal preparations when Gehazi’s voice called to me from above.
“Hold a moment, mistress,” he said.
I turned on the stair.
“Please come,” he motioned me back and across the roof once again.
This time I heard the voice of the prophet.
“Shunammite, come near to me,” Elisha said.
I approached Elisha’s door.
“Sir?” I said.
Out of the dim room Elisha spoke. “Come nearer.”
Gehazi stepped aside and motioned me to the threshold. This was a place of intimacy with the man of God such as I had never experienced. Usually I was in the presence of Joktan or my maids or in the company of those who went to Carmel to hear him. His eyes intensified as he gazed upon me. The air around me changed. It felt like the crispness of a coming storm. He spoke abruptly.
“You have no children in this house?”
His words seemed to rumble through my being like
As long as you are prepared for battle, never be afraid to fight. If God is for us, it does not matter who is against us.
6
S TANDING ON THE T HRESHOLD
OF A M IRACLE
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their
wounds.
Psalm 147:3
The Shunammite Speaks . . .
We had not seen Elisha since the new moon when we had gone to Carmel where he sat among the prophets. I now even more than Joktan took an interest in their preaching, and so I was always urging him to take me or send one of the servants with me. And we always took a gift.
The day began like any other. Bread-making, the soft thump-thud-thump-thud of the loom under the hand of the women in the household, a servant child’s whine, the goats’ bleating and the warmth of the brazier and open fire—all equally inviting. By that time we had twenty persons in our household besides my husband and myself.
The spring in our valley is a regal time. The rolling carpet of winter wheat and waves of wildflowers paint the landscape in broad swaths of color beneath our blossoming trees. Everything of spring is hope and life anew. The morning passed without event, and by midafternoon a lull had folded peacefully into the compound.
Elisha and Gehazi had arrived some hours before and taken the stairs to the upper room without a word. I was in the storehouse mixing spices for the stew we would have for our evening meal when I sensed a presence behind me.
“Mistress?” It was Gehazi.
I turned, only slightly startled. “Yes, Gehazi?”
“My master bids you come.”
And so the two servants of Elisha— Gehazi and the Shunammite—went to the roof to wait on the man of God.
I paused under the shade of the trellis, maintaining respectful distance from the entrance to the prophet’s room. Gehazi passed over the threshold and disappeared into shadow. I stood waiting and reached out absently to pick one or two wilting leaves from the tangle of vine upon the trellis. The roses filled the air with sweetness. The murmur of soft voices drifted from the room as Elisha gave his man instructions. I gazed contentedly over my Jezreel valley.
The wiry frame of Gehazi reappeared in the doorway, and he spoke to me.
“You have gone to much trouble for us, mistress,” he said. “My master wishes you to know that your considerations have not gone unheeded.” Gehazi nodded toward Elisha, whom I could see reclining upon his bed.
“He says, look now, after all this concern for us what is it he may do for you in return? Is there something for which he may intercede, perhaps with the king or his militia in these parts? The man of God would gladly represent you and your husband’s request.”
“Oh, thank you, but, no,” I said. “As you can see we have need of little here. And as for the king’s men, our clan inhabits this city fairly. I dwell among my own people. Please thank him for his kindness in thinking of us.” I turned to go, and Gehazi retreated into the shadows once again.
I started down the stair and heard their voices behind me. My thoughts were returning to our meal preparations when Gehazi’s voice called to me from above.
“Hold a moment, mistress,” he said.
I turned on the stair.
“Please come,” he motioned me back and across the roof once again.
This time I heard the voice of the prophet.
“Shunammite, come near to me,” Elisha said.
I approached Elisha’s door.
“Sir?” I said.
Out of the dim room Elisha spoke. “Come nearer.”
Gehazi stepped aside and motioned me to the threshold. This was a place of intimacy with the man of God such as I had never experienced. Usually I was in the presence of Joktan or my maids or in the company of those who went to Carmel to hear him. His eyes intensified as he gazed upon me. The air around me changed. It felt like the crispness of a coming storm. He spoke abruptly.
“You have no children in this house?”
His words seemed to rumble through my being like
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