A Difficult Secret to Keep
I just returned from Israel, where I visited the area where Jesus performed this miracle. This story and His Word came alive in my heart!
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A laser like ray of sunshine pierced her eyes waking her up to pounding headache from only a few hours of sleep on the floor.
The steely fingers of reality gripped her chest and flooded her mind with all the prayers mixed with lullabies that wrestled against her daughter’s moans until the medicine kicked in. The sweetness of frankinse and the licorice scent of myrrh she rubbed on the girl’s forehead still lingered in the air.
She sighed as she examined the room through a kaleidoscope of tears. Everything looked tidy yet out of place- empty jugs of water and wet rags on the floor took the place of pink shoes and medicinal oils replaced dolls on the white nightstand.
Playful sounds outside pulled her towards the window, where children ran and laughed on the street.
Why are they playing while my baby is dying?
She grabbed her head with both hands in a desperate attempt to stop the throbbing pain
Memories of laughter, bedtime cuddles and games succumbed to paralyzing thoughts of death and a childless future.
The door opened and her trusted maid, who had taken care of her since she was a child, walked in with a clean dress in her arm. With caring eyes and a tender smile, the old lady stroked her hair and fixed the head scarf hanging down her back.
She clenched her teeth and yanked the delicate scarf out of the old lady’s hand
“Stop it! Stop trying to fix me! I don’t care what I look like. Don’t you think I haven’t looked in the mirror today? I know I don’t look like the poised, elegant wife of the head of the synagogue everyone admires so much! I don’t care about my swollen eyes and my messy hair. I don’t care that I’ve worn this dress for two days, and don’t tell me to take it off.”
“Ok, calm down my dear,” the old lady responded.
She surrendered sheepishly into her friend’s understanding and loving embrace
“What is taking him so long? I can’t stand this any longer,” she asked in a desperate whisper.
The young mother clamped her bottom lip between her teeth trying to keep her emotions under control. The burning in her eyes and warm tears on her face proved her wrong.
“I don’t know,” the maid responded as she looked out the window. “There’re hundreds of people in the crowd out there. They seemed to be moving in this direction, but it looks like they stopped walking.”
“Do you think Jairus will able to talk to the Rabbi?” she asked.
“I hope so,” the old lady replied. “But won’t that get him in trouble?”
A stab in the pit of her stomach screamed the answer.
“Yes. We discussed it already. It will be considered like a slap in the face of the Pharisees, especially if Jairus humiliates himself publicly before the Rabi. We’ll probably lose everything, wealth, reputation, and he’ll lose his position in the synagogue. I can almost hear the accusations and the gossip. But I don’t care as long as our daughter gets well. You know what’s happening everywhere He goes: the blind are seeing again, the lame are walking, those who were lepers are now cured, the deaf are hearing, the dead are being raised. Don’t you see? Jesus is our only hope! That’s why Jairus has to do whatever it takes to convince Him to come: beg, plead, get on his knees if necessary!”
A faint cry interrupted the heated conversation. The little girl’s breathing was much slower and shallower than before.
She looked so small and fragile under all the covers. It was hard to believe she had just turned twelve, that only a few days ago she was playing and laughing with the same children having fun outside at that same moment. Was it a few days, or an eternity ago?
“She’s burning up!” the young mother said as she touched her daughter’s forehead.
The blood in her veins turned to ice as she looked closer.
“No! She stopped breathing! Please, send someone to get Jairus now!”
Sobbing uncontrollably, she collapsed by the bed, letting her head rest on her daughter’s chest, drenching the white nightgown in her tears.
The weeping and wailing of the loved ones and probably hired mourners downstairs announced the news to the rest of the community. She covered her ears to muffle the piercing sound of the flute players that faithfully accompanied families when death visited them.
Suddenly, the howling and crying stopped. She picked herself up and headed down the stairs, dragging her feet in a way that reminded her of her old grandmother. Stubborn unbelief met a comatose hope as she discovered the reason.
Jesus stood in the middle of the living room. Time stood still. People talked and moved as in slow motion. He turned around and looked at her and instantly the excruciating pain of death was overtaken by a refreshing balm of inexplicable peace. Her heart leapt inside her body, butterflies danced in her stomach and her legs regained their strength. The threat of shame, judgment and rejection lost its grip over her chest, allowing her to take a deep breath for the first time in days.
He said to them, “Why all this commotion and weeping? Everybody out! The girl isn’t dead, she’s only sleeping!” They jeered at Him, since they knew she was dead.
His face remained calm and He smiled tenderly, even though people laughed and pointed mocking fingers at Him.
After ordering everybody out, Jesus directed her, Jairus and the three men who came with Him, upstairs. She opened the door and directed Him towards the bed where her daughter’s body lay, limp and cold. The warmth of His presence annihilated the hair-raising chill of death in the air.
He sat on the side of the bed and taking her by the hand He said to her, “Talita, kumi! Little girl, I say to you, get up!”
Immediately, the girl opened her eyes and smiled at Him, just like she did when her daddy got home. A rosy color invaded her paper white cheeks as she sat up and looked around the room.
The room erupted in cheerful praise. The woman’s mouth opened, her eyes widened and she gripped her husband’s hand.
They laughed and cried and embraced their daughter in a tight family hug.
Jesus said, “Get her something to eat and drink”.
There was plenty of food in the house, except now, instead of serving as comfort for mourners it would serve as a feast of celebration. They would celebrate the miracle performed by Jesus, the Messiah, the Savior. They would celebrate the victory of life over death, hope over despair, faith over fear. Yes, they might lose their wealth, reputation and even their friends, but it didn’t matter, because they found Jesus. Before He left, He commanded them not to say anything about the miracle, but she knew that it would be a difficult secret to keep.
