asked.
Simon pointed to a small room curtained off by a wool blanket. Jesus entered the room to find the old woman wrapped tightly in bed linens and complaining of the cold.
“She’s been like this for days,” her daughter said. “Her fever is high, and nothing seems to help.”
Jesus put His hand on her head and spoke. “Fever, depart from this daughter of Abraham.”
For a moment the woman lay there without moving or saying a word. Then all at once she sat up, peeled off the layers of bed linens, got up with the helping hand Jesus offered her, and headed off to the kitchen chattering about fixing something to eat. Simon saw it happen but said nothing and darted out the door.
By the time the sun went down, the word had spread, and everyone who had anyone sick in his house brought the person to Jesus. One by one He placed His hands on the infirm and healed them. I tell you, the evil spirits left in droves, screaming all the way. One of them flew right by me and cried out, “It’s Adonai! Aren’t you afraid?”
Afraid? Why would I be afraid? Should I be afraid?
Jesus silenced the fleeing spirits, refusing to let them speak again, I suppose because they knew who He was and He didn’t want them making the people nervous about having God spend the night.
The next day we left, heading for open country. But the crowds soon followed, and when they found Him, they clung to Him so He couldn’t go on. Jesus tried to reason with them.
“Don’t you realize that there are yet other villages where I have to tell the message of God’s kingdom? This is the work God sent Me to do.”
No, Jesus, they don’t know and don’t care about anyone else’s problems. Furthermore, this is getting out of hand. You’re going to need some bodyguards. The crowds are getting too large for You to handle alone.
I believe Jesus realized the same thing. The throngs of people would crush against Him, making it impossible to escape. Later on, when Jesus went down to the Lake of Gennesaret, the people were already there and began to squeeze in around Him. He looked around until He saw two boats at the water’s edge left there by the fishermen who were washing their nets. Jesus climbed into one of the boats and sat down. I didn’t get in with Him because I saw the burly fisherman come running toward his boat with fish spear in hand. I recognized him when he got closer. I thought it best if I held back on the shore to see what he would do with the spear if he thought Jesus was stealing his boat.
“Where do You think You’re going with my boat?”
“It’s Me, Simon. I stayed at your house last night.”
“Sorry, Rabbi. The Son was in my eyes.”
“Can you take Me out a little ways so I can talk to the people without them rushing Me?”
That was about the last thing Simon wanted to do. In that region the fishermen fished in the evening, and Simon had been at it all night long and—judging by his empty nets—with no success. He was tired, cranky, and anxious to get home. Seeing no one else around to hand Jesus off to, he groused under his breath and agreed.
“I guess I can do it, but make it short, alright?”
Jesus must have talked for an hour. Simon finally lay down at the front of the boat and went to sleep. When Jesus finished talking, He woke him up.
“Let’s go fishing.”
“What?” Simon shrugged off the grogginess of an afternoon nap. “Fish don’t bite in the middle of the day.”
“Come on, Simon. Let’s take a chance. Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”
Simon yawned and shook his head as he stood up and stretched.
“Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. I’m happy to have been of help, but we need to head for home now.”
Jesus said nothing but made no moves suggesting that He intended to get out of the boat. Simon looked toward one of his men on the shore, who gave a hand signal that he was willing to go out if Simon said so. Simon looked
Simon pointed to a small room curtained off by a wool blanket. Jesus entered the room to find the old woman wrapped tightly in bed linens and complaining of the cold.
“She’s been like this for days,” her daughter said. “Her fever is high, and nothing seems to help.”
Jesus put His hand on her head and spoke. “Fever, depart from this daughter of Abraham.”
For a moment the woman lay there without moving or saying a word. Then all at once she sat up, peeled off the layers of bed linens, got up with the helping hand Jesus offered her, and headed off to the kitchen chattering about fixing something to eat. Simon saw it happen but said nothing and darted out the door.
By the time the sun went down, the word had spread, and everyone who had anyone sick in his house brought the person to Jesus. One by one He placed His hands on the infirm and healed them. I tell you, the evil spirits left in droves, screaming all the way. One of them flew right by me and cried out, “It’s Adonai! Aren’t you afraid?”
Afraid? Why would I be afraid? Should I be afraid?
Jesus silenced the fleeing spirits, refusing to let them speak again, I suppose because they knew who He was and He didn’t want them making the people nervous about having God spend the night.
The next day we left, heading for open country. But the crowds soon followed, and when they found Him, they clung to Him so He couldn’t go on. Jesus tried to reason with them.
“Don’t you realize that there are yet other villages where I have to tell the message of God’s kingdom? This is the work God sent Me to do.”
No, Jesus, they don’t know and don’t care about anyone else’s problems. Furthermore, this is getting out of hand. You’re going to need some bodyguards. The crowds are getting too large for You to handle alone.
I believe Jesus realized the same thing. The throngs of people would crush against Him, making it impossible to escape. Later on, when Jesus went down to the Lake of Gennesaret, the people were already there and began to squeeze in around Him. He looked around until He saw two boats at the water’s edge left there by the fishermen who were washing their nets. Jesus climbed into one of the boats and sat down. I didn’t get in with Him because I saw the burly fisherman come running toward his boat with fish spear in hand. I recognized him when he got closer. I thought it best if I held back on the shore to see what he would do with the spear if he thought Jesus was stealing his boat.
“Where do You think You’re going with my boat?”
“It’s Me, Simon. I stayed at your house last night.”
“Sorry, Rabbi. The Son was in my eyes.”
“Can you take Me out a little ways so I can talk to the people without them rushing Me?”
That was about the last thing Simon wanted to do. In that region the fishermen fished in the evening, and Simon had been at it all night long and—judging by his empty nets—with no success. He was tired, cranky, and anxious to get home. Seeing no one else around to hand Jesus off to, he groused under his breath and agreed.
“I guess I can do it, but make it short, alright?”
Jesus must have talked for an hour. Simon finally lay down at the front of the boat and went to sleep. When Jesus finished talking, He woke him up.
“Let’s go fishing.”
“What?” Simon shrugged off the grogginess of an afternoon nap. “Fish don’t bite in the middle of the day.”
“Come on, Simon. Let’s take a chance. Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”
Simon yawned and shook his head as he stood up and stretched.
“Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. I’m happy to have been of help, but we need to head for home now.”
Jesus said nothing but made no moves suggesting that He intended to get out of the boat. Simon looked toward one of his men on the shore, who gave a hand signal that he was willing to go out if Simon said so. Simon looked
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